His wife, he suspected, was not the
woman to suffer greatly in her false position; she had very
temperate blood, and a thoroughly English devotion to the
proprieties; none the less he had done her wrong, for she belonged
to a gentle family in mediocre circumstances, and his prospective
"M.P.," his solid wealth, were sore temptations to put before such a
girl. He had known--yes, he assuredly knew--that it was nothing
but a socially sanctioned purchase. Beauty should have become to him
but the "vein of rose," to be regarded with gentle admiration and
with reverence, from afar. He yielded to an unworthy temptation,
and, being a man of unusual sensitiveness, very soon paid the
penalty in self-contempt.
He could not love his wife; he could scarce honour her--for she
too must consciously have sinned against the highest law. Her
irreproachable behaviour only saddened him. Now that he found
himself under sentence of death, his solace was the thought that his
widow would still be young enough to redeem her error--if she were
capable of redeeming it.
Alone with his guest in the large dining-room, and compelled to make
only pretence of eating and drinking, he talked of many things with
the old spontaneity, the accustomed liberal kindliness, and dropped
at length upon the subject Piers was waiting for.
"You know, I daresay, that Arnold is going to marry?"
"I have heard of it," Piers answered, with the best smile he could
command.
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