"No," she answered, with sudden warmth, "he has not--indeed, he could not, I love him so."
"Then, if you have not displeased each other, and really love each other, why are you parted in this strange fashion? It seems to me, Madaline, that you are his wife only in name."
"You are right, mother--and I shall never be any more; but do not ask me why--I can never tell you. The secret must live and die with me."
"Then I shall never know it, Madaline?"
"Never, mother," she answered.
"But do you know, my darling, that it is wearing your life away?"
"Yes, I know it, but I cannot alter matters. And, mother," she continued, "if we are to be good friends and live together, you must never mention this to me again."
"I will remember," said Margaret, kissing the thin white hands, but to herself she said matters should not so continue. Were Lord Arleigh twenty times a lord, he should not break his wife's heart in that cold, cruel fashion.
A sudden resolve came to Mrs. Dornham--she would go to Beechgrove and see him herself. It he were angry and sent her away from Winiston House, it would not matter--she would have told him the truth. And the truth that she had to tell him was that the separation was slowly but surely killing his wife.