"Indeed!" I answered lightly. "What did the preparation consist of?"
"I wrote to him," said Blanche. "I have written to him more than once, telling him I am about to get a separation. In answer, my lord commands me down to Marshdale"—very resentfully—"and says you are to take me down."
"All quite right, Blanche; quite true, so far. But——"
"But I don't know that I shall go. I think I shall not go."
"A wife should obey her husband's commands."
"I do not intend to be his wife any longer. And you cannot wish me to be, Charles; you ought not to wish it. Lord Level's conduct is simply shameful. What right has he to stay at Marshdale—amusing himself down there?"
"I fancy he cannot help staying there at present. Has he told you he is ill?"
She glanced quickly round at me.
"Has he told you that he is so?"
"Yes, Blanche; he has. He is too ill to travel."