"I hope you rested well after your excitement,"said Kimberly to Alice, laughing reassuringlyas he asked. It was the day following theirparting at the golf grounds. He had driven over toCedar Lodge and found Alice in the gardenwaiting for Dolly. The two crossed the terraceto a sheltered corner of the garden overlooking thebay where they could be alone. After Alice hadseated herself Kimberly repeated his question.

She regarded him long and thoughtfully as sheanswered, and with a sadness that was unexpected: "I did not rest at all. I do not even yetunderstand-perhaps I never shall-why I let you talkto me in that wild, wild way. But if I did notrest last night, I thought. I am to blame-Iknow that-as much as you are. Don't tell me.I am as much to blame as you are. But thiscannot go on."

His eyes were upon her hands as they lay acrossflowers in her lap. He took a spray from herwhile she spoke and bent his look upon it. Shewas all in white and he loved to see her in white.In it she fulfilled to him a dream of womanhood."I ought to ask you what you mean when yousay and think these fearful things," she went on, waiting for him to lift his eyes. "I ought to askyou; but you do not care what it means, at leastas far as you are concerned. And you never askyourself what it means as far as I am concerned."

He replied with no hesitation. "I beganasking myself that question almost the first time Iever saw you. I have asked myself nothing elseever since. It means for both of us exactly thesame thing; for you, everything you can ask thatI can give you; for me, everything I can give youthat you can ask."

"If there were no gulf between us-but there is.And even if what you say were true, you can seehow impossible it would be for me to say thosewords back to you."

He looked at the spray. "Quite true; youcannot. But I shall ask so little-less of youthan of any woman in the world. And you willgive only what you can, and when you can. Andyou alone are to be the judge of what you cangive and when, until our difficulties are worked out.

"I shall only show you now that I can bepatient. I never have been-I have confessed tothat. Now I am going to the test. Meantime, youdon't realize, Alice, quite, how young you are,do you? Nor how much in earnest I am. Letus turn to that for a while."

From a shrub at his side he plucked sprigsof rosemary and crushed them with the spray."Even love never begins but once. So, for everyhour that passes, a memory; for every hour thattarries, a happiness; for every hour that comes,a hope. Do you remember?"

"I read it on your sun-dial."

"Every one may read it there. Where I wantyou to read it is in my heart."

"I wonder whether it is most what you say, orthe way in which you say it, that gets people intotrouble?"

"On the contrary; my life has been spent ingetting people out of trouble, and in waiting to saythings to you."

"You are improving your opportunity in thatrespect. And you are losing a still moredelightful opportunity, for you don't know how muchrelief you can give me by leaving most of themunsaid."

"It is impossible, of course, to embrace all ofour opportunities-often impossible to embracethe cause of them."

"Don't pick me up in that way, please."

He held his hands over hers and dropped thecrushed rosemary on them. "Would that I couldin any way. Since I cannot, let me annoy you."

Dolly appeared at a distance, and they walkeddown the terrace to meet her. She kissed Alice."What makes you look so girlish to-day? Andwhat is all this color around your eyes? Neverwear anything but white. I never should myself,"sighed Dolly. "You know Alice and I are off forthe seashore," she added, turning to her brother.

"So I hear."

"Come along."

"Who is going?"

"Everybody, I suppose. They all know aboutthe trip."

"Where do you dine?"

"On the shore near the light-house. Arthuris bringing some English friends out from town;we are going to dance."

That night by the sea Kimberly and Alicedanced together. He held her like a child, andhis strength, which for a moment startled her, wasa new charm when she glided across the long, half-lighted floor within his arm. Her graceresponded perfectly to the ease with which he led, and they, stopped only when both were breathingfast, to stroll out on the dark pier and drink in therefreshment of the night wind from the ocean.

