She called loudly. Benoite heard, and came in.
"Mr. Verner says this is not a nice book. You may take it away."
Mademoiselle Benoite advanced with a red face, and took the book.
"Have you any more such books?" inquired Lionel, looking at her.
"No, sir, I not got one other," hardily replied she.
"Have the goodness to put this one away. Had your mistress been aware of the nature of the book, she had not suffered you to produce it."
Mademoiselle went away, her skirts jerking. Lionel bent down to his wife.
"You know that it pains me to find fault, Sibylla," he fondly whispered. "I have ever your welfare and happiness at heart. More anxiously, I think, than you have mine."