"I hear you're to have a house-party at Castle Raa. Jimmy's in his room writing piles of invitations. He has asked me and I should love to go, but of course I cannot do so without you wish it. Do you?"
What could I say? What I did say I scarcely know. I only know that at the next minute Alma's arms were round my neck, and she was saying:
"You dear, sweet, unselfish little soul! Come let me kiss you."
It was done. I had committed myself. After all what right had I to raise myself on a moral pinnacle now? And what did it matter, anyway? I was flying from the danger of my own infidelities, not to save my husband from his.
Price had been in the room during this interview and when it was over I was ashamed to look at her.
"I can't understand you, my lady; I really can't," she said.
Next day I wrote a little letter to Martin on the Scotia telling him of our change of plans, but forbidding him to trouble to come up to say good-bye, yet half hoping he would disregard my injunction.
He did. Before I left my bedroom next morning I heard his voice in the sitting-room talking to Price, who with considerable emphasis was giving her views of Alma.
When I joined him I thought his face (which had grown to be very powerful) looked hard and strained; but his voice was as soft as ever while he said I was doing right in going home and that my native air must be good for me.
"But what's this Price tells me—that Madame is going with you?"