They remained out of doors a long time, talkingsometimes, laughing sometimes, walking sometimes, sometimes sitting down for a moment orkneeling upon the stone parapet benches to listento the surf pounding below them. When theywent in, he begged her again to dance. Notanswering in words she only lifted her arm witha smile. Making their way among those aboutthem they glided, he in long, undulating steps, she retreating in swift, answering rhythm, touching the floor as lightly as if she trod on air.

"This plume in your hat," he said as they movedon and on to the low, sensuous strains of themusic, "it nods so lightly. Where do you carryyour wings?"

The very effort of speaking was exhilarating."It is you," she answered, "who are supplyingthe wings."

The gayety of the others drew them more closelytogether. Little confidences of thought andfeeling-in themselves nothing, in theirunforbidden exchange everything-mutual confessions ofearly impressions each of the other, complimentsmore eagerly ventured and ignored now ratherthan resented. Surprise read in each other's eyes, dissent not ungracious and denial that onlylaughingly denied-all went to feed a secret happinessgrowing fearfully by leaps and bounds into tiesthat never could be broken.

The dance with its exhilaration, the plungingof her pulse and her quick, deep breathing, shonein Alice's cheeks and in her eyes. The two laughedat everything; everything colored their happinessbecause everything was colored by it.

The party drove home after a very late supper,Alice heavily wrapped and beside Dolly inKimberly's car. Entertainments for the English partyfollowed for a week and were wound up byKimberly with an elaborate evening for them at TheTowers. For the first time in years the big housewas dressed en fête and the illuminations made apicture that could be seen as far as the village.

Twenty-four sat at The Towers round table thatnight. Alice herself helped Dolly to pair the guestsand philosophically assigned her husband toLottie Nelson. Kimberly complimented her upon herarrangement.

"Why not?" she asked simply, though notwithout a certain bitterness with which she alwaysspoke of her husband. "People with tastes incommon seem to drift together whether you pairthem or not."

They were standing in an arbor and Kimberlywas plucking grapes for her.

"He is less than nothing to me," she continued,"as you too well know-or I should not be herenow eating your grapes."

"Your grapes, Alice. Everything here is yours.I haven't spoken much about our difficulties-'our'difficulties! The sweetness of the one wordblots out the annoyance of the other. But youmust know I shall never rest until you are installedhere with all due splendor as mistress, not aloneof the grapes, but of all you survey, for this is tobe wholly and simply yours. And if I dare askyou now and here, Alice-you whose every breathis more to me than the thought of all otherwomen-I want you to be my wife."

Her lips tightened. "And I am the wife ofanother man-it is horrible."

He heard the tremor in her tone. "Look at me."

"I cannot look at you."

"When you are free-"

"Free!" Her voice rising in despair, fell againinto despair. "I shall never be free."

"You shall, and that speedily, Alice!" Shecould imagine the blood surging into Kimberly'sneck and face as he spoke. "I am growingfearful that I cannot longer stand the thought of hisbeing under the same roof with you."

"He cannot even speak to me except before Annie."

Kimberly paused. "I do not like it. I wantit changed."

"How can I change it?"

"We shall find a way, and that very soon, toarrange your divorce from him."

"It is the one word, the one thought thatcrushes me." She turned toward him as if witha hard and quick resolve. "You know I am aCatholic, and you know I am ashamed to say it."

"Ashamed?"

"I have disgraced my faith."

"Nonsense, you are an ornament to any faith."

"Do not say that!" She spoke with despairingvehemence. "You don't realize how grotesqueit sounds. If what you say were true I shouldnot be here."

He drew himself up. There was a resentfulnote in his tone. "I did not suppose myself sucha moral leper that it would be unsafe for any oneto talk to me. Other Catholics-and goodones-talk to me, and apparently withoutcontamination."

"It is only that I have no right to. Now youare going to be angry with me."

He saw her eyes quiver. "God forbid! Imisunderstood. And you are sensitive, dearest."

"I am sensitive," she said reluctantly. "Morethan ever, perhaps, since I have ceasedpractising my religion."

"But why have you ceased?"

