dically. It
was her husband's portrait which she held, and it was his face, aroused
and full of denunciation, which she evidently saw in her fancy as I drew
nearer her in my efforts to attract her attention; for a shiver suddenly
contracted her lovely features and she threw her arms out as if to ward
from herself something which she had no power to meet. In doing this her
head turned slightly and she saw me.

Instantly the spell under which she sat frozen yielded to a recognition
of something besides her own terrible brooding. She let her arms drop,
and the lips which had not spoken that morning moved slightly. I waited
respectfully. I saw that in another moment she would speak.

"You have come," she panted out at last, "to hear my decision. It is too
soon. The steamer has twenty-four hours yet before it can make port. I
have not finished weighing my life against the good opinion of him I
live for." Then faintly--"Mrs. Carew has gone."

"To New York," I finished.

"No farther than that?" she asked anxiously. "She has not sailed?"

"I did not see how it was compatible with my duty to let her."

Mrs. Ocumpaugh's whole form collapsed; the dangerous apathy was creeping
over her again. "You are deciding for me,"--she spoke very faintly--"you
and Doctor Pool."

Should I tell her that Doctor Pool was dead? No, not yet. I wanted her
to choose the noble course for Mr. Ocumpaugh's sake--yes, and for her
own.

"No," I ventured to rejoin. "You are the only one who can settle your
own fate. The word must come from you. I am only trying to make it
possible for you to meet your husband without any additional wrong to
blunt his possible forgiveness."

"Oh, he will never forgive--and I have lost all."

And the set look returned in its full force.

I made my final attempt.

"Mrs. Ocumpaugh, we may never have another moment together in
confidence. There is one thing I have never told you, something which I
think you ought to know, as it may affect your whole future course. It
concerns Gwendolen's real mother. You say you do not know her."

"No, no; do not bring up that. I do not want to know her. My darling is
happy with Mrs. Carew--too happy. O God! Give me no opportunity for
disturbing that contentment. Don't you see that I am consumed with
jealousy? That I might--"

She was roused enough now, cheek and lip and brow were red; even her
eyes looked blood-shot. Alarmed, I put out my hand in a soothing
gesture, and when he