"But, Arthur," she said then, "Mrs. Greyson?"
"Well; what of Mrs. Greyson?"
"I am going to see her."
"After your last night's indignation?"
"I may have been wrong," Mrs. Fenton said bravely, "I may have been hard. I realize every day how little I am able to judge for other people. Perhaps I am narrow, as you say. At least now her husband is dead I can show her my sympathy; and since I know more of him, it does not seem so strange that she left him."
"They left each other," he responded to these contradictory words. "But what can you say? The consolations of religion will hardly be available, and Helen never pretended to love Ashton?"
His tone wounded her, but she answered without a change of countenance:
"The death of the man who has been her husband can never be indifferent to any true woman. I shall not force her to listen to any religion she does not wish to hear."
XXXII.
A SYMPATHY OF WOE.
Titus Andronicus; iii.—I.