Her words came unwillingly. "I could not help it."

"Why could you not help it?"

"You ask terribly hard questions."

"You must have wanted to give it up."

"I did not want to. I was forced to."

"Who could force you?"

He saw what an effort it cost her to answer.The words were dragged from her. "I could notlive with my husband and practise it."

"So much the more reason for quitting him, isn't it?"

"Oh, I want to. I want to be free. If I onlycould."

"Alice, you speak like one in despair. Thereis nothing to be so stirred about. You want to befree, I want you to be, you shall be. Don't getexcited over the matter of a divorce. Your eyesare like saucers at the thought. Why?"

"Only because for me it is the final disgrace-notto be separated from him-but to marry againwith him alive! It means the last step for me.And the public scandal! What will they say ofme, who knew me at home?"

"Alice, this is the wildest supersensitiveness.The whole world lives in divorced marriages.Public scandal? No one will ever hear of yourdivorce. The courts that grant your plea willattend to suppressing everything."

"Not everything!"

"Why not? We abase them every day to somany worse things that their delicate gorges willnot rise at a little favor like that."

She looked at him gravely. "What does theworld say of you for doing such things?"

"I never ask. You know, of course, I neverpay any attention to what the world says ofanything I do. Why should I? It would bedifficult for the world to despise me as much as Idespise it. You don't understand the world. Allyou need is my strength. I felt that from the veryfirst-that if I could give you my strength thecombination would be perfect. That is why I am sohelplessly in love with you-my strength must beyours. I want to put you on a throne. Then Istand by, see? – and guard your majesty with agreat club. And I can do it."

They laughed together, for he spoke guardedly,as to being heard of others, but with ominousenergy. "I believe you could," murmured Alice.

"Don't worry over your religion. I will makeyou practise it. I will make a devotee of you."

"Robert! Robert!"

He stooped for her hand and in spite of a littlestruggle would not release it until he had kissedit. "Do you know it is the first time my namehas ever passed your lips?" he murmured.

She was silent and he went on with anotherthought. "Alice, I don't believe you are as bada Catholic as you think. I'll tell you why. Ihave known Catholic women, and men, too, thathave given up their religion. Understand, I knownothing about your religion, but I do knowsomething about men and women. And when theybegin elaborate explanations they think theydeceive me. In matter of fact, they deceive onlythemselves. When they begin to talk aboutprogress, freedom of thought, decay of dogmas, individual liberty and all that twaddle, and assumea distinctly high, intellectual attitude, even thoughI don't know what they have given up, I knowwhat they are assuming; I get their measureinstantly. I've sometimes thought that when Godcalls us up to speak on judgment day He willsay in the most amiable manner: 'Just tell yourown story in your own way.' And that our ownstories, told in our own way, will be all the dataHe will need to go ahead on. Indeed, He wouldnot always need divine prescience to see throughthem; in most cases mere human insight wouldbe enough. Just listen to the ordinary story ofthe ordinary man and notice how out of his ownmouth he condemns himself. I see that sort ofposturing every day in weak-kneed men andwomen who want to enlist large sums of money tofloat magnificent schemes. Now you are honestwith yourself and honest with me, and I see inthis a vital difference."

They walked back through the garden andencountered Brother Francis who was taking theair. Kimberly stopped him. Nelson andImogene joined the group. "Ah, Francis!" exclaimedImogene, "have they caught you saying your beads?"

"Not this time, Mrs. Kimberly."

"Come now, confess. What were you doing?"

Brother Francis demurred and protested butthere was no escape. He pointed to The Towers."I came out to see the beautiful illumination. Itis very beautiful, is it not?"

"But that isn't all, for when we came along youwere looking at the sky."

"Ah, the night is so clear-the stars are so strongto-night-"

"Go on."

"I was thinking of Italy."

CHAPTER XXVIII

"I never can catch Brother Francis, thinkingof anything but Italy," remarked Kimberly.

"Who can blame him?" exclaimed Imogene.

