smoking a cigarette. Isn't that the sort of
3IO RED TOWERS
thing you would like ? Instead of that, you
are the pink of propriety in a carriage and
pair. Isn't it very slow ?'
' Anything for a quiet life,' said Celia,
smiling over her work.
' So it seems ; but do you really think so V
' I am older, wiser, lazier than when
you knew me, Vincent,' she said. ^ There
are lots of people like me ; they want to
do things when they can't, and they don't
do them when they can. Besides, some
men are old-fashioned enough to hate all
that sort of thing for their wives, and my hus-
band is one of them. So now you know.'
' Is it that you won't, or can't ?'
' I could, but I don't care to attempt it.
I should lose more than I should gain. He
and his family are satisfied with me as I
' And you like to be admired for a sort
'MOIS DE MARIE' 311
of character you don't possess. What an
actress you are !'
' And what a cousin you are !' said CeHa,
with perfect coolness and good-humour.
' Suppose we talk about something more
* Certainly. Have you yet arranged a
marriage for Miss Antoinette V
'■ Does that interest you ? No, indeed,
we have not thought about it. Antoinette
will not have much foi-tune, poor child 1 I
am afraid it will be a difficulty.'
' Why ? she is the only child.'
' Yes,' said Celia. ' But her father
had very little indeed of his own. Just
this house, and not much land with it.
Her mother's fortune was small, too ; she
was one of a large family ; it was a foolish
marriage. And my money, you know —
well, you must understand that I am quite
312 RED TOWERS
independent. We married with separation
de hiens. Everything I have is entirely
my own ; and as a good deal of my money
has been spent on restoring this house, it
is settled on me for my life. Anyhow, a
certain part of my husband's property comes
to me by law.'
' On the whole, a very comfortable
arrangement for you,' said Vincent, ^ espe-
cially as you are sure to survive him.'
Celia looked a little grave. She stooped
down to examine the shades in her work,
then said, without looking up :
* He is a good many years older than I
am ; but I hope I shall not survive him.
He deserves to live a hundred years.'
' You are much more likely to live a
hundred years,' said Vincent. ' One does
not quite see why people like you should
ever die. I always thought that such a
MOIS DE MARIE'
remarkable thing about you — that you
should never have had even a finofer-ache.
You are not ofoing' to bed V
She was putting aside her silks, and
rolling up her work with quiet, deliberate
* Yes,' she said. ' I am tired, and so are
you, no doubt.'
She was again the stately young Marquise
who had met him at the station ; not the
girl who long ago, in the old inn garden by
the river, had objected to being told that
she knew nothing of pain. She gave him
her hand with an air which was not exactly
friendliness ; it seemed meant to remind
him, very gently, that he had his limits, and
might as well keep to them ; the personal
talk he was so fond of mio^ht o^o too far.
They were not quite on the old River Gate
terms, kind and hospitable as she might be.
314 RED TOWERS
He wished her good-night half sulkily.
He afterwards reflected that if she chose to
give herself airs, he would go away to-
morrow ; but then curiosity said he must
see her husband, this man for whom, with
all her coldness, she was certainly a little
END OF VOL. II.
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Serial Stories by the following Writers hare appeared in the pages of
this Magazine :
The Seven Sons of Mammon, by George Augustus Sala.— For Better, for Worse,
edited by Edmund Yates.— Aurora Floyd, by INIiss Braddon.— The Adventures of Cap-
tain Dangerous, by George Augustus Sala.— The Trials of the Tredgolds. -John
Marchmont's Legacy, by Miss P5raddon.- Broken to Harness, by Edmund Yates.—
Paid in Full, by H. J. Byron.— The Doctors Wife, by Miss Braddon.— David
Chantrey, by W. G. Wills. - Sir Jasper's Tenant, by Miss Braddon.— Land at Last,
by Edmund Yates.— Archie Lovell, by Mrs. Annie Edwardes.— Lady Adelaides Oath,
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Yeoman, by Mrs. Annie Edwardes.— Kitty, by M. E. Betham-Edwards.— Vera.— Red
as a Rose is She, by Rhoda Broughton.— Susan Fielding, by Mrs. Annie Edwardes.—
A Race for a Wife, by Hawley Smart.— The Bird of Passage, by J. Sheridan Le
Fanu. — His Brother's Keeper, by Albany de Fonblanque. — The Landlord of
the Sun, by W. Gilbert. — The Poison of Asps, by Florence Marryat. — Good-
hye, Sweetheart! by Rhoda Broughton. — Ought we to Visit Her? by ^Nlrs.
Annie Edwardes. — The Illustrious Dr. Matheus, by MM. Erckmann-Chatrian.
— The Wooing ot, by 'Mrs. Alexander.' — The Deceased Wife's Sister, by
'Sidney Mostyn.' - The New Magdalen, by Wilkie Collins. - Uncle John, by
W. Whyte-Melville. — A Vagabond Heroine, by Mrs. Annie Edwardes. — My
Beautiful Neighbour, by W. Clark Russell.— Leah : a Woman of Fashion, by Mrs.
Annie Edwardes.— Patricia Kemball, by Mrs. Lynn Linton.— Philip Leigh.— The
Frozen Deep, by \Vilkie Collins.— Bitter Fruit, by A. W. Dubourg.— Lilith, by W.
H. Pollock.— Ralph Wilton's Weird, by 'Mrs. Alexander. —The Dream Woman, by
Wilkie Collins. — Basil's Faith, by A. W. Dubourg. —The American Senator, by
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A. W. Dubourg.— The Two Destinies, by Wilkie Collins.— An Old Man's Darling, by
A. W. Dubourg.— Cherry Ripe ! by Helen Mathers.— A Blue Stocking, by Mrs. Annie
Edwardes.— The Ordeal of Fay, by Mrs. Buxton.— The ' First Violin,' by Jessie Fother-
gill. -Two Handsome People, Two Jealous People, and a Ring, by Miss I ablache. —
Jet, her Face or her Fortune, by INIrs. Annie PIdwardes.— Auld Robin Gray, by Mrs.
Godfrey.— Probation, by Jessie Fothergill — Ebenezer, by C. G. Leland.— Vivian the
Beauty, by Mrs. Annie Edwardes.— Celia, by Mrs. Godfrey.— Adam and Eve, by Mrs.
Parr.— The Portrait of a Painter, by Himself, by Lady Pollock.— A Little Bohemian,
by Mrs. Godfrey.— The Rebel of the Family, by Mrs. Lynn Linton.— Kith and Kin,
by Jessie Fothergill.— The Freres, by 'Mrs. Alexander. —Marie Dumont, by Lady
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Margaret Majendie.— A Perilous Secret, by Charles Reade.— Zero : a Story of Monte
Carlo, by Mrs. Campbell Praed.— Mrs. Forrester's Secret, by Mrs. Godfrey.— Peril,
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Isles, by Jessie Fothergill.— The Rogue, by W. E. Norris.
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