"I know--perhaps because I was a d.a.m.ned fool. Anyway, we won't argue. You will come with me tomorrow."

"No, Chris, I shall not."

There was a tragic silence.

"Why not?" Chris asked again hoa.r.s.ely.

Her lips trembled, but she answered quite gently: "Because I would rather stay here--with Aunt Madge."

She saw the hot blood leap to his face, and quite suddenly he broke out in blind pa.s.sion.

"With Feathers, you mean! Speak the truth and admit it! You want to stay here with him and knock about with him, as you did when I was in Scotland I I'm not such a blind fool as you think! It's Feathers who has changed you so! Do you think I can't see the difference in you when you're with him and when you're with me? Do you think other people can't see it, too? You heard what that woman, Mrs.

Heriot, said at lunch to-day ..."

Marie's lip curled contemptuously, though her heart was racing and she was as white as a ghost.

"Mrs. Heriot!" she echoed disdainfully.

"And everyone else, too!" he raved on. "It's got to stop, I tell you. You're coming away with me to-morrow. Do you think I want my wife talked about by a lot of scandalmongering women? ..." He broke off breathlessly, but Marie neither spoke nor raised her eyes, and the coldness of her averted face cut him to the heart. He caught her by the shoulders roughly.

"You used to love me, Marie Celeste," he said brokenly.

"Did I?" The brown eyes met his now. "You never loved me," she said, very quietly.

He broke out again into fresh anger. He raged up and down the room, hardly knowing what he was doing. He hated himself for his blindness, hated her more because she could stand there so unmoved.

"You'll come away with me to-morrow," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "I insist-- you're my wife!"

"Yes--unfortunately," she said, white-lipped.

He stared at her with hot eyes.

"Is that how you feel about it? You hate me as much as that? I know I haven't treated you as well as I might have done--I know I'm a selfish chap--but you knew that when you married me--you've always known it."

She gave a little weary sigh.

"What does it matter? I'm not complaining; you've always been free."

"I don't want to be free; you're my wife. Marie Celeste, for G.o.d's sake ..." She put up her hand.

"Oh, Chris--please."

It hurt inexpressibly to hear him pleading to her--he who had never done such a thing in his life--and yet ... "I don't care! I don't care at all!" she was saying over and over again in her heart.

He took her hand.

"Can't we start again? I'll do my very best--I swear I will. I know you're too good for me--you ways have been. I don't deserve that you should ever have married me, but it's not too late, Marie Celeste. Come away with me, and I'll show you that I can treat you decently when I like."

Someone knocked at the door. "Please, sir. Miss Chester sent me to say that dinner was ready half an hour ago."

Marie drew her hand away quickly. The interruption was very welcome.

"Let me go--please! Aunt Madge will think it so strange."

"In a moment, Marie. Will you come with me to-morrow? We'll go where you like; I'll do anything in the world you wish..."

She shook her head.

"I don't know; I can't decide now. Ill think it over."

"When will you tell me?"

"I don't know; to-morrow--yes, to-morrow morning."

She made the terms to escape from him and went to her room and stood for a moment with her hands hard pressed over her eyes.

The storm had come so suddenly. She wondered what had been responsible for it. Had Mrs. Heriot said anything more--or could it have been Feathers himself? She could hardly force herself to go down to dinner, as she was shaken to the depths of her soul.

Chris talked ceaselessly during dinner. He drank a good deal of wine, and his face grew flushed and his eyes excited.

"You're not going out again, surely?" Miss Chester asked him when afterwards he came to the drawing-room for a moment in his overcoat.

"I am--just for a stroll; it's so hot indoors." He looked at Marie.

"Will you come?" he asked jerkily.

"I'd rather not; I'm tired--I think I'll stay with Aunt Madge."

But as soon as he had gone she went up to her room and sat down in the darkness. A lifetime seemed to have been crowded into this one day. She felt that she had aged years since they started out in the morning.

Feathers loved her! The knowledge stood out like a beacon light in the darkness. She knew what her life would be with him--happiness and contentment, and she did so long for happiness.

He was a good man, and a strong man; all her empty heart seemed to stretch out to him in pa.s.sionate grat.i.tude and longing.

But she was married ... She felt for her wedding ring in the darkness and held it fast.

She had married the man she loved, believing that he loved her.

Well, he did not! She was his wife in name only! Would there be any great harm if she snapped the frail tie between them?

She sat there for a long, long time, tortured with doubts and indecision. What ought she to do?

Miss Chester came up presently to say good-night. She knew quite well that there had been some trouble between Chris and Marie, but she asked no questions.

"Sleep well, dearie," she said as she went away, and Marie smiled bitterly. How could anyone sleep well, torn as she was by such miserable indecision?

Did she love Feathers? She could not be sure. That she loved him as a dear friend she knew; that she was always happy with him she also knew; but there was none of the romance and wonder in it that had thrilled her when Chris asked her to marry him.

She wrung her hands in the darkness.