" "My mother!" "Why, why this persistent hatred?" "Cannot
you let us alone?" "Must you destroy our home?"
These were the mutterings at intervals. She listened, and in the
darkness her impulse was to throw herself on her husband, tell him
all, show him how she had been misled, and promise to give up all to
which that true Vivienne had prompted her. She did even try to wake
him, but the attempt caused only a more distinct expostulation of
"Cannot you let her alone?" "Cannot you let us learn to love one
another?" "It may be revenge on me or my mother; but what has she
done?" "Don't!--oh, don't!"
The distress she caused forced her to desist, and she remembered how
Raymond had always warned her. The intimacy with Lady Tyrrell had
been in the teeth of his remonstrances. He had said everything to
prevent it short of confessing his former attachment, and though
resentful that the warning had been denied her, she felt it had been
well that she had been prevented from putting the question on her
first impulse. Many ways of ascertaining the fact were revolved by
her as with an aching head she lay hopelessly awake till morning,
when she fell into a doze which lasted until she found that Raymond
had risen, and that she must dress in haste, unless she meant to
lose her character for punctuality.
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