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THE SMALL END OF THE WEDGE.
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lover. And then of Mary's birth, and of his own theoretical doctrines as to pure blood. And so his troubles multiplied, and he saw no present daylight through them.

Such had been the way in which Lady Arabella had got in the little end of the wedge. And she would have triumphed joyfully had not her incessant doubts and fears as to herself then come in to check her triumph and destroy her joy. She had not yet confessed to any one her secret regret for the friend she had driven away. She hardly yet acknowledged to herself that she did regret him; but she was uneasy, frightened, and in low spirits.

'My dear,' said the squire, sitting down by her bedside, 'I want to tell you what Sir Omicron said as he went away.'

'Well?' said her ladyship, sitting up and looking frightened.

'I don't know how you may take it, Bell; but I think it very good news;' the squire never called his wife Bell, except when he wanted her to be on particularly good terms with him.

'Well?' said she, again. She was not over-anxious to be gracious, and did not reciprocate his familiarity.

'Sir Omicron says that you should have Thorne back again, and upon my honour, I cannot but agree with him. Now, Thorne is a clever man, a very clever man; nobody denies that; and then, you know——'

'Why did not Sir Omicron say that to me?' said her ladyship, sharply, all her disposition in Dr. Thorne's favour becoming wonderfully damped by her husband's advocacy.

'I suppose he thought it better to say it to me,' said the squire, rather curtly.

'He should have spoken to myself,' said Lady Arabella, who, though she did not absolutely doubt her husband's word, gave him credit for having induced and led on Sir Omicron to the uttering of this opinion. 'Doctor Thorne has behaved to me in so gross, so indecent a manner! And then, as I understand, he is absolutely encouraging that girl——'

'Now, Bell, you are quite wrong——'

'Of course I am; I always am quite wrong.'

'Quite wrong in mixing up two things; Doctor Thorne as an acquaintance, and Dr. Thorne as a doctor.'

'It is dreadful to have him here, even standing in the room with me. How can one talk to one's doctor openly and confidentially when one looks upon him as one's worst enemy?' And Lady Arabella, softening, almost melted into tears.

'My dear, you cannot wonder that I should be anxious for you.'

Lady Arabella gave a little snuffle, which might be taken as a