“Fool!” muttered Bertha, under her breath. He went about with hanging head and melancholy face, telling every one the particulars of the beast’s demise, in a voice quivering with emotion. “Poor fellow!” said Miss Glover. “He has such a good heart.” Bertha could hardly repress the bitter invective that rose to her lips. If people knew the coldness with which he had met her love, the indifference he had shown to her tears and to her despair! She despised herself when she remembered the utter self-abasement of the past. “He made me drink the cup of humiliation to the very dregs.” From the height of her disdain she summed him up for the thousandth time. It was inexplicable that she had been subject to a man so paltry in mind, so despicable in character. It made her blush with shame to think how servile had been her love. Dr. Ramsay, who was visiting Bertha for some trivial ill, happened to come in when she was engaged with such thoughts. “Well,” he said, as soon as he had taken breath. “And how is Edward to-day?” “Good heavens, how should I know?” she cried, beside herself, the words slipping out unawares after the long constraint. “Hulloa, what’s this? Have the turtle-doves had a tiff at last?” “Oh, I’m sick of continually hearing Edward’s praises. I’m sick of being treated as an appendage to him.” “What’s the matter with you, Bertha?” said the doctor, bursting into a shout of laughter. “I always thought nothing pleased you more than to hear how much we all liked your husband.” “Oh, my good doctor, you must be blind or an utter fool. I thought every one knew by now that I loathe my husband.” “What?” shouted Dr. Ramsay; then thinking Bertha was unwell: “Come, come, I see you want a little medicine, my dear. You’re out of sorts, and like all women you think the world is consequently coming to an end.” Bertha sprang from the sofa. “D’you think I should speak like this if I hadn’t good cause? Don’t you think I’d conceal my humiliation if I could? Oh, I’ve hidden it long enough; now I must speak. Oh God, I can hardly help screaming with pain when I think of all I’ve suffered and hidden. I’ve never said a word to any one but you, and now I can’t help it. I tell you I loathe and abhor my husband and I utterly despise him. I can’t live with him any more, and I want to go away.” Dr. Ramsay opened his mouth and fell back in his chair; he looked at Bertha as if he expected her to have a fit. “You’re not serious?” Bertha stamped her foot impatiently. “Of course I’m serious. Do you think I’m a fool too? We’ve been miserable for years, and it can’t go on. If you knew what I’ve had to suffer when every one has congratulated me, and said how pleased they were to see me so happy. Sometimes I’ve had to dig my nails in my hands to prevent myself from crying out the truth.”