experienced now. An overpowering impatience to make the speediest
and completest atonement possessed her. Must she wait till
Herbert Linley no longer concealed that he was weary of her, and
cast her off? No! It should be her own act that parted them, and
that did it at once. She threw open the door, and hurried
half-way down the stairs before she remembered the one terrible
obstacle in her way--the Divorce.

Slowly and sadly she submitted, and went back to her room.

There was no disguising it; the two who had once been husband and
wife were parted irrevocably--by the wife's own act. Let him
repent ever so sincerely, let him be ever so ready to return,
would the woman whose faith Herbert Linley had betrayed take him
back? The Divorce, the merciless Divorce, answered:--No!

She paused, thinking of the marriage that was now a marriage no
more. The toilet-table was close to her; she looked absently at
her haggard face in the glass. What a lost wretch she saw! The
generous impulses which other women were free to feel were
forbidden luxuries to her. She was ashamed of her wickedness; she
was eager to sacrifice herself, for the good of the once-dear
friend whom she had wronged. Useless longings! Too late! too
late!

She regretted it bitterly. Why?

Comparing Mrs. Linley's prospects with hers, was there anything
to justify regret for the divorced wife? She had her sweet little
child to make her happy; she had a fortune of her own to lift her