That cruel insult struck the warm fountain of tears, too oft repressed by the proud, loving young wife. Her face dropped in her hands, bright tears falling through her fingers; her voice came to him mournfully earnest through its repressed sobs and moans: "Because, oh! because I wanted to see _you_, Paul, so much--oh, so much!--that I felt I could brave your blame--dare all your anger, but to look on your dear face once more! I hoped you would not see me. I did not know you could be so cruel and unjust to me, or I would have fought harder against the temptation to come." Moving toward her, he half opened his arms, then dropped them again at his sides, with something like a moan. "Oh, God, if I could only believe you!" "And do you not?" she asked, slowly. "I cannot. The miserable doubt that you have never loved me, the fear that your marriage with me arose from selfish considerations while your heart was in the keeping of one who valued it so little then, however much he may now--Gracie, with all these torturing doubts on my soul, I try to believe you, and--I cannot." "Once for all," she says, still patiently, "let me tell you, whether you credit or not, Paul, that my love for Bruce Conway compared with my love for you was as moonlight unto sunlight, or as water unto wine. He was the ideal of my silly, inexperienced girlhood--nay, childhood--he _never_ could have been the choice of my maturer years. You are all I can ask for in perfection of manliness, saving this unhappily jealous nature, and my whole heart is yours. I did not marry you for any selfish consideration, except that I loved you and wanted always to be near that strong, true, noble heart, sheltered by its warm affection. Paul, can you believe these things if I tell you so on my very knees?" He flung himself away from her with a heart-wrung sigh. "God help my jealous nature, I cannot!" "And you will leave me again after this--indefinitely--or forever?" leaning her elbow on the low marble mantel, and looking at him with a sort of wistful wonder in her tear-wet eyes. "I must. My vow is recorded--I cannot help myself--it must be fulfilled." She smiled slightly, but with something in her smile that half maddened him. The tears were quite dry on her lashes, her cheeks were pink as rose-leaves, her bosom rose and fell more calmly. The smile that played on her lips was not "all angel" now. She had sued for the last time to her unjust lord.