In the many years he had known and loved Pearl he had never seen her weep before. No, not even that time years ago, when she had bared her arm and shown him the bruises caused by her husband's blow. As he watched her now in bitter silence, he perceived perhaps for the first time, the terrible struggle between right and wrong that he had aroused, and a hitherto unknown feeling of utter contempt, complete abhorrence of self welled up within him. He knew now that he had conquered in the fight, that he had but to take her within his arms and she would be his, body and soul--his for ever. But the certainty of this knowledge brought him no triumph, no joy. For once he saw himself as he was, and the inequality of the contest, the self-acknowledged cowardice of his present conduct, brought a flush of humiliation and of shame to his cheeks. He stood for a moment hesitating as he watched the quivering form and listened to the stifled sobs. He took one step towards her. He gently touched her hair. Then he paused, and with a parting glance revealing both grief and remorse, without a word he turned and fled.
And Pearl, lying there with her head buried in the cushions, heard the door close, the retreating footsteps, and the noise of the carriage driving away, and then, but only then, she understood that she had banished him for all eternity. She rushed to the open window, and cried to him in a voice sharp with agony; but the occupant of the carriage was far beyond the sound of her call, and once more she threw herself on the sofa and hid her face in her hands.
"What have I done?" she cried aloud. "I have sent him away--I have sent him away. Oh! what made me do it? How could I do this thing? What do I care for duty and honour? And his wife--what is she to me? What right had she to exact such a promise from me? Why should I be her friend? She is my enemy, not my friend. And her husband, my love, my only love, I have sent away, I have sent away."
Thus Pearl raved while the night closed in upon her. And yet that evening as she knelt by her bedside this prayer was uttered in all sincerity from the depths of her heart:--
"Oh God," she prayed, "keep him away from me, for I am very weak and he is strong. Keep him from me--keep him from me."
For two days, morning, noon, and night, that prayer was offered up to the throne of Heaven. The third day and the fourth it passed her lips haltingly but once. The fifth, sixth, and seventh days it was uttered no more.
Hardly a week had gone by, when one morning, with a racking head and trembling fingers, Pearl sat herself down by her writing table. She did not hesitate as she took the pen and wrote these words:--
"My heart's darling:
"I know now what I have done. I have sent you away. You whom I love and have ever loved. Come back to me. Come to me after dinner to-night, and I will teach you what a woman's sacrifice, a woman's love can be."
"Pearl."