Resignation is a daily suicide, and she had not enough to outlast the night.

The hours limped. The afternoon was on the wane, and still she toyed with sorrow until suddenly she bethought herself of the need of immediate action. Usselex would presently return, but when he came again to her room, he should find it empty. At once, then, she made her preparations, and telling the startled maid to complete them, and to follow with the boxes to her father's house, she started out on foot, her wardrobe packed, and ready for removal.

As Eden hurried through the streets, she was conscious only that freedom was her goal. Everything else she put from her. It was to her father she turned; it was through him that freedom would be obtained; and as she hurried she pictured the indignation with which he would hear her tale.

He, indeed, was one on whom she could lean. Whatever other men might be, he, at least was above reproach. Had he not for twenty years been faithful to a memory. Surely her mother when she lived must have enjoyed that gift of gifts, perfect confidence and trust.

So far back in the past as her memory extended she saw him always considerate, gentle of manner, courteous to inferiors, deferential to women, una.s.suming, and exemplary of life. In very truth there was none other in the world like him. And when at last she entered his house she told herself she was safe, and when the door closed, that she was free.

She knew without inquiry where to find him, and hastened at once to the library, breathless when she reached his chair. He had been dozing over a book, but at the rustle of her gown, he started and rubbed his eyes.

"It's good of you to come," he said, by way of greeting. "Why, Eden, I haven't seen you for two days. Sit down there and let me look at you.

It's odd; I was going to you after the funeral. You know about General Meredith, don't you? He went off like that. He is to be buried this afternoon."

Mr. Menemon stood up and hunted for a match with which to light a lamp.

"Yes," he continued, "he was only ill for twenty-four hours. Think of that, now! To tell you the truth, I haven't been very bright myself. I wanted to speak to you about it. All last winter I was more or less under the weather, and for some time I have been planning a trip abroad.

Now that you have an establishment of your own, Eden, you won't want me." And as he said this, he smiled.

"Father, I have more need of you than ever."

"Yes," he answered, "I was jesting. I know you will miss me; but I will come back with the violets."

He had succeeded in lighting the lamp and, still smiling, he turned and looked at her. "The father-in-law element," he continued, and then stopped abruptly, amazed at the expression of his daughter's face. "What is it, Eden?" he asked at last.

"If you go abroad, I go with you."

For a moment he eyed her, as though seeking, untold, to divine the meaning of her words.

"Nothing has gone wrong, has it?" he asked.

"He has deceived me."

"Usselex?"

"Who else is there whose deception I would notice?"

"You are mistaken, Eden; it is my fault; he consulted me in the matter----"

"He consulted _you_? But how is such a thing possible. He never could have consulted you, and if he had you would not have listened."

"Ah! but I did though. Between ourselves I thought it not uninteresting.

After all, it was not his fault. I thought it unadvisable that you should learn of it before marriage, and afterwards, well, afterwards, it was immaterial whether you did or whether you didn't."

"Father, either it is not you that speak, or I am demented."

"There, my dear, don't take it so seriously. I can't call it an everyday matter, of course, but such things do happen, and as I said before, a man's a man for all of that. If he said nothing it was because--well, Eden, how could he? Ask yourself, how could he?"

"You knew of this before my marriage and you permitted the marriage to take place?"

"Well--er, yes, Eden. Frankly now, it was a difficult matter to discuss with you. You see, it was this way: a young girl like yourself, brought up as you have been, is apt to have prejudices which men and women of the world do not always share. And this is a case in point. Even now that you are married I can understand your disapproval, but----"

"Disapproval! Is that what you call it? Have you no other term? Father, it seems to me that you are worse than he. Had anyone told me that you could countenance such a thing I would have denied his sanity." She hid her face in her hands and moaned dumbly to herself, "I am desolate,"

she murmured, "I am desolate, indeed."

"No, Eden, not that, not that. Eden, listen to me; there, if you only listen to me a moment. Eden, it is not a thing that I countenance, nor is it one of which I approve. But the fault is not his. It is in the nature of some women that such things should be. It is a thing to be deplored, to be overlooked. The old law held that the sins of the father should be visited on the son; but we are more liberal now. Besides, it is part of the past; what use is there----"

"Part of the past? I saw him with her the day before yesterday, and----"

"Why, she is dead."

"Father, of whom are you speaking?"

"Of his mother, of course; and you?"

"I am speaking of his mistress, whom he wishes your daughter to entertain."

"Eden, it is impossible. I misunderstood you. What you say is absurd.

Usselex is incapable of such infamy."

"He is, then, and he has the capacity to have me share it too."

"But tell me, what grounds have you for saying----"

"On Monday I was at the opera. In the stalls was a woman that stared at me----"

"Many another I am sure did that."

"And the next afternoon I saw him with her. He sent me a note saying he was detained on business. When he returned he made some lame excuse, which I, poor fool, believed. Previously I had intercepted a letter----"

"A letter?"

"Yes, a letter such as those women write. He pretended it was not for him, and for the moment I believed that too. Oh, I have been credulous enough."

"Eden, you must let it pa.s.s."

"Not I."

"Ah, but Eden, you must; you must let it pa.s.s. I will speak to Usselex."

"That you may, of course; but as for me, I never will."

"My child, you are so wrong. What can I say to you? Eden--"

"Father, he has deceived me. Wantonly, grossly, and without excuse.

Speak to him again, I never will--"

"Eden--"

"--And if I ever see him it will be in court. It was for victims like myself that courts were invented."