.

"No,--I have no pride, Hugh,--it is gone. I have thought of you only.
The fear that I might separate you from your family, from your friends,
and ruin your future has killed my pride. He--Mr. Grainger meant to be
kind. He is always like that--it's his way of saying things. He wishes
to show that he is friendly to you--to me--"

"In spite of my relations," cried Chiltern, stopping in the middle of
the room. "They cease to be my relations from this day. I disown them. I
say it deliberately. So long as I live, not one of them shall come into
this house. All my life they have begged me to settle down, to come up
here and live the life my father did. Very well, now I've done it. And
I wrote to them and told them that I intended to live henceforth like a
gentleman and a decent citizen--more than some of them do. No, I wash
my hands of them. If they were to crawl up here from the gate on their
knees, I'd turn them out."

Although he could not hear her, she continued to plead.

"Hugh, try to think of how--how our marriage must have appeared to them.
Not that I blame you for being angry. We only thought of one thing--our
love--" her voice broke at the word, "and our own happiness. We did not
consider others. It is that which sometimes has made me afraid, that we
believed ourselves above the law. And now that we have--begun so well,
don't spoil it, Hugh! Give them time, let them see by our works that we
are in earnest, that we intend to live useful lives.

"I don't mean to beg them," she cried, at sight of his eyes. "Oh, I
don't mean that. I don't mean to entreat them, or even to communicate
with them. But they are your flesh and blood--you must remember that.
Let us prove that we are--not--like the others," she said, lifting her
head, "and then it cannot matter to us what any one thinks. We shall
have justified our act to ourselves."

But he was striding up and down the room again. It was as she
feared--her plea--had fallen on unheeding ears. A sudden convulsive
leaping of the inner fires sent him to his desk, and he seized some
note-paper from the rack. Honora rose to her feet, and took a step
towards him.

"Hugh--what are you going to do?"

"Do!" he cried, swinging in his chair and facing her, "I'm going to
do what any man with an ounce of self-respect would do under the
circumstances. I'm going to do what I was a fool not to have done three
months ago--what I should have done if it hadn't been for you. If in
thei