She could earn her own living.  Perhaps she could get back the same position at the hotel, and if Fanny and Jim would have her, she could go and live with them.  It would mean the sacrifice of many luxuries and much pride, but at least she would be able to lift up her head and look all decent people squarely in the face again.  She would give him back all his jewels—­every one.  Much as she loved them, she would return them all—­the diamond sunburst, the pearl necklace, the ruby cross—­everything.  They were the things he had bought her with.  Hadn’t he said so?  Maybe it was true that she had married him only for his money.  Well, if it was true, this was her punishment, the cross she must carry for her wickedness, and it was also why she must leave him.  She would never give him another opportunity to accuse her of having bartered away her self-respect.

What should she say to him at breakfast?  No doubt he would be very penitent and full of apologies.  No matter what he might say, her mind was made up.  She would listen in silence, and, breakfast over, begin to make her preparations for departure.  Fanny, of course, must be told everything, but not yet.  There was plenty of time to tell her.  The rupture would interfere, no doubt, with Jimmie’s prospects, but it could not be helped.  She could not be expected to go on suffering for their sake.  They must all try and get along without the assistance of the rich Mr. Stafford.  He would respect them the more if they did.

Everything occurred just as she had foreseen.  Stafford woke with a terrific headache and thoroughly ashamed of himself.  He had no distinct remembrance of the happenings of the evening before, but that he was drunk and had made a fool of himself he was pretty well sure.  If he had not been, Virginia’s cold demeanor would have soon enlightened him.  At the breakfast table he mumbled an apology and tried to awaken some sympathy for his headache.  But his wife paid no attention and beyond the merest commonplaces, made no attempt at conversation whatever and the meal ended as it began, in icy silence.

After breakfast she went to her room and, ringing for Josephine, ordered her to get out her blue cloth walking suit.  The maid opened wide her eyes in surprise.  Her mistress did not usually go walking so early.

“Madame va se promener de si bonne heure?”

“Don’t ask questions, Josephine,” replied her mistress sharply.  “Do as I tell you.  I’m going out of town.  Pack my two trunks at once.”

“Oui, Madame.”

While the girl hurried to carry out her instructions, Virginia went to her safe, opened it, and, taking out the jewel cases one by one, carried them into the library, where she piled them high on the table.  Soon there was quite a large heap of dainty boxes of every shape and color, each bearing the trademark of a fashionable jeweller.  For a full hour the young wife worked steadily, packing and dressing, until at last nothing more remained to be done.