oop at his feet and clean his shoes for
him, and think it no disgrace!"

"Oh, Cora, my friend, do not say such words as those! Remember what
you owe your husband and yourself, and come away."

"I do know what I owe him, and I will pay it him. Alice, if I had a
child I think I would be true to him. Think! I know I would;--though
I had no hour of happiness left to me in my life. But what now is the
only honest thing that I can do? Why, leave him;--so leave him that
he may have another wife and be the father of a child. What injury
shall I do him by leaving him? He does not love me; you know yourself
that he does not love me."

"I know that he does."

"Alice, that is untrue. He does not; and you have seen clearly that
it is so. It may be that he can love no woman. But another woman
would give him a son, and he would be happy. I tell you that every
day and every night,--every hour of every day and of every night,--I
am thinking of the man I love. I have nothing else to think of. I
have no occupation,--no friends,--no one to whom I care to say a
word. But I am always talking to Burgo in my thoughts; and he listens
to me. I dream that his arm is round me--"

"Oh, Glencora!"

"Well!--Do you begrudge me that I should tell you the truth? You have
said that you would be my friend, and you must bear the burden of my
friendship. And now,--this is what I want to tell you.--Immediately
after Christmas, we are to go to Monkshade, and he will be there.
Lady Monk is his aunt."

"You must not go. No power should take you there."

"That is easily said, child; but all the same I must go. I told Mr
Palliser that he would be there, and he said it did not signify.
He actually said that it did not signify. I wonder whether he
understands what it is for people to love each other;--whether he has
ever thought about it."

"You must tell him plainly that you will not go."

"I did. I told him plainly as words could tell him. 'Glencora,' he
said,--and you know the way he looks when he means to be lord and
master, and put on the very husband indeed,--'This is an annoyance
which you must bear and overcome. It suits me that we should go to
Monkshade, and it does not suit me that there should be any one whom
you are afraid to meet.' Could I tell him that he would lose his wife
if I did go? Could I threaten him that I would throw myself into
Burgo's arms if that opportunity were given to me? You are very wise,
and very prudent. What would y