"

"Love you! Yes I love you. I do not suppose that love can be made
to go at once, as I find that esteem may do, and respect, and
veneration."

"Oh, George, those are hard words!"

"Is it not so? This morning you were to me of all God's creatures the
brightest and the best. When I entered your room just now it was so
that I regarded you. Can you now be the brightest and the best? Has
not all that romance been changed at a moment's notice? But, alas!
love does not go after the same fashion." Then he turned shortly
round and left the room.

She remained confounded and awe-stricken. There had been that about
him which seemed to declare a settled purpose--as though he had
intended to leave her for ever. She sat perfectly still, thinking
of it, thinking of the injustice of the sentence that had been
pronounced upon her. Though she had deserved much, she had not
deserved this. Though she had expected punishment, she had not
expected punishment so severe. In about twenty minutes her maid came
up to her, and with a grave face asked whether she would wish that
breakfast should be sent to her in her own room. Mr. Western had sent
to ask the question. "Yes," said she,--"if he pleases." There could
be no good in attempting to conceal from the servants a misery so
deep and so lasting as this.

CHAPTER XII.

MR. WESTERN'S DECISION.

What should she do with herself? Her breakfast was brought to her. At
noon she was told that Mr. Western had gone out for the day and would
not return till the evening. She was asked whether she would have
her pony carriage, and, on refusing it, was persuaded by her maid
to walk in the grounds. "I think I will go out," she said, and went
and walked for an hour. Her maid had been peculiarly her own and had
come to her from Exeter; but she would not talk to her maid about
her quarrel with her husband, though she was sure that the girl knew
of the quarrel. Those messages had certainly come direct from her
husband, and could not, she thought, have been sent without some
explanation of the facts. She could see on the faces of all the
household that everyone knew that there was a quarrel. Twenty times
during the day would she have had her husband's name on her tongue
had there been no quarrel. It had been with her as though she had had
a pride in declaring herself to be his wife. But now she was silent
respecting him altogether. She could not bring herself to ask the
gardener whether Mr. Wes