Infineweatherhegenerallymanagestogetthroughthetimeprettywell；
　　butonrainydays，ofwhichwehavehadagoodmanyoflate，itisquitepainfultowitnesshisennui。Idoallcantoamusehim，butitisimpossibletogethimtofeelinterestedwhatImostliketotalkabout；while，ontheotherhand，helikestotalkaboutthingsthatcannotinterestme——oreventhatannoyme——andthesepleasehimthemostofall；forhisfavouriteamusementistositorlollbesidemeonthesofaandtellmestoriesofhisformeramours，alwaysturningupontheruinofsomeconfidinggirlorthecozeningofsomeunsuspectinghusband；andwhenIexpressmyhorrorandindignation，helaysitalltothechargeofjealousy，andlaughstillthetearsrundownhischeeks。Iusedtoflyintopassionsormeltintotearsatfirst，butseeingthathisdelightincreasedinproportiontomyangerandagitation，Ihavesinceendeavouredtosuppressmyfeelingsandreceivehisrevelationsinthesilenceofcalmcontempt；butstill，hereadstheinwardstruggleinmyface，andmisconstruesmybitternessofsoulforhisunworthinessintothepangsofwoundedjealousy；andwhenhehassufficientlydivertedhimselfwiththat，orfearsmydispleasurewillbecometooseriousforhiscomfort，betriestokissandsoothemeintosmilesagain——neverwerehiscaressessolittlewelcomeasthen！Thisisdoubleselfishness，displayedtomeandtothevictimsofhisformerlove。Therearetimeswhen，withamomentarypang——aflashofwilddismay，Iaskmyself，`Helen，whathaveyoudone？’ButIrebuketheinwardquestioner，andrepeltheobtrusivethoughtsthatcrowduponme；for，werehetentimesassensualandimpenetrabletogoodandloftythoughts，IwellknowIhaveDorighttocomplain。AndIdon’tandwon’tcomplain。Idoandwilllovehimstill；andIdonotandwillnotregretthatIhavelinkedmyfatewithhis。
　　April4th——Wehavehadadownrightquarrel。`Theparticularsareasfollows：——Arthurhadtoldme，atdifferentintervals，thewholestoryofhisintriguewithLadyF——，whichIwouldnotbelievebefore。
　　Itwassomeconsolation，however，tofindthat，inthisinstance，theladyhadbeenmoretoblamethanhe；forhewasveryyoungatthetime，andshehaddecidedlymadethefirstadvances，ifwhathesaidwastrue。I
　　hatedherforit，foritseemedasifshehadchieflycontributedtohiscorruption，andwhenhewasbeginningtotalkabouthertheotherday，Ibeggedhewouldnotmentionher，forIdetestedtheverysoundofhername，——
　　`Notbecauseyoulovedher，Arthur，mind，butbecausesheinjuredyou，anddeceivedherhusband，andwasaltogetheraveryabominablewoman，whomyououghttobeashamedtomention。’
　　Buthedefendedherbysayingthatshehadadotingoldhusband，whomitwasimpossibletolove。
　　`Thenwhydidshemarryhim？’saidI。
　　`Forhismoney，’wasthereply。
　　`Thenthatwasanothercrime，andhersolemnpromisetoloveandhonourhimwasanother，thatonlyincreasedtheenormityofthelast。’
　　`Youaretoosevereuponthepoorlady，’laughedhe。`Butnevermind，Helen，Idon’tcareforhernow；andIneverlovedanyofthemhalfasmuchasIdoyou；soyouneedn’tfeartobeforsakenlikethem。’
　　`Ifyouhadtoldmethesethingsbefore，Arthur，Inevershouldhavegivenyouthechance。’
　　`Wouldn’tyou，mydarling！’
　　`Mostcertainlynot！’
　　Helaughedincredulously。
　　`IwishIcouldconvinceyouofitnow！’criedI，startingupfrombesidehim；andforthefirsttimeinmylife，andIhopethelast，IwishedIhadnotmarriedhim。
　　`Helen，’saidhe，moregravely，`doyouknowthatifIbelievedyounow，Ishouldbeveryangry？——butthankHeavenIdon’t。Thoughyoustandtherewithyourwhitefaceandflashingeyes，lookingatmelikeaverytigress，Iknowtheheartwithinyou，perhapsatriflebetterthanyouknowityourself。’
　　Withoutanotherword，Ilefttheroom，andlockedmyselfupinmyownchamber。Inabouthalfanhour，hecametothedoor；andfirsthetriedthehandle，thenheknocked。
　　`Won’tyouletmein，Helen？’saidhe。
　　`No；youhavedispleasedme，’Ireplied，`andIdon’twanttoseeyourfaceorhearyourvoiceagaintillthemorning。’
　　Hepausedamoment，asifdumbfounderedoruncertainhowtoanswersuchaspeech，andthenturnedandwalkedaway。Thiswasonlyanhourafterdinner：Iknewhewouldfinditverydulltositalonealltheevening；
