“I replied, with the greatest indifference:
“‘Only the Duke of Launceston.’
“To my intense surprise, Sir Alfred put on the darkest of frowns.
“‘Has he been here again? I wish he would not come so often.’
“Looking up suddenly, I caught a most significant smile on the servant’s face.
“‘You should tell him so,’ I replied, honestly believing that Sir Alfred was thinking only of the high play that went on when the duke was present. After that I can recall a hundred different times when, before the servants, he expressed displeasure at the duke’s visits and wished they would cease. I little dreamed to what it all tended. Among all my husband’s friends he had one confidant, Captain Pierrepont, a man I detested from the very first moment I ever saw him, a man devoid of honor, truth and principle. One evening I chanced to overhear a conversation between Sir Alfred and this worthy. It was an evening in June, and I was on the balcony, enjoying the fragrance of the mignonette, when I heard their voices in the drawing-room. I was about to stay where I was when my attention was attracted by what they were saying. It was Captain Pierrepont who began:
“‘Where is your lady wife, Sir Alfred?’
“‘My lady wife is out, I should imagine; I cannot find her.’
“‘I am glad of that; it is high time something or other was settled. I am getting anxious over these bills.’
“‘So am I, my worthy friend. In the language of the bard, “I am up a tree;” I have been hoping for some lucky coup, but fortune has been against me of late.’