Towards the end of the summer, hearing no more from Bruce, Aylmer grew still more hopeful; he began to regard it as practically settled. The next letter in answer to Edith's would doubtless convince her, and he would then persuade her; it was, tacitly, he thought, almost agreed now; it was not spoken of between them, but he believed it was all right.... * * * * * Aylmer had come back to London in the early days of September and was wandering through his house thinking how he would have it done up and how he wouldn't leave it when they were married, when a telephone message summoned him to Knightsbridge. He went, and found the elder Mrs Ottley just going away. He thought she looked at him rather strangely. 'I think Edith wants to speak to you,' she said, as she left the room. 'Dear Edith! Be nice to her.' And she fled. * * * * * Aylmer waited alone, looking round the room that he loved because he associated it with her. It was one of the first cold damp days of the autumn, and there was a fire. Edith came in, in a dark dress, looking pale, and different, he thought. She had seemed the very spirit of summer only a day or two before. A chill presentiment struck to his heart. 'You've had a letter? Go on; don't keep me in suspense.' He spoke with nervous impatience, and no self-restraint. She sat down by him. She had no wish to create an effect, but she found it difficult to speak. 'Yes, I've had a letter,' she said quietly. 'They've quarrelled. They quarrelled on board. He hates her. He says he would rather die than remain with her. He's written me a rather nice letter. They quarrelled so frightfully that a young man on board interfered,' she said, smiling faintly. 'As soon as they arrived the young man married her. He's a commercial traveller. He's only twenty-five.... It seems he pitied her so much that he proposed to her on board, and she left Bruce. It wasn't true about the predicament. It was--a mistake. Bruce was grateful for my letter. He's glad I've not told anyone--not done anything. Now the children will never know. But I've told Mrs Ottley all about it. I thought I'd better, now it's over. She won't ask him questions.... Bruce is on his way home.' 'All right!' said Aylmer, getting up. 'Let him come. Forgive him again, that's right! Would you have done that for _me_?' 'No! Never! If you had once been unfaithful, and I knew it, I'd never have forgiven you.' 'I quite believe it. But why?' 'Because I care for you too much. If you had been in Bruce's position I should never have seen you again. With him it's different. It's a feeling of--it's for him, not for me. I've felt no jealousy, no passion, so I could judge calmly.'