of going to the woods--but he did. And I must say, frankly, I never
believed him capable of this."

"You and he have had a quarrel--am I not right?"

She shrugged her shoulders in reply.

"Perhaps," she confessed--"but he has never understood me--he is
incapable of understanding any woman."

"Quite true," he replied lightly, in his best worldly voice; "quite
true. Few men, my dear child, ever understand the women they marry.
You might have been free to-day--free, and happier, had you--"

He sprang to his feet, bending over her--clasping her hands clenched
in her lap. Slowly he sought her lips.

"Don't," she breathed--"don't--I beg of you. You must not--you _shall_
not! You know we have discussed all that before."

"Forgive me," said he, straightening and regaining his seat. The ice
had been thinner than he supposed, and he was too much of an expert
to risk breaking through. "But why are you so cold to me?" he asked
gloomily, with a sullen glance; "you, whose whole nature is the
reverse? Do you know you are gloriously beautiful--you, whom I
have always regarded as a woman of the world, seem to have suddenly
developed the conscience of a schoolgirl."

"You said you would help me," she replied, ignoring his outburst, her
eyes averted as if fearing to meet his gaze.