　　andthisconsiderablysoftenedmyresentment，thoughitdidnotmakemerelent。Iwasdeterminedtoshowhimthatmyheartwasnothisslave，andIcouldlivewithouthimifIchose；andIsatdownandwrotealonglettertomyaunt——ofcoursetellinghernothingofallthis。Soonafterteno’clock，Iheardhimcomeupagain；buthepassedmydoorandwentstraighttohisowndressing-room，whereheshuthimselfinforthefight。
　　Iwasratheranxioustoseehowhewouldmeetmeinthemorning，andnotalittledisappointedtobeholdhimenterthebreakfast-roomwithacarelesssmile。
　　`Areyoucrossstill，Helen？’saidhe，approachingasiftosaluteme。Icoldlyturnedtothetable，andbegantopouroutthecoffee，observingthathewasratherlate。
　　Heutteredalowwhistleandsaunteredawaytothewindow，wherehestoodforsomeminuteslookingoutuponthepleasingprospectofsullen，greyclouds，streamingrain，soakinglawn，anddripping，leaflesstrees——andmutteringexecrationsontheweather，andthensatdowntobreakfast。~etakinghiscoffee，hemuttereditwas`d——dcold。’
　　`Youshouldnothaveleftitsolong，’saidI。
　　HemadeDoanswer，andthemealwasconcludedinsilence。Itwasarelieftobothwhentheletter-bagwasbroughtin。Itcontained，uponexamination，anewspaperandoneortwolettersforhim，andacoupleoflettersforme，whichhetossedacrossthetablewithoutaremark。Onewasfrommybrother，theotherfromMilicentHargrave，whoisnowinLondonwithhermother。His，Ithink，werebusinessletters，andapparentlynotmuchtohismind，forhecrushedthemintohispocketwithsomemutteredexpletives，thatIshouldhavereprovedhimforatanyothertime。Thepaper，hesetbeforehim，andpretendedtobedeeplyabsorbedinitscontentsduringtheremainderofbreakfast，andaconsiderabletimeafter。
　　Thereadingandansweringofmyletters，andthedirectionofhouseholdconcerns，affordedmeampleemploymentforthemorning；afterlunch，Igotmydrawing，andfromdinnertillbedtime，Iread。Meanwhile，poorArthurwassadlyatalossforsomethingtoamusehimortooccupyhistime。HewantedtoappearasbusyandasunconcernedasIdid：hadtheweatheratallpermitted，hewoulddoubtlesshaveorderedhishorseandsetofftosomedistantregion——nomatterwhere——immediatelyafterbreakfast，andnotreturnedtillnight；hadtherebeenaladyanywherewithinreach，ofanyagebetweenfifteenandforty-five，hewouldhavesoughtrevengeandfoundemploymentingettingup——ortryingtogetup——adesperateflirtationwithher；butbeing，tomyprivatesatisfaction，entirelycutofffromboththesesourcesofdiversion，hissufferingsweretrulydeplorable。Benhehaddoneyawningoverhispaperandscribblingshortanswerstohisshorterletters，hespenttheremainderofthemorningandthewholeoftheafternooninfidgetingaboutfromroomtoroom，watchingtheclouds，cursingtherain，alternatelypetting，andteasing，andabusinghisdogs，sometimesloungingonthesofawithabookthathecouldnotforcehimselftoread，andveryoftenfixedlygazingatme，whenhethoughtIdidnotperceiveit，withthevainhopeofdetectingsometracesoftears，orsometokensofremorsefulanguishinmyface。ButImanagedtopreserveanundisturbed，thoughgraveserenitythroughouttheday。Iwasnotreallyangry：Ifeltforhimallthetime，andlongedtobereconciled；butI
　　determinedheshouldmakethefirstadvances，oratleastshowsomesignsofanhumbleandcontritespirit，first；for，ifIbegan，itwouldonlyministertohisself-conceit，increasehisarrogance，andquitedestroythelessonIwantedtogivehim。
　　Hemadealongstayinthedining-roomafterdinner，and，Ifear，tookanunusualquantityofwine，butnotenoughtoloosenhistongue；
　　forwhenhecameinandfoundmequietlyoccupiedwithmybook，toobusytoliftmyheadonhisentrance，hemerelymurmuredanexpressionofsuppresseddisapprobation，and，shuttingthedoorwithabang，wentandstretchedhimselfatfulllengthonthesofa，andcomposedhimselftosleep。Buthisfavouritecocker，Dash，thathadbeenlyingatmyfeet，tookthelibertyofjumpinguponhimandbeginningtolickhisface。Hestruckitoffwithasmartblow；andthepoordogsqueaked，andrancoweringbacktome。denhewokeup，abouthalfanhourafter，hecalledittohimagain；butDashonlylookedsheepishandwaggedthetipofhistail。Hecalledagain，moresharply，butDashonlyclungtheclosertome，andlickedmyhandasifimploringprotection。Enragedatthis，hismastersnatchedupaheavybookandhurleditathishead。Thepoordogsetupapiteousoutcryandrantothedoor。Ilethimout，andthenquietlytookupthebook。
