“What!”

“You are too idle.  You come here too often.  Why do you not become a barrister, or go into Parliament, or at least write books?  If Nelly can succeed as an author, surely you can.”

“I have left all that behind me.  I am a failure:  you know why.  Let us talk no more of it.”

“Do not go on like that,” said Marian, pettishly.  “I dont like it.”

“I am afraid to say or do anything, you are so easily distressed.”

“Yes, I know I am very cross.  Elinor remarked it too.  I think you might bear with me, Sholto.”  Here, most unexpectedly, she rose and burst into tears.  “When my whole life is one dreary record of misery, I cannot always be patient.  I have been forbearing toward you many times.”

Douglas was at first frightened; for he had never seen her cry before.  Then, as she sat down again, and covered her face with her handkerchief, he advanced, intending to kneel and put his arm about her; but his courage failed:  he only drew a chair to the fire, and bent over, as he sat beside her, till his face was close to hers, saying, “It is all the fault of your mad marriage.  You were happy until then.  I have been silent hitherto; but now that I see your tears, I can no longer master myself.  Listen to me, Marian.  You asked me a moment since what other life was open to you.  There is a better life.  Leave England with me; and—­and——­” Marian had raised her head; and as she looked steadily at him, he stopped, and his lips became white.

“Go on,” she said.  “I am not angry.  What else?”

“Nothing else except happiness.”  His voice died away:  there was a pause.  Then, recovering himself, he went on with something of his characteristic stateliness.  “There is no use in prolonging your present life; it is a failure, like mine.  Why should you hesitate?  You know how seldom the mere letter of duty leads to either happiness or justice.  You can rescue me from a wasted existence.  You can preserve your own heart from a horrible slow domestic decay. He will not care:  he cares for nothing:  he is morally murdering you.  You have no children to think of.  I love you; and I offer you your choice of the fairest spots in the wide world to pass our future in, with my protection to ensure your safety and comfort there, wherever it may be.  You know what a hollow thing conventional virtue is.  Who are the virtuous people about you?  Mrs. Leith Fairfax, and her like.  If you love me, you must know that you are committing a crime against nature in living as you are with a man who is as far removed from you in every human emotion as his workshop is from heaven.  You have striven to do your duty by him in vain.  He is none the happier:  we are unutterably the more miserable.  Let us try a new life.  I have lived in society here all my days, and have found its atmosphere most worthless, most selfish, most impure.  I want to be free—­to shake the dust of London off my feet, and enter on a life made holy by love.  You can respond to such an aspiration:  you, too, must yearn for a pure and free life.  It is within our reach:  you have but to stretch out your hand.  Say something to me.  Are you listening?”