thick skin to the quick; his nature was capable of smarting when thus
assailed. For he had by no means lost his early reverence for Adela;
nay, in a sense it had increased. His primitive ideas on woman had
undergone a change since his marriage. Previously he had considered a
wife in the light of property; intellectual or moral independence he
could not attribute to her. But he had learnt that Adela was by no means
his chattel. He still knew diffidence when he was inclined to throw a
joke at her, and could not take her hand without involuntary respect--a
sensation which occasionally irritated him. A dim inkling of what
was meant by woman's strength and purity had crept into his mind; he
knew--in his heart he knew--that he was unworthy to touch her garment.
And, to face the whole truth, he all but loved her; that was the meaning
of his mingled sentiments with regard to her. A danger of losing her in
the material sense would have taught him that better than he as yet knew
it; the fear of losing her respect was not attributable solely to his
restless egoism. He had wedded her in quite another frame of mind than
that in which he now found himself when he thought of her. He cared
much for the high opinion of people in general; Adela was all but
indispensable to him. When he said, 'My wife,' he must have been
half-conscious that the word bore a significance different from that he
had contemplated. On the lips of those among whom he had grown up the
word is desecrated, or for the most part so; it has contemptible, and
ridiculous, and vile associations, scarcely ever its true meaning.
Formerly he would have laughed at the thought of standing in awe of his
wife; nay, he could not have conceived the possibility of such a thing;
it would have appeared unnatural, incompatible with the facts of wedded
life. Yet he sat here and almost dreaded to enter her presence.

A man of more culture might have thought: A woman cannot in her heart
be revolted because another has been cast off for her. Mutimer could not
reason so far. It would have been reasoning inapplicable to Adela, but
from a certain point of view it might have served as a resource. Richard
could only accept his instincts.

But it was useless to postpone the interview; come of it what would, he
must have it over and done with. He could not decide how to speak
until he knew what the contents of Kate's letter were. He was nervously
anxious to know.

Adela sat in her boudoir,