The scene on the edge of the cliff had come back to her mind with new and terrible force, all the more portentous as she seemed now to have seen her way of escape made clear. And her husband's face in the moonlight, when she fled from him in panic into the house! Finally, his parting threat that very morning, in which he had involved this man whom she loved. Leigh's arm went about her, and her head rested against his breast. He bent over her, intoxicated by the fragrance of her hair and kissing it passionately.
"All questions and doubts are solved in this," he murmured. "It is different this time, is it not, my darling? What is the use of more words? We understand each other now." He held her from him. "Look up into my eyes," he commanded, with reckless exultation. "Your eyes blind me; how wonderful they are! Do you know what I was thinking, all the time you were talking to me about Emmet? I was n't half listening—I was imagining that you were my wife and not his, sitting with me by the fire. I allowed myself to see things, not as they were, but as they ought to be, as they shall be!"
"I was a proud woman once," she faltered, "but I have no right to be proud any more. If you will only understand me, if you will only love me always as you do now, I shall not care for anything else. Tell me you were to blame, too, and save me some remnant of my self-respect."
"Blame!" he echoed contemptuously. "See, my darling, how I kiss away your tears. Poor child, so storm-tossed, so troubled! Have we not dealt enough with words, while all the time this was the only reality? Can you talk of blame on either side, Felicity, when we love each other as we do?" In that moment of happiness he could not bring himself to tell her of the letter in his pocket that gave him permission to join the expedition to Egypt. He had still a few days to spare, and though he was resolved to go, he would not throw the shadow of separation over their first perfect understanding. That very afternoon he had arranged with Dr. Renshaw for his substitute, and had made his final plans. He would have gone to her to-morrow with the news, but now he would wait until to-morrow before he spoke.
Silence had fallen between them when they heard the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs, buoyant and determined. They might be directed to Cardington's room across the way, but the two listeners stood as if frozen, waiting with strange foreboding for the issue. Then came a loud knocking on the door.
They stood apart, and looked at each other with mute irresolution. The knock was repeated, and before they could fortify themselves to meet the crisis, the door opened and Emmet advanced boldly into the dim light of the fire. Leigh stepped quickly between him and Felicity.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion, Mr. Emmet?" he asked quietly.
The bishop's daughter seemed to grow taller with scorn of the vulgar outbreak and unseemly charges she believed to be inevitable, but her husband raised his hand as if to ward off resentment, and Leigh saw in a glance that he was no longer the man he had known. There was little now of that bold, insistent personality which had once radiated a compelling sense of power. His face seemed thinner, finer, almost luminous with his purpose of renunciation. He looked at Leigh with none of the fury of the outraged husband in his eyes, but rather with a suggestion of sympathy and understanding.
"I 've been to the bishop's," he began abruptly. "I wanted to see him and Felicity once more to take back all I said this morning, and to say I would do as they wished. They were n't at home, and I guessed somehow they might be here. Anyhow, even if they were n't, I wanted you to know, Mr. Leigh, that I 'd given Felicity up. Never mind why,—that's my affair,—but it's right for every one concerned. I 'll not be the dog in the manger any longer. You were intended for her, and she for you. I knew it long ago, though I would n't admit it; and after all this trouble is over, you 'll be happy together"—His voice died away, and having taken a step aside to bring Felicity within range of his vision, he stood looking from one to the other with an expression which prophesied the spiritual aloofness he might one day attain.
"Felicity," he said, "you 'll not have reason to fear me any more. It 's clear sailing for us both now. And don't reproach yourself. The account is more than square. You 've not been as much to blame as I have,—be sure of that."