“I assume,” she said, “that you are my chosen successor, and I can’t complain of my husband’s taste. You are very handsome and I can see how your youth would appeal to him, but—there are things I must consider. Please wait”—Grace had laid her hand on the door,—“I may as well say it all now. I’ve probably led Ward to think that if such an emergency as this arose I’d free him and bid him Godspeed. But, you see, confronted with the fact, I find it necessary to think a little of myself. One must, you know, and I’m horribly selfish. It would never do to give my critics a chance to take a fling at me as a woman whose marriage is a failure. You can see for yourself, Miss Durland, how my position would be weakened if I were a divorcee. Much as I hate to disappoint you—it would never do—really it would not!”
“Just what are you assuming, Mrs. Trenton?” demanded Grace, meeting the gaze of the older woman.
“We needn’t discuss that now!” interrupted Trenton peremptorily.
“No; I suppose you’d have to confer privately with Miss Durland before reaching a conclusion. But, I suggest, Miss Durland, for the sake of your own happiness, that you avoid, if, indeed, the warning isn’t too late, forming any—what do we call such—”
“That will do! Stop right there!” Trenton interrupted.
Grace had swung round from the door, and stood, her lips parted and with something of the look of an angry, hurt child in her eyes. It seemed to her that she was an unwilling eavesdropper, hearing words not intended for her ears, but without the power to escape. Then she heard Trenton’s voice.
“You’d better go, Grace,” he said quietly. “Craig is waiting. He will take you home.”
Grace closed the door after her and paused in the dim hall. A nightmare numbness had seized her; and she found herself wondering whether she could reach the outer door; it seemed remote, unattainable. She steadied herself against the newel, remembering an accident in childhood that had left her dazed and nauseated. Trenton had told her to go; at his wife’s bidding he was sending her away and it wasn’t necessary for him to dismiss her like that!
She felt herself precipitated into a measureless oblivion; nothing good or beautiful ever had been or would be. He had told her to go; that was all; and like a grieved and heartbroken child she resented being sent away. In her distress she was incapable of crediting him with the kindness that had prompted him to bid her leave.
She was startled by a quick step on the walk outside, followed by the click of the lock, and the door, flung open, revealed Miss Reynolds.