　　`Givethatbooktome，’saidArthur，inverycourteoustone。I
　　gaveittohim。’
　　`Whydidyouletthedogout？’heasked。`YouknewIwantedhim。’
　　`Bywhattoken？’Ireplied；`byyourthrowingthebookathim？
　　butperhapsitwasintendedforme？’
　　`No——butIseeyou’vegotatasteofit，’saidhe，lookingatmyhand，thathadalsobeenstruck，andwasratherseverelygrazed。
　　Ireturnedtomyreading；andheendeavouredtooccupyhimselfinthesamemanner；but，inalittlewhile，afterseveralportentousyawns，hepronouncedhisbooktobe`cursedtrash，’andthrewitontothetable。Thenfollowedeightortenminutesofsilence，duringthegreaterpartofwhich，Ibelieve，hewasstaringatme。Atlasthispatiencewastiredout。
　　`Whatisthatbook，Helen？’heexclaimed。
　　Itoldhim。
　　`Isitinteresting？’
　　`Yes，very。’
　　`Humph！’
　　Iwentonreading——orpretendingtoread，atleast——Icannotsaytherewasmuchcommunicationbetweenmyeyesandmybrain；for，whiletheformerranoverthepages，thelatterwasearnestlywonderingwhenArthurwouldspeaknext，andwhathewouldsay，andwhatIshouldanswer。ButhedidnotspeakagaintillIrosetomakethetea，andthenitwasonlytosayheshouldnottakeany。Hecontinuedloungingonthesofa。andalternatelyclosinghiseyesandlookingathiswatchandatme，tillbedtime，whenIrose，andtookmycandleandretired。
　　`Helen！’criedhe，themomentIhadlefttheroom。Iturnedback，andstoodawaitinghiscommands。
　　`Whatdoyouwant，Arthur？’Isaid，atlength。
　　`Nothing，’repliedhe。`Go！’
　　Iwent，buthearinghimmuttersomethingasIwasclosingthedoor，Iturnedagain。Itsoundedverylike`confoundedslut，’butIwasquitewillingitshouldbesomethingelse。
　　`Wereyouspeaking，Arthur？’Iasked。
　　`No，’wastheanswer；andIshutthedoomanddeparted。Isawnothingmoreofhimtillthefollowingmorningatbreakfast，whenhecamedownafullhouraftertheusualtime。
　　`You’reverylate，’wasmymorning’ssalutation。
　　`Youneedn’thavewaitedforme，’washis；andhewalkeduptothewindowagain。Itwasjustsuchweatherasyesterday。
　　`Oh，thisconfoundedrain！’hemuttered。Butafterstudiouslyregardingitforaminuteortwo，abrightideaseemedtostrikehim，forhesuddenlyexclaimed，`ButIknowwhatI’lldo！’andthenreturnedandtookhisseatatthetable。Theletter。bagwasalreadythere，waitingtobeopened。Heunlockeditandexaminedthecontents，butsaidnothingaboutthem。
　　`Is，thereanythingforme？’Iasked。
　　`No。’Heopenedthenewspaperandbegantoread。
　　`You’dbettertakeyourcoffee，’suggestedI；`itwillbecoldagain。’
　　`Youmaygo，’saidhe，`ifyou’vedone。Idon’twantyou。’
　　Irose，andwithdrewtothenextroom，wonderingifweweretohaveanothersuchmiserabledayasyesterday，andwishingintenselyforanendofthesemutuallyinflictedtorments。Shortlyafter，Iheardhimringthebellandgivesomeordersabouthiswardrobethatsoundedasifhemeditatedalongjourney。Hethensentforthecoachman，andIheardsomethingaboutthecarriageandthehorses，andLondon，andseveno’clockto-morrowmorning，thatstartledanddisturbedmenotalittle。
　　`ImustnotlethimgotoLondon，whatevercomesofit，’saidItomyself：`hewillrunintoallkindsofmischief，andIshallbethecauseofit。Butthequestionis，howamItoalterhispurpose？——Well，Iwillwaitawhile，andseeifhementionsit。’
　　Iwaitedmostanxiously，fromhourtohour；butnotawordwasspoken，onthatoranyothersubject，tome。Hewhistled，andtalkedtohisdogs，andwanderedfromroomtoroom，muchthesameasonthepreviousday。AtlastIbegantothinkImustintroducethesubjectmyself，andwasponderinghowtobringitabout，whenJohnunwittinglycametomyreliefwiththefollowingmessagefromthecoachman：——
　　`Please，sir，Richardsaveoneofthehorseshasgotaverybadcold，andhethinks，sir，ifyoucouldmakeitconvenienttogothedayafterto-morrow，insteadofto-morrow，hecouldphysicittodaysoas——’
　　`Confoundhisimpudence！’interjectedthemaster。
　　`Please，sir，hesaysitwouldbeadealbetterifyoucould，’
　　persistedJohn，`forhehopesthere’llbeachangeintheweathershortly，andhesaysit’snotlikely，whenahorseissobadwithacold，andphysickedandall——’