‘Only this, James--that you must not torture yourself unnecessarily. Remember there are others who love you--myself--your darling boy. If Madeline has left you, it is of her own freewill. I am not surprised that you have not found her; she doubtless provided well against that. She wished to leave you! Don’t forget that!’ ‘Why should she wish it?’ he groaned. ‘Why do other wives leave their husbands? They _do_ leave them, every day.’ There was something in her tone so significant, so ominous, that he could not misconceive her. He sprang up as if stung and faced her. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I never thought Madeline quite happy in this house. I never thought she loved you as you deserved. If she is unworthy to bear your name----’ ‘She is not unworthy! I will never believe it. I will not hear one word against her, even from you. Do you hear? not one word! I know you never cared for her, never treated her like a sister, and now you would poison my soul against her. I tell you I will not listen to you--never, never!’ Margaret Forster felt not a little indignant; her brow darkened, and the sympathetic dimness passed away from her cold grey eyes; but being truly mistress of the situation, she could afford to be, and was, magnanimous. ‘You are very unjust to me,’ she said, ‘but I shall think it is your trouble that speaks, and not yourself I have never been unkind to Madeline; on the contrary, I have treated her with the greatest affection and respect. If I have sometimes thought that she was scarcely conscious of the duties of a lady in her position, I have always silenced myself with the reflection that she was your choice. Yes, James, always No matter what I have feared, what I have seen, I have been silent for your sake.’ ‘In the name of God,’ said Forster, impatiently, ‘cease to torture me. If you know anything to relieve my suspense, speak out. If not, leave me, leave me!’ As he spoke he sank again into his chair, hiding his face in his hands. She watched him for some moments in silence, sighing heavily and occasionally wiping her eyes, for she was genuinely affected; but with the firmness of a skilled surgeon, who sympathises with the patient whom it is impossible to spare, since a cruel operation is imperative, she at length spoke again. ‘You will hear sad truths sooner or later, James; it is better that you should hear them first from me. I want you to understand, once for all, that it is useless to waste your strength, to break your heart, over what is irrecoverable.’ ‘Do you mean Madeline? I tell you I will find her. If I search the whole world I will find her.’ ‘And if you do, what then?’ ‘I will pray to her on my knees to return.’ ‘Whether she is worthy or unworthy?’ ‘Margaret, take care! I won’t hear one whisper against her.’ Margaret’s lips tightened, and her surgical manner increased.