eye betrayed more emotion than he cared to make apparent.

"I neither tempt nor persuade. We have done each other great injury;
this lady has been the cause, and in some sort the victim. After
reading that book, it is impossible for this household to contain us
all. I will not submit to be turned out a beggar, nor to live an hour
longer on your munificence. The plan I offer is the only one that can be
peaceably acted upon."

"And the lady, Mrs. Harrington, does she know this?"

"Not a syllable. I have no fancy for hysterics, protestations, or
fainting fits. The _role_ of an injured husband, is not to my taste; and
I should prefer that she base her complaints on my indifference,
abandonment, infidelity, or whatever faults of that nature she pleases.
I will take a trip to Paris, if that promises to facilitate matters."

"And, if I refuse?"

"Then the lady shall be quietly waited upon by my lawyer, and invited to
leave my house. This book will not only be placed in evidence against
her, but every line it contains shall be duplicated by thousands, and
spread far and wide."

"Give me time--give me air. I cannot think or breathe!" answered James,
struggling with himself amid a whirl of contending feelings, like a
drowning man engulphed by a flood. "A few minutes, and I will speak
again."

He arose, and walked unsteadily towards the library window, threw it
open, and stepped out upon the balcony. There he strove to look the
difficulty before him in the face--to meet the terrible temptation with
courage. He dared not turn his thoughts, even for a moment, toward the
possibility of the proposed divorce, but crushed it back resolutely, as
if it had been a serpent attempting to charm his soul away. If a glow of
delight had touched his heart with the first certainty of Mabel's love,
it was gone now, quenched by a consciousness of the terrible dangers
that were closing around her.

It was a bitter cold morning; all around him the earth lay sheeted with
deep snow. The river was frozen over from shore to shore. Not a green
thing was near, save the spruces and pines upon the shrouded lawn, and
they drooped and moaned under a burden of cold whiteness, which the wind
might disturb but fail to sweep away. The balcony was littered with
slender icicles which had fallen from the gables above, and flashed out
like shattered jewels from his impetuous footsteps as he trod them down,
walking to and fro in the wild excitement that seized