"Or the hereafter," added Kimberly.

Nelson grunted. "I'm afraid he doesn't findmuch sympathy here on that subject," heobserved, looking from one to another.

"Don't be mistaken, Nelson," said Kimberly,"I think about it, and Francis will tell you so. Ihave already made tentative arrangements withhim on that score. Francis is to play Lazarus tomy Dives. When I am in hell I am to have mycup of cold water from him. And remember,Francis, if you love me, the conditions. Don'tforget the conditions; they are the essence of thecontract. I am to have the water one drop at atime. Don't forget that; one drop at a time.Eternity is a long, long while."

Francis, ill at ease, took a pinch of snuff tocompose himself.

"Your rôle doesn't seem altogether to yourliking, Francis," suggested Imogene.

"His rôle! Why, it's paradise itself comparedto mine," urged Kimberly.

Brother Francis drew his handkerchief andwiped his nose very simply. "I pray, Robert,"he said, "that you may never be in hell."

"But keep me in your eye, Francis. Don'trelax your efforts. A sugar man is liable tostumble and fall in while your back is turned."

"We must get started for the lake," announcedImogene. "Brother Francis, we are all goingdown to see The Towers from the water. Willyou come?"

Francis excused himself, and his companionsjoined the other guests who were gathering at thewater. Oarsmen were waiting with barges andfires burned from the pillars of the esplanade.As the boats left the shore, music came acrossthe water. Alice, with Kimberly, caught a glimpseof her husband in a passing boat. "Having agood time?" he cried. For answer she wavedher hand.

"Are you really having a good time?" Kimberlyasked. "I mean, do you care at all for thiskind of thing?"

"Of course, I care for it. Who could help it?It is lovely. Where are we going?"

"Down the lake a mile or two; then the boatswill return for the fireworks."

"You don't seem very lively yourself to-night.Are you bored?"

"No; only wondering whether you will godriving with me to-morrow."

"I said I would not."

"I hoped, of course, you might reconsider."

He did not again press the subject of the drive, but when they were walking up the hill after therockets and showers of gold falling down the darksky, she told him he might come for her the nextday. "I don't know how it is," she murmured,"but you always have your own way. You windme right around your finger."

He laughed. "If I do, it is only because Idon't try to."

"I realize it; that is what puzzles me."

"The real secret is, not that I wind you aroundmy finger, but that you don't want to hurt myfeelings. I find something to wonder at, too.When I am with you-even when you are anywherenear me, I am totally different. Alone, Iam capable of withdrawing wholly within myself.I am self-absorbed and concentrated. Withyou I am never wholly within myself. I am, seemingly, partly in your consciousness."

Alice shook her head. "It is true," he persisted."It is one of the consequences of love; tobe drawn out of one's self. I have it." Heturned to her, questioningly, "Can you understand it?"

"I think so."

"But do you ever feel it?"

"Sometimes."

"Never, of course, for me?"

"Sometimes."

CHAPTER XXIX

"This is a courtship without any spring," saidDolly one night to her husband. Theywere discussing her brother and Alice. "Atfirst it was all winter, now it is all summer."

She thought they showed themselves together toomuch in public, and their careless intimacy was,in fact, outwardly unrestrained.

Not that Dolly was censorious. Her philosophyfound refuge in fatalism. And since what is tobe must be-especially where the Kimberlys wereconcerned-why worry over the complications?Seemliness, however, Dolly held, was to beregarded, and concerning this she felt she ought tobe consulted. The way to be consulted she hadlong ago learned was to find fault.

But if she herself reproved Kimberly and Alice,Dolly allowed no one else to make their affairs asubject of comment. Lottie Nelson, who couldnever be wholly suppressed, was silenced whenoccasion offered. One afternoon at The Hickories,Alice's name being mentioned, Lottie askedwhether Robert was still chasing her.

