the library and went in, fully intending to tell
Percy everything.

She found him sitting by the fire, with a book. He had fallen asleep.
She watched him for some moments, and she thought he looked pale and a
little worried. ... How wilful, how foolish it had been of her to go to
the party without him! What did it matter? How trivial to insist on her
own way! How ungrateful! For lately Percy had been devoted. And how
lucky she was that he should care for her so much, after all these
years.

As Bertha watched, she felt that strange suffering which is always the
other side of intense love--the reverse of the medal of the ecstasy of
passion--and she thought she would tell him nothing about it. Why should
he be hurt, annoyed, and humiliated? It would spoil all the pleasure of
her coming back so early--the unexpected delightful time they might
have. ... In this Bertha committed an error of judgment, for she forgot
that he would probably hear of the scene some time or other, and would
attach more importance to it than if she told him now.

"Percy," she whispered.

He woke up.

"You already! Why, it's only twelve o'clock! Oh, dear, how good of you
to come so early."

"I didn't enjoy myself a bit," she murmured. "I'll never go out without
you again. Do forgive me for going!"

"How is it you didn't enjoy it?"

"Because you hadn't seen me in my new dress. Do I look like a canary?"

"No," he said. "Let me look at you. No, you're not a canary--you're a
Bird of Paradise."

CHAPTER XXIII

NIGEL'S LETTER

Next morning, as Bertha expected, Madeline came round to see her early.
She brought with her a note. She said that Nigel had implored her to
give it to her friend from him. He had put Madeline in the carriage, and
had seemed greatly distressed. He told the girl that his wife had been
ill lately and was not quite herself, and he feared she had offended
Bertha.

"She certainly behaved like a lunatic," Bertha said, as she took the
letter.

"Did you tell Percy?"

"As a matter of fact, no."

"Didn't he wonder at your coming home so early?"

"I'm afraid I pretended I rushed back to please him. Was it wrong of me?
I'm afraid it was."

"I believe in frankness with people you can trust. And remember, quite a
little while ago, Bertha, you were worried and depressed because you
thought Percy was becoming a little casual and like an ordinary husband,
and now, you naughty child, that he's been so _empresse_ and