part of Nature as the polity of
bees in a hive?

'Not a word for fifteen years, and then an explosion like that!' she
murmured, incessantly recurring to the core of her grievance. 'I did
wrong to marry him, I know. But I _did_ marry him--I _did_ marry him! We
are husband and wife. And he goes off and sleeps at a hotel! Carlotta, I
wish I had never been born! What will people say? I shall never be able
to look anyone in the face again.'

'He will come back,' I said again.

'Do you think so?'

This time she caught at the straw.

'Yes,' I said. 'And you will settle down gradually; and everything will
be forgotten.'

I said that because it was the one thing I could say. I repeat that I had
ceased to think of myself. I had become a spectator.

'It can never be the same between us again,' Mary breathed sadly.

At that moment Emmeline Palmer plunged, rather than came, into my
bedroom.

'Oh, Miss Peel--' she began, and then stopped, seeing Mrs. Ispenlove by
the fireplace, though she knew that Mrs. Ispenlove was with me.

'Anything wrong?' I asked, affecting a complete calm.

It was evident that the good creature had lost her head, as she sometimes
did, when I gave her too much to copy, or when the unusual occurred in no
matter what form. The excellent Emmeline was one of my mistakes.

'Mr. Ispenlove is here,' she whispered.

None of us spoke for a few seconds. Mary Ispenlove stared at me, but
whether in terror or astonishment, I could not guess. This was one of the
most dramatic moments of my life.

'Tell Mr. Ispenlove that I can see nobody,' I said, glancing at the wall.

She turned to go.

'And, Emmeline,' I stopped her. 'Do not tell him anything else.'

Surely the fact that Frank had called to see me before nine o'clock in
the morning, surely my uneasy demeanour, must at length arouse suspicion
even in the simple, trusting mind of his wife!

'How does he know that I am here?' Mary asked, lowering her voice, when
Emmeline had shut the door; 'I said nothing to the servants.'

I was saved. Her own swift explanation of his coming was, of course, the
most natural in the world. I seized on it.

'Never mind how,' I answered. 'Perhaps he was watching outside your
house, and followed you. The important thing is that he has come. It
proves,' I went on, inventing rapidly, 'that he has changed his mind and
recognises his mistake. Had you not better go back home as quickly as
you can? It would have been rather aw