"Must lose herself in him," said Irene, coldly. "Become a cypher, a

slave. That will not suit me, Hartley!" And she looked at him with

firmly compressed mouth and steady eyes.

It came to his lips to reply, "Then you had better return to your

father," but he caught the words back ere they leaped forth into

sound, and, rising, walked the floor for the space of more than five

minutes, Irene not stirring from the sofa. Pausing at length, he

said in a voice which had lost its steadiness: "You had better go up to your room, Irene. We are not in a condition

to help each other now."

Mrs. Emerson did not answer, but, rising, left the parlor and went

as her husband had suggested. He stood still, listening, until the

sound of her steps and the rustle of her garments had died away into

silence, when he commenced slowly walking the parlor floor with his

head bent down, and continued thus, as if he had forgotten time and

place, for over an hour. Then, awakened to consciousness by a sense

of dizziness and exhaustion, he laid himself upon a sofa, and,

shutting his eyes, tried to arrest the current of his troubled

thoughts and sink into sleep and forgetfulness.




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