to my generosity, and on the utter
helplessness of my position when once I was safely entrapped. It was
extremely clever and well thought out. Do you suppose that you would
have dared to act as you did, if there had been means of redress in my
hands, after marriage?"

"If I _did_ rely on your generosity, I admit my mistake," said Henriette
bitterly.

"And now when your deed brings its natural harvest of disaster, you and
Hubert come howling, like frightened children, to have the mischief set
straight again, the consequences of your treachery averted, by _me_, of
all people on this earth!"

"You are his wife, the mother of his children."

"In heaven's name, Henriette, why do you always run into my very jaws?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Why do you catalogue my injuries when your point is to deny them?"

Henriette rose with a vivid flush.

"Hadria, Hubert is one of the best men in England. I----"

"When have I disputed that?"

Hadria advanced towards Miss Temperley, and stood looking her full in
the face.

"I believe that Hubert has acted conscientiously, according to his
standard. But I detest his standard. He did not think it wrong or
treacherous to behave as he did towards me. But it is _that very fact_
that I so bitterly resent. I could have forgiven him a sin against
myself alone, which he acknowledged to be a sin. But this is a sin
against my entire sex, which he does _not_ acknowledge to be a sin. It
is the insolence that is implied in supposing it allowable for a man to
trick a woman in that way, without the smallest damage to his
self-respect, that sticks so in my throat. What does it imply as regards
his attitude towards all women? Ah! it is _that_ which makes me feel so
rancorous. And I resent Hubert's calm assumption that he had a right to
judge what was best for me, and even to force me, by fraud, into
following his view, leaving me afterwards to adjust myself with
circumstance as best I might: to make my bitter choice between
unconditional surrender, and the infliction of pain and distress, on
him, on my parents, on everybody. Ah, you calculated cunningly,
Henriette! I _am_ a coward about giving pain, little as you may now be
disposed to credit it. You have tight hold of the end of my chain."

Hadria was pacing restlessly up and down the room. Little Martha ran out
with her doll, and offered it, as if with a view to chase away the
perturbed look from Hadria's face. The latter stooped mec