The hapless young wife could find no answer to that question; her head drooped, and her lips were dumb.
"I am so glad you told me this," said Vivian; and it was strange that Ida did not notice the ring of triumph in the voice of her false friend as she said: "I will do my best to bring you two together. I do not ask which one is at fault. Both can not be entirely blameless."
"There is a shadow between us which never can be lifted," sobbed the young wife, putting her head on Vivian's shoulder. "There is love on only one side," went on Ida, despairingly. "He is indifferent to me, and—and he will grow to hate me."
"Forgive me, please, if I have been so engrossed in my own love affair that I did not notice anything was amiss between my old friend Eugene and his fair young bride."
"I almost dread to think of the future," moaned the young wife. "There are times when I give myself up to wondering over the strange problems of life, and I ask myself why I, who should be happy, find the world so dark and dreary."
"You must be very patient," said Vivian, "and above all things, let me warn you against being the first to make overtures for a reconciliation."
"Oh, I am so very, very glad that I have had this talk with you," sobbed Ida, "for during the past week I had come to the conclusion that the very first time I found my husband in the library, I would go up to him, and say; 'This kind of life is killing me. It would be better far for you to plunge a knife in my breast and kill me. Either take me to your heart, either make me your wife in fact as well as name, or send me out into the coldness and bitterness of the world. I can endure this no longer. Your friends crowd about me, thinking I am the happiest person in the world, while I am the most miserable. I must go from here, because I have learned to love you, my husband, with all my heart and soul. You may be surprised to hear this from me, but it is the truth. I love you as no one else ever will. You may live for years, flattered and happy, but no love like mine will ever come to you again. Although you married me, yet you do not love me, and never will. Always remember that the wife who is leaving you loves you with all her heart. I would not tell you this now, but that I know in this world we may never meet again.'"
Her voice died away in a whisper as she uttered the last word, and the false friend who had determined to part husband and wife said she had learned just in time what was necessary to prevent a reconciliation between Ida and her husband.