“Oh, yes!  Gladly!  Thankfully!” replied Mrs. Dexter.  “How many, many times have I desired to open my heart to you; but dared not.  Now, if you have its secret, gained by no purposed act of mine, I will accept the aid and counsel.”

“You do not love,” said Mrs. De Lisle—­not in strong, emphatic utterance—­not even calmly—­but in a low, almost reluctant voice.

“I am capable of the deepest love,” was answered.

“I know it.”

“What then?” Mrs. Dexter spoke with some eagerness.

“You are a wife.”

“I am,” with coldness.

By your own consent?”

“It was extorted.  But no matter.  I accepted my present relation; and I mean to abide the contract.  Oh, my friend! you know not the pain I feel in thus speaking, even to you.  This is a subject over which I drew the veil of what I thought to be eternal silence.  You have pushed it aside—­not roughly, not with idle curiosity, but as a loving friend and counsellor.  And now if you can impart strength or comfort, do so; for both are needed.”

“The language of Mrs. Anthony pained me,” said Mrs. De Lisle.

“Not more than it pained me,” was the simple answer.

“And yet, Mrs. Dexter, though I observed you closely, I did not see the indignant flush on your face, that I had hoped to see mantling there.”

“It was a simple schooling of the exterior.  I felt that she was venturing on improper ground; but I did not care to let my real sentiments appear.  Mrs. Anthony lacks delicacy in some things.”

“Her remarks I regarded as an outrage.  But seriously, Mrs. Dexter, is your husband so much inclined to jealousy?”

“I am afraid so.”

“Do you think his purpose to leave Saratoga in the morning, springs from this cause?”

“I am not aware of any circumstance that should give rise to sudden apprehension in his mind.  There is no one that I have remarked as offering me particular attentions.  I am here, and cannot help the fact that gentlemen of superior taste, education, and high mental accomplishments, seem pleased with my society.  I like to meet such persons—­I enjoy the intercourse of mind with mind.  It is the only compensating life I have.  In it I forget for a little while my heart’s desolation.  In all that it is possible for me to be true to my husband, I am true; and I pray always that God will give me strength to endure even unto the end.  His fears wrong me!  There is not one of the scores of attractive men who crowd around me in public, who has the power, by look, or word, or action, to stir my heart with even the lightest throb of tender feeling.  I have locked the door, and the key is hidden.”

Mrs. De Lisle did not answer, for some time.

“Your high sense of honor, pure heart, and womanly perceptions, are guiding you right, I see!” she then remarked; “the ordeal is terrible, but you will pass through unscathed.”