He was trying to persuade himself that nothing of much moment had come to pass. A doubt troubled him; most likely it would trouble him for the rest of his life; but he must heed it as little as possible. What other course was open to a sensible man? To rave and swear in the high tragic style would avail nothing, one way or the other; and the fact was--whatever its explanation--that he felt no prompting to such violence. Two years had passed; the man was dead; Alma had changed greatly, and was looking to new life in new conditions. His worst uneasiness arose from the hysteria which had so alarmingly declared itself this evening. He thought of Bennet Frothingham, and at length rose from his chair, meaning to go upstairs. But just then a step sounded in the hall; his door was pushed open, and Alma showed herself. 'May I come?' she asked, looking at him steadily He beckoned with his head. She closed the door, and came slowly forward, stopping at a few paces from him. 'Harvey----' 'Well?' 'I want you to decide tonight. If you think it would be better for both of us, let me go. I shouldn't part from you unkindly; I don't mean that. I should ask you to let me have money as long as I needed it. But you know that I could support myself very soon. If you think it better, do say so, and we'll talk about it as friends.' 'I don't think anything of the kind. I shouldn't let you go, say what you might.' 'You wouldn't? But if you find that you _can't_ believe me----' 'It would make no difference, even that. But I do believe you.' She drew nearer, looking wistfully into his face. 'But _she_ has made her husband believe her. You will always think of that--always.' 'You must remember, Alma, that I have no serious reason for doubting her word.' She uttered a cry of distress. 'Then you doubt mine!--you doubt mine!' 'Nonsense, dear. Do try to think and talk more reasonably. What is it to you and me whether she was guilty or not? I may doubt your judgment about her, and yet believe perfectly all you tell me about yourself.' 'Then you think I have slandered her?' 'There's no earthly use in talking about it. You can give no reasons; you _have_ no reasons. Your suspicion may be right or wrong; I don't care the toss of a button. All I know is, that we mustn't talk of it. Sit down and be quiet for a little. Oughtn't you to eat something before you go up?' Alma put her hands upon his shoulders, bending her face so as to hide it from him. 'Dear--if you could just say that you believe me; not about myself--I know you do--but about _her_. Could you say that?' He hesitated, all a man's common-sense in revolt against the entreaty; but he saw her quiver with a sob, and yielded. 'Very well, I will believe that too.' Her touch became an embrace, gentle and timid; she threw her head back, gazing at him in rapture. 'You will never again doubt it?' 'Never again.'