od! how much women have to answer for in
the miseries of this world!"

Errington said nothing. Pity and respect for the man before him held him
silent. Here was one of the martyrs of modern social life--a man who
evidently knew himself to be dishonored by his wife,--and who yet, for
the sake of his son, submitted to be daily broken on the wheel of
private torture rather than let the boy grow up to despise and slight
his mother. Whether he were judged as wise or weak in his behavior there
was surely something noble about him--something unselfish and heroic
that deserved recognition. Presently Lord Winsleigh continued in calmer
tones--

"I've been talking too much about myself, Errington, I fear--forgive it!
Sometimes I've thought you misunderstood me--"

"I never shall again!" declared Philip earnestly.

Lord Winsleigh met his look of sympathy with one of gratitude.

"Thanks!" he said briefly,--and with this they shook hands again
heartily, and parted. Lord Winsleigh saw his visitor to the door--and
then at once returned to his wife's apartments. She was still absent
from the boudoir--he therefore entered her dressing-room without
ceremony.

There he found her,--alone, kneeling on the floor, her head buried in an
arm-chair,--and her whole frame shaken with convulsive sobs. He looked
down upon her with a strange wistful pain in his eyes,--pain mingled
with compassion.

"Clara!" he said gently. She started and sprang up--confronting him with
flushed cheeks and wet eyes.

"_You_ here?" she exclaimed angrily. "I wonder you dare to--" she broke
off, confused by his keen, direct glance.

"It _is_ a matter for wonder," he said quietly. "It's the strangest
thing in the world that I--your husband--should venture to intrude
myself into your presence! Nothing could be more out of the common. But
I have something to say to you--something which must be said sooner or
later--and I may as well speak now."

He paused,--she was silent, looking at him in a sort of sudden fear.

"Sit down," he continued in the same even tones. "You must have a little
patience with me--I'll endeavor to be as brief as possible."

Mechanically she obeyed him and sank into a low fauteuil. She began
playing with the trinkets on her silver chatelaine, and endeavored to
feign the most absolute unconcern, but her heart beat quickly--she could
not imagine what was coming next--her husband's manner and tone were
quite new to her.

"You accused me ju