Heaven help them both--what could he say? He looked
with dumb, passionate sorrow into her fair loving face.

"You must not think it unwomanly in me to come," she said. "I am you
wife--there is no harm in my coming. If I were not your wife, I would
sooner have drowned myself than return after you had sent me away."

Her face was suffused with a crimson blush.

"Norman," she said gently, "sit down here by my side, and I will tell
you why I have come."

They sat down side by side on the beach. There was only the wide blue
sky above, only the wide waste of restless waters at their feet, only a
circling sea-gull near--no human being to watch the tragedy of love and
pride played out by the sea Waves.

"I have come," she said, "to make one more appeal to you, Norman--to ask
you to change this stern determination which is ruining your life and
mine--to ask you to take me back to your home and your heart. For I have
been thinking, dear, and I do not see that the obstacle is such as you
seem to imagine. It was a terrible wrong, a great disgrace--it was a
cruel deception, a fatal mistake; but, after all, it might be
overlooked. Moreover, Norman, when you made me your wife, did you not
promise to love and to cherish, to protect me and make me happy until I
died?"

"Yes," he replied, briefly.

"Then how are you keeping that promise--a promise made in the sight of
Heaven?"

Lord Arleigh looked down at the fair, pure face, a strange light
glowing in his own.

"My dear Madaline," he said, "you must not overlook what the honor of my
race demands. I have my own ideas of what is due to my ancestors; and I
cannot think that I have sinned by broken vows. I vowed to love you--so
I do, my darling, ten thousand times better than anything else on earth.
I vowed to be true and faithful to you--so I am, for I would not ever
look at another woman's face. I vowed to protect you and to shield
you--so I do, my darling; I have surrounded you with luxury and ease."

What could she reply--what urge or plead?

"So, in the eyes of Heaven, my wife, I cannot think I am wronging you."

"Then," she said, humbly, "my coming here, my pleading, is in vain."

"Not in vain, my darling. Even the sight of you for a few minutes has
been like a glimpse of Elysium."

"And I must return," she said, "as I came--with my love thrown back, my
prayers unanswered, my sorrow redoubled."

She hid her face in her hands and wept aloud. Presently she bent
forwar