She drew herself together again,
quickly, suddenly catching her breath. "I can't think," she said, "what
questions there can be."

"There is this," he said: "I had almost forgotten her existence--till I
saw you: but now that is not possible. Look here, I may have to try and
get a divorce--you know what that means--out there, not here: and she
must have warning. Will you let her know?"

The girl started a little, the word frightened her. "Oh, sir," she cried,
"you wouldn't punish her, you wouldn't put her in prison or that? Oh,
don't, sir. She would die--and you know she's not fit to die."

"You mistake," said Dick; "there is no question of punishment, only to
be free of each other--as if indeed, as you say, she were dead to me."

"And so she is," cried Lizzie earnestly. "She never will have her
name named to you, that's what she says, never if she should be ever
so---- She's given you your freedom as she's taken hers, and never,
never shall you hear word of her more: that is what she says."

"Yet she is in England, for all she says."

"Did she ever pass you her word not to come to England? But I don't say
as she's in England now. Oh, it was an ill wind, sir," cried Lizzie with
vehemence, "that brought you here!"

"It may be so," Dick said, with a gravity that went beyond any conscious
intention of regret he had. "There is but one thing now, and that is
that I must be free. Let her know that I must take proceedings for
divorce. I have no way of reaching her but through you."

"Sir, there is somebody coming," said Lizzie; "pass on as if you had been
asking me the way. I'll let her know. I'll never open my lips to you
more nor to any one, about her, but I'll do what you say. That's the
way to the house," she added, turning, pointing out the path that led
away from the side of the pond towards the Warren. He followed the
indication without another word, and in a minute stood in the peaceful
shadow of the deserted house. It came upon him chill, but wholesome,
life reviving after the agitation of that brief encounter. Divorce--it
was a bad word to breathe in such an honest place--a bad blasphemous
word, worse than an oath. He had not meant to say it, nor thought of
it before this meeting: but now he seemed to be pledged to this step
involuntarily, unwillingly; was it by some good angel, something that
was working in Chatty's interests and for her sweet sake?

CHAPTER XLI.

Dick went back to town on the Mon