ways wanted to see him. I was sick and tired of
life at Pulwick, and that was why I went on board his ship. I went
deliberately because I could not bear the dulness of it all. He
mistook me for Madeleine in the dark--he kissed me. Afterwards I told
him that I loved him. I begged him to take me away with him, for ever.
I love him still, I would go with him still--it is as well that you
should know. Nothing can alter it now. But he did not want me. He
loves Madeleine."

The words fell from her lips with a steady, cruel, deliberateness. She
kept her eyes upon him as she spoke, unpityingly, uncaring what
anguish she inflicted; nay, it seemed from some strange perversity,
glad to make him suffer.

But hard upon a man as it must be to hear such a confession from his
wife's lips, doubly hard to such a one as Adrian, whose heart bled for
her pain as well as for his own, he held himself without departing for
a second from his wonted quiet dignity. Only in his earnest gaze upon
her there was perhaps, if possible, an added tenderness.

But she, to see him so unmoved, was moved herself to a sudden scorn.

What manner of man was this, that not love, nor jealousy, nor anger
had power to stir?

"And now what will you do with me?" she asked him again, with superb
contempt on eye and lip. "For a guilty wife I am to you, as far as the
will could make me, and I have no claim upon you any more."

"No claim upon me!" he repeated, with a wonder of grief in his voice.
"Ah, Molly, hush child! You are my wife. The child of the woman I
loved--the woman I love for her own sake. You can no more put yourself
out of my life now than you can out of my heart; had you been as
guilty in deed as you may have been in purpose my words would be the
same. Your husband's home is your home, my only wish to cherish and
shelter you. You cannot escape my care, poor child, and some day you
may be glad of it. My protection, my countenance you will always have.
God! who am I that I should judge you? Is there any sin of human
frailty that a human being dare condemn? Guilty? What is your guilt
compared to mine for bringing you to this, allying my melancholy age
with your bright youth?"

He fell into the chair opposite to her and covered his face with his
hands. As, for a minute's space, his self-control wavered, she watched
him, wearily. Her heat of temper had fallen from her very quickly; she
broke into a moan.

"Oh, what does it matter? What does anything