“Oh, she used every argument available,” was the despairing reply. “Said she loved me and was anxious to start life anew. Then she brought up the children—their futures, and what this scandal would mean to them.” “Perhaps you went about it in the wrong way. You may have been harsh when you should have been gentle,” she ventured. “I tried hard to control myself and reason with her, and I didn’t actually lose my temper until she intimated that you didn’t care about me—it was only my money.” “How dared she say that?” Geraldine sat up indignantly. “What have I ever done that has given her the right to consider me mercenary?” “It was in answer to a proposition of mine.” “What was it?” She leaned toward him anxiously. “I tried to—to bribe her,” he confessed, somewhat shamefully. “I offered to settle a—a very large amount upon her, if she would consent to free me. She jumped up excitedly and asked me what you had to say to that.” “Yes—yes—and——?” “I told her I hadn’t even discussed it with you, and then she said I should go to you and tell you what I proposed doing, and I should soon see whether or not your devotion remained the same.” “So that is her opinion of me?” Geraldine DeLacy’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Well, you can tell her from me—that I’d marry you to-morrow, Hugh Benton, if you hadn’t a dollar in the world!” “My own darling!” he exclaimed, as his arms went out and he held her close to him. “I knew it—I knew it.” She lay in his arms passively submitting to his caresses, but inwardly she boiled with rage. So Marjorie Benton thought she could spoil her game, did she! Well—they should see—they should see! The cleverest one in this case would have the last laugh. “I am so grateful for your wonderful love, dear,” he whispered, “and had Marjorie considered my proposition, I should still have plenty left with which to surround you with all the luxury you so richly deserve.” “Oh,” she breathed, “as if that mattered!” But the light in her eyes shone radiantly as a weight of lead dropped from her heart. “I shall have a talk with my attorney to-morrow, and see what he advises,” Hugh assured her. “There must be some way to go about this thing.” “Perhaps when you tell your wife that it is not your money I care about, as she seems to think, she may reconsider her decision.” “My dear, I wouldn’t allow her to think for a moment that I had even mentioned her miserable suspicions to you.” He pulled out his watch. “It is growing late and I must hurry along before Nell and Howard return. I’ll telephone you to-morrow. Good-night, dearest.” She clung to him tenderly: “You are so strong and forceful,” was her farewell, “your arms seem like a haven of refuge.” He felt that he could not bear to return home, so he ordered his chauffeur to drive to one of his clubs. Never again would he return home until he and Marjorie had reached some sort of compromise. CHAPTER XIII