The outburst astounded Theron. He laid down his knife and fork, and gazed at his wife in frank surprise. She had so accustomed him, of late, to a demeanor almost abject in its depressed docility that he had quite forgotten the Alice of the old days, when she had spirit and courage enough for two, and a notable tongue of her own. The flash in her eyes and the lines of resolution about her mouth and chin for a moment daunted him. Then he observed by a flutter of the frill at her wrist that she was trembling.
“I am sure I have nothing to ‘say out in so many words,’ as you put it,” he replied, forcing his voice into cool, impassive tones. “I merely commented upon a coincidence, that was all. If, for any reason under the sun, the subject chances to be unpleasant to you, I have no earthly desire to pursue it.”
“But I insist upon having it pursued!” returned Alice. “I’ve had just all I can stand of your insinuations and innuendoes, and it’s high time we had some plain talk. Ever since the revival, you have been dropping sly, underhand hints about Mr. Gorringe and—and me. Now I ask you what you mean by it.”
Yes, there was a shake in her voice, and he could see how her bosom heaved in a tremor of nervousness. It was easy for him to be very calm.
“It is you who introduce these astonishing suggestions, not I,” he replied coldly. “It is you who couple your name with his—somewhat to my surprise, I admit—but let me suggest that we drop the subject. You are excited just now, and you might say things that you would prefer to leave unsaid. It would surely be better for all concerned to say no more about it.”
Alice, staring across the table at him with knitted brows, emitted a sharp little snort of indignation. “Well, I never! Theron, I wouldn’t have thought it of you!”
“There are so many things you wouldn’t have thought, on such a variety of subjects,” he observed, with a show of resuming his breakfast. “But why continue? We are only angering each other.”
“Never mind that,” she replied, with more control over her speech. “I guess things have come to a pass where a little anger won’t do any harm. I have a right to insist on knowing what you mean by your insinuations.”
Theron sighed. “Why will you keep harping on the thing?” he asked wearily. “I have displayed no curiosity. I don’t ask for any explanations. I think I mentioned that the man had behaved insultingly to me—but that doesn’t matter. I don’t bring it up as a grievance. I am very well able to take care of myself. I have no wish to recur to the incident in any way. So far as I am concerned, the topic is dismissed.”
“Listen to me!” broke in Alice, with eager gravity. She hesitated, as he looked up with a nod of attention, and reflected as well as she was able among her thoughts for a minute or two. “This is what I want to say to you. Ever since we came to this hateful Octavius, you and I have been drifting apart—or no, that doesn’t express it—simply rushing away from each other. It only began last spring, and now the space between us is so wide that we are worse than complete strangers. For strangers at least don’t hate each other, and I’ve had a good many occasions lately to see that you positively do hate me—”
“What grotesque absurdity,” interposed Theron, impatiently.
“No, it isn’t absurdity; it’s gospel truth,” retorted Alice. “And—don’t interrupt me—there have been times, too, when I have had to ask myself if I wasn’t getting almost to hate you in return. I tell you this frankly.”
“Yes, you are undoubtedly frank,” commented the husband, toying with his teaspoon. “A hypercritical person might consider, almost too frank.”
Alice scanned his face closely while he spoke, and held her breath as if in expectant suspense. Her countenance clouded once more. “You don’t realize, Theron,” she said gravely; “your voice when you speak to me, your look, your manner, they have all changed. You are like another man—some man who never loved me, and doesn’t even know me, much less like me. I want to know what the end of it is to be. Up to the time of your sickness last summer, until after the Soulsbys went away, I didn’t let myself get downright discouraged. It seemed too monstrous for belief that you should go away out of my life like that. It didn’t seem possible that God could allow such a thing. It came to me that I had been lax in my Christian life, especially in my position as a minister’s wife, and that this was my punishment. I went to the altar, to intercede with Him, and to try to loose my burden at His feet. But nothing has come of it. I got no help from you.”
“Really, Alice,” broke in Theron, “I explained over and over again to you how preoccupied I was—with the book—and affairs generally.”
“I got no assistance from Heaven either,” she went on, declining the diversion he offered. “I don’t want to talk impiously, but if there is a God, he has forgotten me, his poor heartbroken handmaiden.”
“You are talking impiously, Alice,” observed her husband. “And you are doing me cruel injustice, into the bargain.”
“I only wish I were!” she replied; “I only wish to God I were!”
“Well, then, accept my complete assurance that you are—that your whole conception of me, and of what you are pleased to describe as my change toward
