“It was your fault that I admired you,” returned her husband, with a look of pride in her, “and why not your fault that he admired you? But, I jealous on that account? Why, I must go distracted for life, if I turned jealous of everyone who used to find my wife beautiful and winning!”

“I am half angry with you, John dear,” said Bella, laughing a little, “and half pleased with you; because you are such a stupid old fellow, and yet you say nice things, as if you meant them. Don’t be mysterious, sir. What harm do you know of Mr. Lightwood?”

“None, my love.”

“What has he ever done to you, John?”