"What did you do after lunch?" I at last inquired, returning to my charge. "I went shopping," she replied, smiling. "With whom?" "Alone." "Were you alone the whole time?" I inquired, regarding her intently. Her lips quivered slightly and her glance wavered. "Yes," she answered, "I did not meet anyone I knew." "That is a lie, Ella!" I cried. "It is not," she stammered, pale and agitated. "I have told you the truth." "To prevaricate is utterly useless," I said angrily. "I followed you through Kensington Gardens, where you were walking with your lover. I--" "My lover?" she cried hoarsely, in dismay. "He--he is not my lover. I had never seen him before!" "Then by your own admission you have abandoned all respect for me and yourself. You are addicted to strolling alone with any idiot who flatters you." "I swear I do not," she retorted. "You misjudge me entirely." And she placed her trembling hand upon my arm. But I shook it off wrathfully, saying, "I have discovered the truth, alas! too late. While making pretence to love me you prefer the society of other men. I was a blind fool, or I should have discovered the fact, plain to everybody else, that Ogle was your lover, and that you mourned for him when he met the fate he so justly deserved." "He never uttered one word of love to me, Geoffrey," she protested. "How can you make such horrible charges against me when I love you so dearly," she cried, bursting into a torrent of tears. "Because!" I said, with emphasis, "because I have myself followed you this evening. Surely Kensington Gardens is not the spot where a wife should take recreation, unless clandestinely, as you have done! No, this is not the first occasion you have lied to me, Ella; but it shall be the last." "The last!" she gasped, glancing up at me. "What do you mean?" "I mean that I can have no further confidence in you, and that we are better apart." "You don't intend to leave me. Surely you would never be so cruel, Geoffrey. It would kill me." "I have loved you, Ella," I said hoarsely, after a pause, brief and full of suspense. "No man could have loved a woman with a passion more tender than I have done, but now that I have discovered how basely I have been deceived, my affection has turned to hatred." "You hate me!" she wailed. "Ah, no, you cannot--you shall not," she cried, as, rushing towards me, she threw both arms around my neck, and, notwithstanding my efforts to avert her, pressed her tear-stained face to mine. Roughly I unclasped her arms and cast her from me, saying,-- "I have resolved. Nothing will cause me to reconsider my decision. We must part." "It is not like you, Geoffrey, to be cruel to a woman," she said reproachfully, standing before me. "I admit I have acted foolishly, but that man you saw was not my lover. I care for no one except your own dear self."