praise me. I deserve no praise. I'm going to do
my duty, but I'm not doing it from my heart. I _want to go_, and I told
him so. Did you know I was a bad woman? I didn't. I was rather proud
of myself for being so unflirtatious all these years. It was only
because I had not been tempted. The moment I am tempted, I go to
pieces. If we are judged by our thoughts, I'm a wicked woman. I'd give
everything I possess in life, if I were free to go to him to-night!"

"So would I, so would I,--if it had been Martin," cried Grizel, sobbing.
"Everything that belonged to myself. And it _isn't_ wrong; it isn't
wicked; it's the human nature in us that we can't help. Every
consideration for oneself goes down like ninepins before the one big
thing. They don't count... It's the _other_ people who block the way!"

"One other person in my case. Bernard doesn't count. I am nothing to
him. Why should I ruin my life by staying with a man who doesn't want
me? If it were not for the boy, I'd go to-night. You know what my
married life has been,--would you think I was doing wrong if I left the
pretence to take the reality? It would be a truer marriage, even if it
were not blessed by the Church. Yet people would think we were wicked.
Would you think so too?"

Grizel hesitated.

"Sure I may speak straight out?"

"Of course. Of course. I asked you. I'm hurt so much already that you
can't hurt me any more."

But for several minutes Grizel sat silently, her hands folded on her
knee, her eyes steadily gazing ahead. And as she sat, gradually,
surely, the expression of her face changed. The sparkle died out of her
eyes and left them soft and grave, the curling lips took on a new
tenderness. It was as though she were deliberately banishing the things
of this world, gathering to herself a strength to help in time of need.
The little face grew tense with earnestness; when she spoke her voice
had a deepened note.

"Yes, dear, I think it would be wicked. Not so much for your own sake,
as for all the people around. You know the inwardness of things, but
they don't. They would see only the bare, ugly fact... `Lady Cassandra
has eloped with her husband's friend!' It would be a bad breath
stealing out, infecting wherever it went; searching out weak places, and
weakening them still more,--If you three were alone on a desert island,
I wouldn't hesitate a moment in your place. I should go to my mate, and
there would be no sin o