"Chasing her?" echoed Dolly contemptuouslyand ringing the changes on the objectionable word,"Of course; why shouldn't he chase her? Whoelse is there to chase? He loves the excitementof the hunt; and who else around here is there tohunt? The other women hunt him. No manwants anything that comes tumbling after him.What we want is what we can't get; or at leastwhat we're not sure of getting."

Kimberly and Alice if not quite unconscious ofcomment were at least oblivious of it. Theymotored a great deal, always at their own will, and they accounted to no one for their excursions.

"They are just a pair of bad children," saidImogene to Dolly. "And they act like children."

One of their diversions in their rambling driveswas to stop children and talk with them or askquestions of them. One day near Sunbury theyencountered a puny, skeleton-faced boy, ahighway acquaintance, wheeling himself along in aninvalid chair.

They had never hitherto talked with this boyand they now stopped their car and backed up.Alice usually asked the questions. "I thoughtyou lived away at the other end of the village, laddie?"

"Yes'm, I do."

"You haven't wheeled yourself all this way?"

"Yes'm."

"What's the matter with you that you can'twalk, Tommie?" demanded Kimberly.

"My back is broken."

Alice made a sympathetic exclamation. "Mydear little fellow-I'm very sorry for you!"

The boy smiled. "Oh, don't be sorry for me."

"Not sorry for you?"

"I have a pretty good time; it's my mother-I'msorry for her."

"Ah, indeed, your mother!" echoed Alice, struckby his words. "I am sorry for both of you then.And how did you break your back?"

"In our yard-climbing, ma'am."

"Poor devil, he's not the first one that hasbroken his back climbing," muttered Kimberly, taking a note from his waistcoat. "Give himsomething, Alice."

"As much as this?" cried Alice under herbreath, looking at the note and at Kimberly.

"Why not? It's of no possible use to us, andit will be a nine-months' wonder in that littlehousehold."

Alice folded the note up and stretched herwhite-gloved hand toward the boy. "Take this hometo your mother."

"Thank you. I can make little baskets," headded shyly.

"Can you?" echoed Alice, pleased. "Wouldyou make one for me?"

"I will bring one up to your house if you wantme to."

"That would be too far! And you don't knowwhere I live."

The boy looked at the green and black car as ifhe could not be mistaken. "Up at The Towers,ma'am."

Brice, who took more than a mild interest in thesituation, grinned inwardly.

Kimberly and Alice laughed together. "Verywell; bring it to The Towers," directed Kimberly,"I'll see that she gets it."

"Yes, sir."

"And see here; don't lose that note, Tommie.By Heavens, he handles money more carelesslythan I do. No matter, wait till his mother sees it."

While they were talking to the boy, Dolly droveup in her car and stopped a moment to chat andscold. They laughed at her and she drove awayas if they were hopeless.

"Your sister is the dearest woman," remarkedAlice as Dolly's car disappeared. "I am so fondof her, I believe I am growing like her."

"Don't grow too like her."

"Why not?"

"Dolly has too much heart. It gets her intotrouble."

"She says you have too much, yourself."

"I've paid for it, too; I've been in trouble."

"And I shall be, if you don't take me homepretty soon."

"Don't let us go home as long as we can goanywhere else," pleaded Kimberly. "When wego home we are separated."

He often attempted to talk with Alice of herhusband. "Does he persecute you in any way?"demanded Kimberly, trying vainly to get to details.

Alice's answer was always the same. "Not now."

"But he used to?" Kimberly would persist.

"Don't ask me about that."

"If he ever should lay a hand on you,Alice-"

"Pray, pray," she cried, "don't look like that.And don't get excited; he is not going to lay ahand on me."

They did not reach Cedar Lodge untilsundown and when they drove up to the houseMacBirney, out from town, was seated on the bigporch alone. They called a greeting to him asthey slowed up and he answered in kind.Kimberly, without any embarrassment, got out toassist Alice from the car. The courtesy of hismanner toward her seemed emphasized inMacBirney's presence.

