he asked was to see her happy.... But it was not true, and
his manhood revolted from the deception. Besides, its effect would be
only temporary--would wear no better than her vain efforts to simulate
an interest in his work. Between them, forever, were the insurmountable
barriers of character, of education, of habit--and yet it was not in him
to believe that any barrier was insurmountable.

"Bessy," he exclaimed, following her, "don't let us part in this
way----"

She paused with her hand on her dressing-room door. "It is time to dress
for church," she objected, turning to glance at the little gilt clock on
the chimney-piece.

"For church?" Amherst stared, wondering that at such a crisis she should
have remained detached enough to take note of the hour.

"You forget," she replied, with an air of gentle reproof, "that before
we married I was in the habit of going to church every Sunday."

"Yes--to be sure. Would you not like me to go with you?" he rejoined
gently, as if roused to the consciousness of another omission in the
long list of his social shortcomings; for church-going, at Lynbrook, had
always struck him as a purely social observance.

But Bessy had opened the door of her dressing-room. "I much prefer that
you should do what you like," she said as she passed from the room.

Amherst made no farther attempt to detain her, and the door closed on
her as though it were closing on a chapter in their lives.

"That's the end of it!" he murmured, picking up the letter-opener she
had been playing with, and twirling it absently in his fingers. But
nothing in life ever ends, and the next moment a new question confronted
him--how was the next chapter to open?

BOOK III

XIX

IT was late in October when Amherst returned to Lynbrook.

He had begun to learn, in the interval, the lesson most difficult to his
direct and trenchant nature: that compromise is the law of married life.
On the afternoon of his talk with his wife he had sought her out,
determined to make a final effort to clear up the situation between
them; but he learned that, immediately after luncheon, she had gone off
in the motor with Mrs. Carbury and two men of the party, leaving word
that they would probably not be back till evening. It cost Amherst a
struggle, when he had humbled himself to receive this information from
the butler, not to pack his portmanteau and take the first train for
Hanaford; but he was still under the influenc