“No, I know,” returned Viola in a very tender tone; “I should not for that alone.  You are always most good.  It is not that only.  There are other reasons why I would rather be away from you until we can live together again as we have done.”

“And you propose to go away, and suggest my living with another woman till you come back?” I said incredulously; dismay and apprehension and anger all struggling together within me for expression.

“Would it be more reasonable of me to expect to leave you and you to wait absolutely faithful to me till I came back?” she asked, looking at me with a slow, sad smile, the saddest look I had ever seen, I thought, on a woman’s face.  I bent forwards and seized both little hands in mine and kissed them many times over.

“Of the two I would rather you did that.  Yes,” I said passionately.  “But there is no question of your going away; whatever happens, we’ll stick to each other.  If you want rest you shall have it; if you are ill I will nurse you and take care of you; but I shan’t allow you to go away from me.”

She put her arms round my neck.  “Dear Trevor, if you would trust me just this once, and let me go, it would be so much better.”

“No, I cannot consent to such an arrangement,” I answered; “it’s absurd.  I can’t think what you have in your own mind, but I know nothing would be a greater mistake than what you propose.  The chances are we should never come together again.”

There was silence for a moment, broken only by a heavy sigh from Viola.

“Won’t you tell me everything you have in your own mind?” I said persuasively.  “I thought we never made mysteries with one another; it seems to me you are acting just like a person in an old-fashioned book.  You can tell me anything, say anything you like, nothing will alter my love for you, except deception—­that might.”

“And you seem to think separation might,” returned Viola sadly.

“I don’t think it’s a question of separation altering my love for you, but in separation sometimes things happen which prevent a reunion.”

Viola was silent.

“Do tell me,” I urged.  “Tell me what you have in your mind.  Why has this cloud come up between us?”

“You see,” Viola said very gently, “there are some things, if you tell a man, he is obliged to say and do certain things in return.  If you take the matter in your own hands you can do better for him than he can do for himself.”

“It is something for me then?” I said smiling.  “I am to gain by your leaving me for a year?”

“Yes, I think so,” she answered doubtfully.  “But principally it is for myself.  I know there is a great risk in going away, but I think a greater one if I stay.”

I was silent, wondering what it could possibly be that she would not tell me.  Although she said she had formed the idea before Suzee’s letter came, I kept returning to that in my thoughts as the main reason that must be influencing her.