eyes; "he will
explain to you, my child." There was a tenderness, a hope, a
voluptuousness of sweet earthly things in her manner toward the poor
girl now, which all her life Vesty had missed.

Heart and flesh were weary, and Notely, who had been the light of her
life once, looked up at her with that weight of sorrow, so much darker
and heavier than her own; so much heavier because it was dark.

"Help me to bear it!" he said.

She understood all; she laid her head beside him, sobbing.

"Vesty, you know the doctors say that I shall live; but--now that I am
sane again, I do not know why I should wish to live."

She put her hand on his. Alas! in spite of reckless wandering and
tragedy, and forsaken faith and duty, the touch only thrilled him with
his own dreams as of old.

"Listen, Vesty!--just as you used to be my little woman and reason with
me. Ugh! how weak I am! I'm not worth saving. It is of little
consequence, truly; but, such as it is, it all lies with you. Some
time, Vesty--I am speaking of what must be some time, dearest; and
remember, it is often done in the world, among those who are highest
and richest and socially recognized--well, it is a familiar thing: as
soon as it can be well arranged--and that soon, now--my wife and I
shall be divorced. We have both wished it, we are unhappy together, it
is a wrong for us to live together. She has been untrue enough to me,
as I to her, but let that pass; such things are not for your ears to
hear, only you need have no qualms. Grace will be more congenially
wedded within two months after we are parted.

"And then--Vesty? Well, will you not speak to me? Is it to be life
and honor, with your love at last, or despair and death? You were
promised to me once. In spite of all, you cannot hold yourself your
own; you are mine; the wife God meant for me. O Vesty! let us blot out
the confused past with all its mistakes! It is killing me--will kill
me body and soul if you leave me now. Let me find my lost home at
last: let me rest a little while before I die!"

His weak and gasping breath warned her; she stilled his hands, the low
lids hiding the anguish in her eyes.

So there was a way out of it all, easy, luxurious, convenient for the
passions! And there was a straight Basin way, a high promise before
God and man, that, to the Basin sense, there was no taking back: Vesty
could not see upon any other road; she shuddered.

But Notely's wasted, broken lif