"Yes," mused she, "her lord, like mine, proved a failure, but here the likeness ends—she got rid of him but there is no such luck for me. I must put up with his brutal insults, his coarse language, his murderous assaults—yes, I must bear it for better for worse until death doth us part—"
"Which I hope will be very soon, my dear, delightful spouse," cried a hic-coughy voice from an outer room and instantly the bloated face of Montague Arnold confronted his wife in tantalizing and brutal aspect.
We will pass over the scene which followed, suffice to say that the inebriated husband finally betook himself to his room and—more beast than man—lay until he was sufficiently recovered to set out for the scene of dissipation to be enacted on the coming night.
When quiet was fully restored and Evelyn had once more found respite in her heroine's increasing woes a familiar step sounded in the passage.
"Come at last Hubert, I wish you had been here sooner."
Mrs. Arnold then gave an exaggerated account of her husband's proceedings, and began sobbing wildly and hysterically.
Hubert Tracy did not like scenes, but he had to await Mrs. Arnold's pleasure.
He had of late been trying to lead a better life and had given the slip to several of his debauched companions, but on the previous evening he had been unable to withstand their urgent entreaties and as he wended his way to Mrs. Arnold's residence his aching brows and dizzy head gave evidence of the sad fact.
"I have had news from home, Evelyn."
"Yes," said the latter faintly.