“Which I cannot now do, which I can never again entirely do. The woman who could practice upon me as you have done this evening, can never more be fully trusted! Still, if you can satisfactorily account for your strange conduct, we may yet go on together with some measure of mutual regard and comfort; which is, I suppose, all that, after the novelty of the honeymoon is past, ordinarily falls to the lot of married people. The glamour, dotage, infatuation, that deceived us into believing that our wedded love was something richer, rarer, diviner than that of other mortals like us, is forever gone! And the utmost that I venture to hope now, Mrs. Helmstedt, is that your speedy explanation may prove that, with this mystery, you have not brought dishonor on the family you have entered.” “Dishonor!” cried Marguerite, dropping her hands, that until now had covered her face, and gazing wildly at her husband. “Aye, madam, dishonor!” “Great Heaven! had another but yourself made that charge!” she exclaimed, in a voice deep and smothered with intense emotion. “The deception of which you stand convicted is in itself dishonor, and no very great way from deeper dishonor! You need not look so shocked, madam, (though that may be acting also.) Come, exculpate yourself!” he said, fiercely, giving vent to the storm of jealous fury that had been gathering for hours in his breast. But his wife gazed upon him with the look of one thunder-stricken, as she replied: “Oh, doubtless, Mr. Helmstedt, you have the right to do what you will with your own, even to the extremity of thus degrading her.” “No sarcasms, if you please, madam; they ill become your present ambiguous position. Rather clear yourself. Come, do it; for if I find that you have brought shame----” “Philip!” Without regarding her indignant interruption, he went on: “Upon the honorable name you bear--by the living Lord that hears me! I will take justice in my own hands and--kill you!” She had continued to gaze upon him with her great, dark eyes, standing forth like burning stars until the last terrible words fell from his lips--when, dropping her eyelids, her face relaxed into a most dubious and mournful smile, as she said: “That were an easier feat than you imagine, Philip. The heart burns too fiercely in this breast to burn long. Your words add fuel to the flame. But in this implied charge upon your wife, the injustice that you do her, is nothing compared to the great wrong you inflict upon your own honor.” “Once more--will you clear yourself before me?” “No.” “What! ‘No?’” “No! Alas! why multiply words, when all is contained in that monosyllable?” “What is the meaning of this, madam?”