Cecily's head was bent. He saw that her bosom heaved, but on her face there was no foreboding of tears. The strong impulse having had its way, she seemed to be recovering self command. "By the bye," he asked, "how did you know where to find me?" "I found a letter of yours lying open. Did he answer your invitation?" "Yes; he wrote a few lines saying he would come before long. But I haven't seen him. What do you intend to do when you leave me?" "Go home again and wait," she answered, with quiet sadness. "In solitude? And what assurance have you that he means to come?" "None whatever. But where else should I go, but home? My place is there, until I have heard his pleasure." It was mournfully unlike her, this bitter tone. Her eyes were fixed upon the picture again. Looking at her, Mallard was moved by something of the same indignant spirit that was still strong in her heart. Her pure and fine-wrought beauty, so subtle in expression of the soul's life, touched him with a sense of deepest pathos. It revolted him to think of her in connection with those brutalities of the newspaper; he had a movement of rebellion against the undiscerning rigour of social rule. Disinterested absolutely, but he averted his face lest she should have a suspicion of what he thought. In spite of that, he was greatly relieved to hear her purpose. He had feared other things. It was hateful that she should remain the wife of such a man as Elgar, but what refuge was open to her? The law that demands sacrifice of the noble few on behalf of the ignoble many is too swift and sure in avenging itself when defied. It was well that she had constrained herself to accept the inevitable. "You will write this evening to Mrs. Lessingham?" he said, in a tone of assuredness. "Why do you wish me to do that?" she asked, looking at him. "Because of the possibility of your still being left alone. You are not able to bear that." "Yes, I can bear anything that is necessary now," she answered firmly. "If it was weakness to come here and say what I have said, then my weakness is over. Mrs. Lessingham is enjoying herself with friends; why should I disturb her? What have I to say to her, or to any one?" "Suppose an indefinite time goes by, and you are still alone?" "In that case, I shall be able to arrange my life as other such women do. I shall find occupation, the one thing I greatly need. My gravest misfortune is, that I feel the ability to do something, but do not know what. Since the death of my child, that is what has weighed upon me most."