e letters from his people which he brought
me this morning. It's awful!--how they take me at his valuation--just
because he loves me. I must be everything that's good, because he says
so. And you can see what kind of people they are--what they think of
him--and what they imagine about me--what they think I _must_ be--for
him to love me. I don't mean they're prigs--they aren't a bit. It's just
their life coming out, quite naturally. You see what they are--quite
simply--what they can't help being, and what they expect from him and the
woman he marries. And he's got to take me home to them--some time--to
present me to them. The divorce is difficult enough. Even if they think
of me as quite innocent, it will be hard for them, that George should
marry a divorced woman."

"What have they to do with it?" interrupted Janet. "It's only George that
matters--no other person has any right whatever to know! You needn't
consider anybody else."

"Yes--but think of _him_. It's bad enough that I should know something he
doesn't know--but at least _he's_ spared. He can take me home to his
mother--whom he adores--and if _I_ know that I'm a cheat and a sham--he
doesn't--it will be all easy for him."

Janet was silenced for the moment by the sheer passion of the voice. She
sat, groping a little, under the stress of her own thought, and praying
inwardly--without words--for light and guidance.

"And think of _me_, please!" Rachel went on. "If I tell him, it's
done--for ever. He'll forgive me, I think. He may be everything
that's dear, and good, and kind"--her voice broke--"but it'd hit him
dreadfully hard. A man like that can't forget such a thing. When I've
once said it, I shall have changed everything between us. He must
think--some time--when he's alone--when I'm not there--'It was Dick
Tanner once--it will be some one else another time!' I shall have been
pulled down from the place where he puts me now--even after he knows
all about Roger and the divorce--pulled down for good and all--however
much he may pity me--however good he may be to me. It will be love
perhaps--but another kind of love. He can't trust me again. No one could.
And it's that I can't bear--I can't _bear_!"

She looked defiantly at Janet, and the little room with its simple
furnishings seemed too small a stage for such an energy of fear and
distress.

"Yes--that you could bear," said Janet quietly, "with him to help
you--and God. It would all straighten out in the