ed by all who knew her history.

Ah, if she could only have exchanged with her, who had been loved for
her own sake! And even if she could forgive him for not having loved
her, the lie, the hypocrisy she could never forgive--never, never. Her
faith in him was gone.

Half unconsciously she had wandered out into the corridor, and felt a
little refreshed by the cooler air. She ran quickly down the steps into
the garden. From the kitchen came the sounds of talking and laughing;
the gardener was talking nonsense to the maids--the mistress' eye was
wanting.

There was no light in the garden-hall, but Aunt Rosa's windows were
unusually brilliant and a youthful shadow was marked out on the white
curtain. That must be the expected niece.

Gertrude walked on in the gravel-walks; the nightingales were singing
and there were sounds of singing in the steward's room, a deep
sympathetic tenor and a sorrowful melody.

On and on she went in the fragrant garden. Then she cried out suddenly,

"Frank!"

She had come upon him suddenly at a turning of the path.

"Gertrude!" returned he, trying to take her hand.

"Don't touch me!" she cried. "I was not looking for you, but as we have
met, I will ask you for something."

In order to support herself she clutched the branches of a lilac-bush
with her little hand.

"With all my heart, Gertrude," he replied gently. "Forgive my violence,
anger catches me unawares sometimes. I promise you it shall not happen
again."

He stopped, waiting to hear her request. For a while they stood there
in silence, then she spoke slowly, almost unintelligibly in her great
agitation. "Give me my freedom again--it is impossible any longer to--"

"I do not understand you," he replied, coldly, "what do you mean?"

"I will leave you everything, everything--only give me my freedom! We
cannot live together any longer, don't you see that?" she cried quite
beside herself.

"Speak lower!" he commanded, stamping angrily with his foot.

"Say yes!" entreated the young wife with a voice nearly choked with
emotion.

"I say no!" was the answer. "Take my arm and come."

"I will _not_! I will not!" she cried, snatching away her hand which he
had taken.

"You are greatly excited this evening, you will come now into the house
with me; tomorrow we will talk further on the subject and in the clear
daylight you can tell me what reasons you have for thinking our living
together impossible."

"Now, at once, if you