tell of her triumph, and to sneer in
return. But it mattered nothing. What did matter was whether that
threat should come true. Should she always be left living at Exeter
with her mother? Then she dreamed her dream again, that he had come
back to her, and was sitting by her bedside with his hand in hers
and whispering sweet words to her, while a baby was lying in her
arms--his child. As she thought of the bliss of the fancied moment,
the still possible bliss, her anger seemed to fade away. What would
she not do to bring him back, what would she not say? She had done
amiss in keeping that secret so long, and though the punishment had
been severe, it was not altogether undeserved. It had come to him as
a terrible blow, and he had been unable to suppress his agony. He
should not have treated her so; no, he should not have sent her away.
But she could make excuses now, which but a few weeks since seemed to
her to be impossible. And she understood, she told herself that she
understood, the difference between herself as a woman and him as a
man. He had a right to command, a right to be obeyed, a right to be
master. He had a right to know all the secrets of her heart, and to
be offended when one so important had been kept from him. He had
lifted his hand in great wrath, and the blow he had struck had been
awful. But she would bear it without a word of complaint if only he
would come back to her. As she thought of it, she declared to herself
that she must die if he did not come back. To live as she was living
now would be impossible to her. But if he would come back, how
absolutely would she disregard all that the world might say as to
their short quarrel. It would indeed be known to all the world, but
what could the world do to her if she once again had her husband by
her side? When the blow first fell on her she had thought much of the
ignominy which had befallen her, and which must ever rest with her.
Even though she should be taken back again, people would know that
she had been discarded. But now she told herself that for that she
cared not at all. Then she again dreamed her dream. Her child was
born, and her husband was standing by her with that sweet manly smile
upon his face. She put out her hand as though he would touch it, and
was conscious of an involuntary movement as though she were bending
her face towards him for a kiss.

Surely he would come to her! His sister had gone to him, and would
have told him the absolu