read it." She sat and clasped and unclasped her hands in utter misery.
"Oh, the shame of it, the bitter shame of it! Have I not been a good
wife to him? Have I not had reason to break my heart? But I waited,
and I wanted to be good and to do right. And to-night I was going to try
once more--I felt it in the opera. I was going to make one last effort
for his sake. It was for his sake I meant to make it, for I thought him
only hard and selfish, and that he had never loved; and if he only loved,
I thought--"

She broke off, wringing her hands and staring into space, the ghost of
the beautiful figure that had left the Opera House with shining eyes.

The Duchess caught the cold hands. "Yes, yes, darling, I know. I
understand. So does Windlehurst. He loves you as much as I do. We know
there isn't much to be got out of life; but we always hoped you would get
more than anybody else."

Hylda shrank, then raised her head, and looked at the Duchess with an
infinite pathos. "Oh, is it always so--in life? Is no one true? Is
every one betrayed sometime? I would die--yes, a thousand times yes, I
would rather die than bear this. What do I care for life--it has cheated
me! I meant well, and I tried to do well, and I was true to him in word
and deed even when I suffered most, even when--"

The Duchess laid a cheek against the burning head. "I understand, my own
dear. I understand--altogether."

"But you cannot know," the broken girl replied; "but through everything I
was true; and I have been tempted too when my heart was aching so, when
the days were so empty, the nights so long, and my heart hurt--hurt me.