"It is now upwards of three weeks since we slept together," said the baronet, in a tone of reproach.
"Yes—but you know that I cannot pretend too often to pass the entire night by the sick-bed of some poor woman," returned Mrs. Slingsby. "And now, dearest Henry, I have a favour to ask of you."
"Name it," said the baronet, in a low murmur—for his passions were furiously excited by his voluptuous toyings with his mistress.
"You must write me a check for a thousand pounds," replied the lady, winding her arms round his neck, and then literally glueing her lips to his.
"Oh! you are becoming very extravagant, Martha," said the baronet. "But I suppose I must yield——"
"You are a dear, generous fellow," murmured the lady, as she suffered herself to be led to the sofa.
A quarter of an hour afterwards, Mrs. Slingsby rang the bell; and a sleek, comfortable-looking footman answered the summons.
The lady was then sitting, in her usual quiet, placid manner, in a chair near the table; and the baronet was placed at a respectful distance from her.
"Bring up luncheon, James," said Mrs. Slingsby. "Sir Henry, you will take a glass of champagne? I know you are somewhat partial to it. But a decanter of water for me, James."