"He might forgive you," I said.

"No, he would not be angry, he would not reproach me, but he would never
look upon my face again."

"Would it not be better for you to tell him yourself?" I suggested.

"Oh, no!" she cried, with a shudder. "No, I shall never tell him."

"I do not say that I shall," I said. "Give me a few days--only a few
days--and I will decide in my mind all about it."

Then we saw Lance in the distance.

"There is my husband," she said. "Do I look very ill, Mr. Ford?"

"You do, indeed; you look ghastly," I said.

"I will go and meet him," she said.

The exercise and the fresh air brought some little color to her face
before they met. Still he cried out that I had not taken care of her;
that she was overtired.

"That is it," she replied. "I have been over-tired all day: I think my
head aches; I have had a strange sensation of dizziness in it, I am
tired--oh, Lance, I am so tired!"

"I shall not leave you again," said Lance to her, and I fancied he was
not quite pleased with me, and thought I had neglected her. We all three