ou?"

She saw the vivid crimson mount to the white brow, to be speedily
replaced by a pallor terrible to behold.

"My darling," she cried, in distress, "I did not expect to grieve you!"

"Why should I be grieved?" said the girl, quietly. "The duchess does not
come to see me because she acted to me very cruelly; and I never write
to her now."

Then Margaret for awhile was silent. How was she to bring forward the
subject nearest to her heart? She cast about for words in which to
express her thoughts.

"Madaline," she said, at last, "no one has a greater respect than I have
for the honor of husband and wife; I mean for the good faith and
confidence there should be between them. In days gone by I never spoke
of your poor father's faults--I never allowed any one to mention them to
me. If any of the neighbors ever tried to talk about him, I would not
allow it. So, my darling, do not consider that there is any idle
curiosity in what I am about to say to you. I thought you were so
happily married, my dear; and it is a bitter disappointment to me to
find that such is not the case."

There came no reply from Lady Arleigh; her hands were held before her
eyes.

"I am almost afraid, dearly as I love you, to ask you the question,"
Margaret continued; "but, Madaline, will you tell me why you do not live
with your husband?"

"I cannot, mother," was the brief reply.

"Is it--oh, tell me, dear!--is it any fault of yours? Have you
displeased him?"

"It is through no fault of mine, mother. He says so himself."

"Is it from any fault of his? Has he done anything to displease you?"

"No," she answered, with sudden warmth, "he has not--indeed, he could
not, I love him so."

"Then, if you have not displeased each other, and really love each
other, why are you parted in this strange fashion? It seems to me,
Madaline, that you are his wife only in name."

"You are right, mother--and I shall never be any more; but do not ask me
why--I can never tell you. The secret must live and die with me."

"Then I shall never know it, Madaline?"

"Never, mother," she answered.

"But do you know, my darling, that it is wearing your life away?"

"Yes, I know it, but I cannot alter matters. And, mother," she
continued, "if we are to be good friends and live together, you must
never mention this to me again."

"I will remember," said Margaret, kissing the thin white hands, but to
herself she said matters should not so continue. Were Lord