t Mary": what to say to them?

"I do not know what you will think of me. I do not know, to-night,
what to think of myself. I have left Howard. It is not because he
was cruel to me, or untrue. He does not love me, nor I him. I
cannot expect you, who have known the happiness of marriage, to
realize the tortures of it without love. My pain in telling you
this now is all the greater because I realize your belief as to the
sacredness of the tie--and it is not your fault that you did not
instil that belief into me. I have had to live and to think and to
suffer for myself. I do not attempt to account for my action, and I
hesitate to lay the blame upon the modern conditions and atmosphere
in which I lived; for I feel that, above all things, I must be
honest with myself.

"My marriage with Howard was a frightful mistake, and I have grown
slowly to realize it, until life with him became insupportable.
Since he does not love me, since his one interest is his business,
my departure makes no great difference to him.

"Dear Aunt Mary and Uncle Tom, I realize that I owe you much
--everything that I am. I do not expect you to understand or to
condone what I have done. I only beg that you will continue to
--love your niece,

"HONORA."

She tried to review this letter. Incoherent though it were and
incomplete, in her present state of mind she was able to add but a few
words as a postscript. "I will write you my plans in a day or two, when I
see my way more clearly. I would fly to you--but I cannot. I am going to
get a divorce."

She sat for a time picturing the scene in the sitting-room when they
should read it, and a longing which was almost irresistible seized her to
go back to that shelter. One force alone held her in misery where she
was,--her love for Chiltern; it drew her on to suffer the horrors of
exile and publicity. When she suffered most, his image rose before her,
and she kissed the ring on her hand. Where was he now, on this rainy
night? On the seas?

At the thought she heard again the fog-horns and the sirens.

Her sleep was fitful. Many times she went over again her talk with
Howard, and she surprised herself by wondering what he had thought and
felt since her departure. And ever and anon she was startled out of
chimerical dreams by the clamour of bells-the trolley cars on their
ceaseless round passing below. At last came the slumb