A Life's Secret: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

A strange expression—a wrung expression—passed over the face of James Hunter. 'I cannot help myself, Henry. The five thousand pounds are gone, and of course it is right that I should bear the loss alone—or any other loss it may bring in its train.'

'But why not impart to me the facts?'

'No. It could not possibly do good; and it might make matters infinitely worse. One advantage our separation will have; there is a great deal of money owing to us from different quarters, and this will call it in.'

'Or I don't see how you would carry anything on for your part, minus your five thousand pounds,' retorted Mr. Henry, in a spirit of satire.

'Will you grant me a favour, Henry?'

'That depends upon what it may be.'

'Let the real grounds of our separation—this miserable affair that has led to it—be equally a secret from your wife, as from the world. I should not ask it without an urgent reason.'

'Don't you mean to tell Louisa?'

'No. The matter is one entirely my own; I do not wish to talk of it even to my wife. Will you give me the promise?'