On this night, it was, perhaps, the picture ofKimberly standing at the door of his own cargiving his hand to MacBirney's wife to alight, thatangered the husband more than anything thathad gone before. Kimberly's consideration forAlice was so pronounced as completely to ignoreMacBirney himself.

The small talk between the two when Alicealighted, the laughing exchanges, the amiablefamiliarity, all seemed to leave no place in thesituation for MacBirney, and were undoubtedlymeant so to be understood. Kimberlygood-humoredly proffered his attentions to that endand Alice could now accept them with theutmost composure.

Fritzie had already come over to Cedar Lodgefrom Imogene's for dinner and Kimberly returnedafterward from The Towers, talking till late in theevening with MacBirney on business affairs. Hethen drove Fritzie back to The Cliffs.

MacBirney, smarting with the stings ofjealousy, found no outlet for his feeling until hewas left alone with his wife. It was after eleveno'clock when Alice, reading in her sitting-room, heard her husband try the door connecting fromhis apartments. Finding it bolted, as usual,MacBirney walked out on the loggia and came intoher room through the east door which she hadleft open for the sea-breeze. He was smoking andhe sat down on a divan. Alice laid her book onher knee.

It was a moment before he spoke. "You seemto be making Kimberly a pretty intimate memberof the family," he began.

"Oh, do you think so? Charles or Robert?"

"You know very well who I mean."

"If you mean Robert, he is a familiar in everyfamily circle around the lake. It is his way, isn'tit? I don't suppose he is more intimate here thanat Lottie's, is he? Or at Dolly's or Imogene's?"

"They are his sisters," returned MacBirney, curtly.

"Lottie isn't. And I thought you wanted merather to cultivate Robert, didn't you, Walter?"asked Alice indifferently.

He was annoyed to be reminded of the fact butmade no reply.

"Robert is a delightfully interesting man,"continued Alice recklessly, "don't you think so?"

MacBirney returned to the quarrel fromanother quarter. "Do you know how much moneyyou have spent here at Cedar Lodge in the lastfour months?"

Alice maintained her composure. "I haven'tan idea."

He paused. "I will tell you how much, sinceyou're so very superior to the subject. Just twiceas much as we spent the first five years we weremarried."

"Quite a difference, isn't it?"

"It is-quite a difference. And the differenceis reckless extravagance. You seem to have lostyour head."

"Suppose it is reckless extravagance! Whatdo you mean to say-that I spent all the money?This establishment is of your choosing, isn't it?And have you spent nothing? How do you expectto move in a circle of people such as live aroundthis lake without reckless extravagance?"

"By using a little common-sense in yourexpenditures."

For some moments they wrangled over variousdetails of the ménage. Alice at length cut thepurposeless recrimination short. "You spoke ofthe first five years we were married. You knowI spent literally nothing the first five years ofour married life. You continually said you weretrying 'to build up.' That was your cry frommorning till night, and like a dutiful wife, I woremy own old clothes for the first two years. Thenthe next three years I wore made-over hats andhunted up ready-made suits to enable you to'build up.'"

"Yes," he muttered, "and we were a good dealhappier then than we are now."

She made an impatient gesture. "Do speakfor yourself, Walter. You were happier, nodoubt. I can't remember that you ever gave meany chance to be happy."

"Too bad about you. You look like a poor, unhappy thing-half-fed and half-clothed."

"Now that you have 'built up,'" continuedAlice, "and brought me into a circle not in theleast of my choosing, and instructed me againand again to 'keep our end up,' you complainof 'reckless extravagance.'"

"Well, for a woman that I took with a travellingsuit from a bankrupt father, and put at the headof this establishment, you certainly can holdyour 'end up,'" laughed MacBirney harshly.

"Just a moment," returned Alice, with angryeyes. "You need not taunt me about my father.When you were measuring every day the sugarand coffee we were to use during the first fiveyears of our married life, you should haveforeseen you couldn't move as a millionaire amongmultimillionaires without spending a lot of money."

