ma!" said Lady Winsleigh, taking it with an affectation of
tenderness. "What will you do?"

Thelma did not answer; she sat mute and rigid.

"You are thinking unkindly of me just now," continued Clara softly; "but
I felt it was my duty to tell you the worst at once. It's no good living
in a delusion! I'm very, very sorry for you, Thelma!"

Thelma remained perfectly silent. Lady Winsleigh moved towards the door,
and as she opened it looked back at her. The girl might have been a
lifeless figure for any movement that could be perceived about her. Her
face was white as marble--her eyes were fixed on the sparkling fire--her
very hands looked stiff and pallid as wax, as they lay clasped in her
lap--the letter--the cruel letter,--had fallen at her feet. She seemed
as one in a trance of misery--and so Lady Winsleigh left her.

CHAPTER XXVI.

"O my lord, O Love,
I have laid my life at thy feet;
Have thy will thereof
For what shall please thee is sweet!"
SWINBURNE.

She roused herself at last. Unclasping her hands, she pushed back her
hair from her brows and sighed heavily. Shivering as with intense cold,
she rose from the chair she had so long occupied, and stood upright,
mechanically gathering around her the long fur mantle that she had not
as yet taken off. Catching sight of the letter where it lay, a gleaming
speck of white on the rich dark hues of the carpet, she picked it up and
read it through again calmly and comprehensively,--then folded it up
carefully as though it were something of inestimable value. Her thoughts
were a little confused,--she could only realize clearly two distinct
things,--first, that Philip was unhappy,--secondly, that she was in the
way of his happiness. She did not pause to consider how this change in
him had been effected,--moreover, she never imagined that the letter he
had written could refer to any one but himself. Hers was a nature that
accepted facts as they appeared--she never sought for ulterior motives
or disguised meanings. True, she could not understand her husband's
admiration for Violet Vere, "But then"--she thought--"many other men
admire her too. And so it is certain there must be something about her
that wins love,--something I cannot see!"

And presently she put aside all other considerations, and only pondered
on one thing,--how should she remove herself from the path of her
husband's pleasur