“She's fine, I admit. But I can't see how under the circumstances any of us could have acted differently.” And Nancy not replying, I continued: “She has made up her mind to go,--I suppose I could prevent it by taking extreme measures,--but what good would it do? Isn't it, after all, the most sensible, the only way out of a situation that has become impossible? Times have changed, Nancy, and you yourself have been the first to admit it. Marriage is no longer what it was, and people are coming to look upon it more sensibly. In order to perpetuate the institution, as it was, segregation, insulation, was the only course. Men segregated their wives, women their husbands,--the only logical method of procedure, but it limited the individual. Our mothers and fathers thought it scandalous if husband or wife paid visits alone. It wasn't done. But our modern life has changed all that. A marriage, to be a marriage, should be proof against disturbing influences, should leave the individuals free; the binding element should be love, not the force of an imposed authority. You seemed to agree to all this.” “Yes, I know,” she admitted. “But I cannot think that happiness will ever grow out of unhappiness.” “But Maude will not be unhappy,” I insisted. “She will be happier, far happier, now that she has taken the step.” “Oh, I wish I thought so,” Nancy exclaimed. “Hugh, you always believe what you want to believe. And the children. How can you bear to part with them?” I was torn, I had a miserable sense of inadequacy. “I shall miss them,” I said. “I have never really appreciated them. I admit I don't deserve to have them, and I am willing to give them up for you, for Maude...” We had made one of our favourite drives among the hills on the far side of the Ashuela, and at six were back at Nancy's house. I did not go in, but walked slowly homeward up Grant Avenue. It had been a trying afternoon. I had not expected, indeed, that Nancy would have rejoiced, but her attitude, her silences, betraying, as they did, compunctions, seemed to threaten our future happiness. XXII.