After the Storm - Page 87/141

The eyes of Irene dropped slowly. There was a slight change in the

expression of her face. Her hands moved one within the other

nervously.

For ever! The words are rarely uttered without leaving on the mind a

shade of thought. For ever! They brought more than a simple shadow

to the mind of Irene. A sudden darkness fell upon her soul, and for

a little while she groped about like one who had lost her way. But

her husband's threat of consequences, his cold, imperious manner,

his assumed superiority, all acted as sharp spurs to pride, and she

stood up, strong again, in full mental stature, with every power of

her being in full force for action and endurance.

"I go." There was no sign of weakness in her voice. She had raised

her eyes from the floor and turned them full upon her husband. Her

face was not so pale as it had been a little while before. Warmth

had come back to the delicate skin, flushing it with beauty. She did

not stand before him an impersonation of anger, dislike or

rebellion. There was not a repulsive attitude or expression; no

flashing of the eyes, nor even the cold, diamond glitter seen a

little while before. Slowly turning away, she left the room; but, to

her husband, she seemed still standing there, a lovely vision. There

had fallen, in that instant of time, a sunbeam which fixed the image

upon his memory in imperishable colors. What though he parted

company here with the vital form, that effigy would be, through all

time, his inseparable companion!

"Gone!" Hartley Emerson held his breath as the word came into mental

utterance. There was a motion of regret in his heart; a wish that he

had not spoken quite so sternly--that he had kept back a part of the

hard saying. But it was too late now. He could not, after all that

had just passed between them--after she had refused to answer his

questions touching Major Willard--make any concessions. Come what

would, there was to be no retracing of steps now.

"And it may be as well," said he, rallying himself, "that we part

here. Our experiment has proved a sad failure. We grow colder and

more repellant each day, instead of drawing closer together and

becoming more lovingly assimilated. It is not good--this life--for

either of us. We struggle in our bonds and hurt each other. Better

apart! better apart! Moreover"--his face darkened--"she has fallen

into dangerous companionship, and will not be advised or governed. I

have heard her name fall lightly from lips that cannot utter a

woman's name without leaving it soiled. She is pure now--pure as

snow. I have not a shadow of suspicion, though I pressed her close.

But this contact is bad; she is breathing an impure atmosphere; she

is assorting with some who are sensual and evil-minded, though she

will not believe the truth. Mrs. Lloyd! Gracious heavens! My wife

the intimate companion of that woman! Seen with her in Broadway! A

constant visitor at my house! This, and I knew it not!"