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    "Oh, that would be horribletoo horrible. But I will confess to him; I will tell him everythingon my deathbed. Yes, when life is ebbing, when the end is close, I will tell him. He shall know what a false and perjured creature I am. I swore to himswore before God that I was true and faithfulthat I loved him and no other. And it was true, absolute truth, when I took that oath. My sin was a thing of the past. I had loved another, and I had let my love lead me into sin. And then my husband asked me if[Pg 267] I had been true and pure always; always. 'Is that true, Isola? I call upon God to hear your answer,' he said. And I answered yes, it was true. I lied before God rather than lose my husband's love; and God heard me, and the blight of His anger has been upon me ever since, withering and consuming me."

    "No, no, no. It is not that. He is worthy. He is all that I could desire in the man who is to be your husband. No, I was only thinking how completely happy you and he must behow cloudless your life promises to be. God keep you, and guard you, dear! And may you never know the pain of parting with the husband you lovewith your protector and friendas I have known it."

    She put on her hat and jacket, and went out into the[Pg 30] garden again, singing "La Lettre de Perichole" as she went. It was a capital idea to take refuge in her boat. If his lordship should callwhich was doubtfulsince he might be one of that numerous race of people whose days are made up of unfulfilled intentions and promises never realizedif he should call, she would be far away when he came. He would make his inquiry, leave his card, which would look nice in the old Indian bowl on the hall-table. Such cards have a power of flotation unknown to other pasteboard; they are always at the top.

    He turned abruptly, and skirted the hill on his way to the gardens of the Villa Borghese, where he found shade and seclusion in the early afternoon. The carriages of fashionable Rome had not yet begun to drive in at the gate. The cypress avenues, the groves of immemorial ilex, the verdant lawns where the fountains leapt sunward, were peopled only by creatures of fable, fixed in marble, faun and dryad, hero and god. Martin Disney plunged into the shadow of one of those funereal avenues, andwhile the sun blazed in almost tropical splendour upon the open lawn in the far distancehe walked as it were in the deep of night, a night whose gloom harmonized with that darker night in his despairing heart.

    "She was. She was one of my mother's earliest and dearest friends."

    CHAPTER XIX.

    "He wants you to meet Captain Hulbert. Perhaps you know him already?"She landed on the beach at Arcachonpenniless, but with a diamond ring on her wedding fingerher engagement ringwhich she knew, by a careless admission of Martin Disney's, to have cost fifty pounds. She left the milliner, and went into the little town, dreading to meet Lostwithiel at every step. She found a complacent jeweller who was willing to[Pg 317] advance twenty-five Napoleons upon the ring, and promised to return it to her on the receipt of that sum, with only a bagatelle of twenty francs for interest, since Madame would redeem her pledge almost immediately.

    That weighed upon her gentle dust."CHAPTER XXV.

    Lamps were burning in dining-room and drawing-room. He saw the table laid for dinner through the open door as he and Isola passed by; but the idea of eating and drinking seemed very far off just now. They went into the drawing-room together, where a solitary lamp was shining upon a table crowded with flowers, and where the scents of the garden came in through the open window. Here he satisfied the longing of his hungry heart, and took that fragile form in his arms, and kissed the pale cold lips. She lay upon his breast unresistingly; helpless, unresponsive, like a dead thing.Idly exploring the contents of the secretaire in the drawing-room one day, Martin Disney found the telegraphic message which his wife had writtenand left unsentbefore the Hunt Ball.

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