For it was the woman to whom he had not spoken for long years; the woman he had wedded in his early youth, and whose existence had been a curse and a stumbling-block in his way! "You!" he said, sternly. "Why are you here?" "From a natural feeling of curiosity," answered the actress, who bore the professional name of Kathleen Weir. "I wished to see you in your new home!" And she gave a little laugh. "It is useless--" began John Temple; but with a little airy wave of her hand she interrupted him. "Pardon me," she said, "it may be very useful to us both. I have come with a purpose; a purpose which I am quite sure will be a welcome one to you; I want you to help me to get rid of you." Again she laughed, and then flung back her veil and stood looking steadily at the husband who had forsaken her. She was a handsome woman, but John Temple saw no beauty in the large, bright, restless gray eyes; in the mocking, saucy lips. "I do not understand you," he answered, coldly. "Not yet; but you will by and by. So this is your new inheritance?" she continued, looking round at the wooded park, with the fine gray old mansion standing in its midst. "My friend John, I had no idea I had made such a good match," she added, mockingly. "If you have come to talk thus, our interview must end." "What! grudge me a word or two, after these long years? Well, come, that is mean of you. But I have not come to talk nonsense, but sense. I have come, in fact, to talk business." "I suppose you want your allowance increased?" Kathleen Weir nodded. "That I certainly do," she said, "and my terms have gone up since I have seen what a fine place you have got. But it is not only about my allowance I want to talk; I want to know if we can not arrange a divorce between us?" John Temple looked at her quickly. "My bait takes, I see," went on Kathleen Weir, coolly. "Now, you can't get a divorce from me; I've been too careful for that; perhaps too cold, for a burnt child dreads the fire; or maybe I was too prudent to run the risk of losing my allowance. No, you can not get a divorce from me; now, the question is, can I get one from you?" John Temple was silent; he looked down, he moved his hands impatiently. "By the wonderful justice which the male law-givers deal out to women, I am perfectly aware that you could run away with anyone; with a dozen if you had a mind to, and I could get no redress unless you had committed some act, or acts, of cruelty, to which I could swear. Now, to be free, I am ready to swear falsely; I am ready to swear that you tore handfuls of hair out of my head, and I have a false tress or two out of which you can tear them--if you will make it worth my while." "What do you mean?" "My friend John, you are a rich man now, and I've no doubt will be ready to pay handsomely for your liberty. You wish, I suppose, to be free of me, and be able to marry someone else?"