"Then if, as is of course possible, you and I don't meet again for years and years, am I to think of you as always going on in exactly the same way?" he asked. Some cruel devil outside himself had seemed to force him to utter the hopeless question which he had already made up his mind should be, must be, answered by Fate in the negative. They had stopped their slow pacing side by side, and he was now looking down into her sad, desolate eyes. He saw the word--the one word "Yes," form itself on her quivering lips. "Do you really mean that, Laura? Answer me truly." And then suddenly there came over Laura Pavely an extraordinary sensation. It was as if this man, whose burning eyes were fixed on her face, were willing her to say aloud something which, however true, were better left unsaid. "There will never come any change," she answered, feeling as if the words were being forced out of her, "till, as the Marriage Service says, 'death us do part.'" "Do you ever think of that possibility?" He put the probing question in a singularly detached, almost a light, tone of inquiry. But she answered very solemnly, again as if impelled to tell him the truth--a truth she had never thought to tell to any human being: "There was a time before Alice was born when I was so unhappy, largely, as I can see now, through my own fault, when I felt I could not bear it any longer, and----" Her voice dropped, and he bent down so that he might catch the almost whispered words, "I was strongly tempted to--to kill myself," she said. "I used to go and walk up and down that little path across the head of the lake, and plan out how I would do it. Even now I do not think that any one, except perhaps your mother, would ever have suspected. It would have been so easy to make it appear an absolute accident." He remained silent, and she went on, more composedly: "I had got into a selfish, morbid state, Oliver, and yet the temptation was not wholly selfish, for I knew that Godfrey was miserable too, and my sense told me that if anything happened to me he would very soon marry again--some woman who would appreciate his good qualities, who would be happy with him, who would not be, as I knew I was, a bitter disappointment." Once more her voice had become nearly inaudible, and once more Oliver bent his dark, convulsed face down to hear what she said. Tears were rolling down Laura's face. But suddenly she made an immense effort over herself, and went on, calmly: "It was your mother who helped me over that bad, foolish time. I don't know what I should have done but for Aunt Letty. I think she's the only person in the world to whom Godfrey ever listens--who can ever make any impression on him. It's strange in a way, for I know she doesn't really like either of us."