Nell held her breath. Had her sacrifice been in vain? Had he got an
inkling of the truth? But he went on sternly and in a low voice: "If there were any reason for my suspicions, it is evident that he
transferred his affections to you. It is a terrible thing to say,
but--but I feel as if--as if--your presence here had averted a dreadful
catastrophe from us. Yes; that letter might have been meant for my wife,
and I might have found her here instead of you. Do not think it
heartless of me if I say that, deeply as I sympathize with you and
grieve for your--your trouble, I am relieved--relieved of an awful
apprehension on--on Lady Wolfer's account. I have suffered a great deal
during the past few months."

"Yes," said Nell, forgetting her own misery in sympathy for him.

He looked at her quickly.

"You have noticed it?"

Nell inclined her head.

"I have lived in the house--I have seen----" she faltered.

He nodded once or twice.

"Yes; I suppose that you could not help seeing that there has been a--a
gulf between us; that we are not as other, happier, husbands and wives."

He sighed, and passed his hand across his brow wearily.

"But we are not the only couple who, living in the same house, are
asunder. I am not the only man who has to endure, secretly and with a
smiling face, the fact that his wife does not care for him."