MacBirney turned white. "Thank you for remindingme," he retorted, with shining teeth, "ofthe thrift of which you have since had the advantages."

"Oh dear, no, Walter. The advantages of thatkind of thrift are purely imaginary. The leastspark of loving-kindness during those years wouldhave been more to me than all the petty meannessesnecessary to build up a fortune. But it is toolate to discuss all this."

MacBirney could hardly believe his ears. Herose hastily and threw himself into another chair."You've changed your tune mightily since 'thefirst five years of our married life,'" he said.

Alice tossed her head.

"But I want you to understand, I haven't."

"I believe that!"

"And I've brought you to time before now, withall of your high airs, and I'll do it again."

"Oh, no; not again."

"I'll teach you who is master under this roof."

"How like the sweet first five years that sounds!"

He threw his cigar angrily away. "I knowexactly what's the matter with you. You have runaround with this lordly Kimberly till he has turnedyour head. Now you are going to stop it, nowand here!"

"Am I?"

"You are."

"Hadn't you better tell Mr. Kimberly that?"

"I will tell you, you are getting yourself talkedabout, and it is going to stop. Everybody istalking about you."

Alice threw back her head. "So? Where didyou hear that?"

"Lambert told me yesterday."

"I hope you were manly enough to defend yourwife. Where did you see Lambert?"

"I saw him in town."

"I shouldn't listen to silly gossip from Lambert, and I shouldn't see Lambert again."

"How long have you been adviser as to whomI had better or better not see?" askedMacBirney contemptuously.

"You will find me a good adviser on some pointsin your affairs, and that is one."

"If you value your advice highly, you shouldpart with it sparingly."

"I know what you value highly; and if RobertKimberly finds out you are consorting withLambert it will end your usefulness in hiscombinations very suddenly."

The thrust, severe in any event, was made keenerby the fact that it frightened him into rage."Since you come from a family that has made sucha brilliant financial showing-" he began.

"Oh, I know," she returned wearily, "but youhad better take care." He looked at his wifeastounded. "You have insulted me enough," sheadded calmly, "about the troubles of my father.The 'first five years' are at an end. I have spoiledyou, Walter, by taking your abuse so longwithout striking back and I won't do it any more."

"What do you mean?" he cried, springing fromhis chair. "Do you think you are to keep yourdoors bolted against me for six months at a timeand then browbeat and abuse me when I comeinto your room to talk to you? Who paid forthese clothes you wear?" he demanded, pointingin a fury.

"I try never to think of that, Walter," repliedAlice, rising to her feet but controlling herselfmore than she could have believed possible. "Itry never to think of the price I have paid foranything I have; if I did, I should go mad andstrip these rags from my shoulders."

She stood her ground with flashing eyes. "I,not you," she cried, "have paid for what I haveand the clothes I wear. I paid for them-notyou-with my youth and health and hopes andhappiness. I paid for them with the life of mylittle girl; with all that a wretched woman cansacrifice to a brute. Paid for them! God help me!How haven't I paid for them?"

She stopped for sheer breath, but before hecould find words she spoke again. "Now, I amdone with you forever. I am out of your powerforever. Thank God, some one will protect mefrom your brutality for the rest of my life-"

MacBirney clutched the back of a chair. "Soyou have picked up a lover, have you? Thissounds very edifying from my dear, dutiful, religious wife." Hardly able to form the wordsbetween his trembling lips, he smiled horribly.

She turned on him like a tigress. "No," shepanted, "no! I am no longer your religious wife.It wasn't enough that I should go shabby andhungry to make you rich. Because I still hadsomething left in my miserable life to help mebear your cruelty and meanness you must takethat away too. What harm did my religion doyou that you should ridicule it and sneer at it andthreaten and abuse me for it? You grudged thefew hours I took from your household drudgeryto get to church. You promised before youmarried me that our children should be baptized in myfaith, and then refused baptism to my dying baby."