"I do a.s.sure you."

"Then I don't want it either."

"And Erzeele?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's not as people say."

"What do they say?"

"That he is my lover. He's not that."

"I never supposed he was."

"I value his friendship ... but I could not be his wife."

"Why not?"

"Because I am your wife."

"Do you feel that?"

"Always."

"My poor child!" he said, in spite of himself.

"Why do you pity me?" she asked, proudly.

"Because I have done you a wrong. Because I am unable to atone."

"You have done me no wrong. We loved each other very much ... then. At that time ... I thought I understood you. Now I no longer understand you. You breathe too rarefied an air for me."

"No, it isn't that. But...."

"What?"

"Nothing. So, Tilly, you don't want us to be divorced."

She looked at him anxiously:

"No," she entreated.

"Well, dear, then we won't be," he said, gently. "Only ... our present life ... is no life at all. So it will be better if...."

"If what?"

"If I don't stay with you, if I go away."

"And I?"

"You remain here, in this house, where everything is as you like it. You stay ... with our children."

"Our ... our children," she stammered.

"Perhaps later...."

"What?"

"Because of our children, we shall come together again ... when all misunderstanding has disappeared."

"I don't follow you."

"Perhaps you will later. But perhaps also ... you will become so fond of Erzeele ... that...."

She shook her head, stared before her.

"We never know," said Addie, gently.

"No," she said, pensively. "I know nothing ... nothing now. I used to think ... that you knew everything."

"I do sometimes know things ... for others. I have not known for myself."

"And now?"

"Now I know better ... for you."

"For me?"

"Yes, now I _know_, Tilly ... that it is better for you ... that I should leave you...."

"For good?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps for a long time ... only...."

"And the children? Won't you be longing for them?"

It was more than he could bear; and he said nothing, only nodded yes.

Then he said:

"But they will be all right ... with you, Tilly."

It was more than she could bear either. She fell into a chair, sobbing.

"Don't be unhappy, Tilly," he said. "We _must_ make a change. If we remain as we are, we shall end by hating each other.... Don't be unhappy about parting ... when you reflect ... that it is really out of the question for us to remain together."

"You are right," she said, coldly. "So...."

"You will stay here. You will live here. That is, if you like."

"And you?"