fierce struggle. I, who made it such a point of
honour to live unassailable and pass as irreproachable. I, who am
mortally afraid of the judgment of my fellow creatures--to let loose the
gossips' tongues in this way!

I, who have always maintained that the most wretched _menage_ was better
than none at all, and that an unmarried or divorced woman had no right
to expect more than the semi-existence of a Pariah! I, who thought
divorce between any but a very young couple an unpardonable folly! Here
am I, breaking a union that has been completely harmonious and happy!

You will begin to realize, dear Lillie, that this is a serious matter.

For a whole year I delayed taking the final step; and if I hesitated so
long before realizing my intention, it was partly in order to test my
own feelings, and partly for practical reasons; for I _am_ practical,
and I could not fancy myself leaving my house in the Old Market Place
without knowing where I was going to.

My real reason is so simple and clear that few will be content to accept
it. But I have no other, so what am I to do?

You know, like the rest of the world, that Richard and I have got on as
well as any two people of opposite sex ever can do. There has never been
an angry word between us. But one day the impulse--or whatever you like
to call it--took possession of me that I must live alone--quite alone
and all to myself. Call it an absurd idea, an impossible fancy; call it
hysteria--which perhaps it is--I must get right away from everybody and
everything. It is a blow to Richard, but I hope he will soon get over
it. In the long run his factory will make up for my loss.

We concealed the business very nicely. The garden party we gave last
week was a kind of "farewell performance." Did you suspect anything at
all? We are people of the world and know how to play the game...!

If I am leaving to-night, it is not altogether because I want to be
"over the hills" before the scandal leaks out, but because I have an
indescribable longing for solitude.

Joergen Malthe has planned and built a little villa for me--without
having the least idea I was to be the occupant.

The house is on an island, the name of which I will keep to myself for
the present. The rooms are fourteen feet high, and the dining-room can
hold thirty-six guests. There are only two reception-rooms. But what
more could a divorced woman of my age require? The rest of the
house--the upper storey--consists of s