“Passion alone can feel them,” said the other, sternly. “Keep subtleties for those who use like weapons. As for me, no casuistry is needed to tell me I am dishonored, and just as little to tell me I must be avenged! If _you_ think differently, it were better not to discuss this question further between us; but I did think I could have reckoned upon you, for I felt you had barred my first chance of a vengeance.” “Now, then, for your plan, Glencore,” said Upton, who, with all the dexterity of his calling, preferred opening a new channel in the discussion, to aggravating difficulties by a further opposition. “I must rid myself of her! There's my plan!” cried Glencore, savagely. “You have it all in that resolution. Of no avail is it that I have separated my fortune from hers, so long as she bears my name, and renders it infamous in every city of Europe. Is it to _you_, who live in the world,--who mix with men of every country,--that I need tell this? If a man cannot throw off such a shame, he must sink under it.” “But you told me you had an unconquerable aversion to the notion of seeking a divorce.” “So I had; so I have! The indelicate, the ignominious course of a trial at law, with all its shocking exposure, would be worse than a thousand deaths! To survive the suffering of all the licensed ribaldry of some gowned coward aspersing one's honor, calumniating, inventing, and, when invention failed, suggesting motives, the very thought of which in secret had driven a man to madness! To endure this--to read it--to know it went published over the wide globe, till one's shame became the gossip of millions--and then--with a verdict extorted from pity, damages awarded to repair a broken heart and a sullied name--to carry this disgrace before one's equals, to be again discussed, sifted, and cavilled at! No, Upton; this poor shattered brain would give way under such a trial; to compass it in mere fancy is already nigh to madness! It must be by other means than these that I attain my object!” The terrible energy with which he spoke actually frightened Upton, who fancied that his reason had already begun to show signs of decline. “The world has decreed,” resumed Glencore, “that in these conflicts all the shame shall be the husband's; but it shall not be so here! _She_ shall have her share, ay, and, by Heaven, not the smaller share either!” “Why, what would you do?” asked Upton, eagerly. “Deny my marriage; call her my mistress!” cried Glencore, in a voice shaken with passion and excitement. “But your boy,--your son, Glencore!”