ion I had heard of her from Lady Helen and my mother, and what I had observed myself, that I dreaded being exposed to her home truths and her indiscreet communications.
It was not long before we found ourselves completely in the vortex of a London life. And as, for the most part, my husband's engagements and mine were the same, I lost the gloomy forebodings with which I left home, and even lost my fears of Mrs. Pendarves.
One day Pendarves told me he was going to dine with an old friend of his, Maurice Witred; but, as I was not going out, he hoped to be back to drink tea with me; but I expected him in vain, and he did not return till bed-time.
He told me he was sorry to have disappointed me; but his friend had prevailed on him to go to the play. This excuse was so sufficient, and his wish to accompany Mr. Witred so natural, that I should have had no misgiving whatever had I not observed a certain degree of constraint in his manner, and a consciousness as if he had not told me all. However