The Pere Anselme did not seek to comfort her; he knew women well--she would be calmer presently, and would tell him what her sorrow was. He only murmured some words in Latin and looked out on the sea. Presently the sobs ceased and the Dame d'Heronac rose quickly and left the room; and when she had mastered her emotion, she came back again. "My father," she said, sitting on a low stool at his knees, "I have been very foolish and very wicked--but I cannot talk about it. Let us begin to read." CHAPTER XIX Meanwhile the divorce affair went on apace. There was no defence, of course, and Michael's lawyers were clever and his own influence was great. So freedom would come before the end of term probably, if not early in the New Year, and Henry felt he might begin to ask his beloved one to name a date when he could call her his own, and endeavor to take every shadow from her life. His letters all this month had been more than extra tender and devoted, each one showing that his whole desire was only for Sabine's welfare, and each one, as she read it, put a fresh stab into her heart and seemed like an extra fetter in the chain binding her to him. She knew she was really the mainspring of his life and she could not, did not, dare to face what might be the consequence of her parting from him. Besides, the die was cast and she must have the courage to go through with it. Mr. Parsons had let her know definitely that the bare fact of her name would appear in the papers, and nothing more; and at first the thought came to her that if it had made no impression upon Henry's memory, when he must have read it originally in the notice of the marriage, why should it strike him now? But this was too slender a thread to hang hope upon, and it would be wiser and better for them all if when Lord Fordyce came with Moravia and Girolamo and Mr. Cloudwater at Christmas, she told him the whole truth. The dread of this augmented day by day, until it became a nightmare and she had to use the whole force of her will to keep even an outward semblance of calm. Thoughts of Michael she dismissed as well as she could, but she had passionate longings to go and take out the blue enamel locket from her despatch-box and look at it once more; she would not permit herself to indulge in this weakness, though. Her whole days were ruled with sternest discipline until she became quite thin, and the Pere Anselme grew worried about her. A fortnight went by; it was growing near to Christmastime--but the atmosphere of Heronac contained no peace, and one bleak afternoon the old priest paced the long walk in the garden with knitted brows. He did not feel altogether sure as to what was his duty. He was always on the side of leaving things in the hand of the good God, but it might be that he would be selected to be an instrument of fate, since he seemed the only detached person with any authority in the affair.