“My dear child,” Miss Arden said flatly, “it’s not to be thought of. Really, when you’ve got a home waiting for you, I can’t understand this attitude of yours. Anyone would think you disliked your old home. I’m sure I don’t know what has happened to you. You never used to be like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth sighed. “I’m not going to live at home again. I can’t.”

“Can’t? Nonsense! You don’t want to!”

The old Elizabeth started to say, Oh, Auntie, it’s pot that at all! The new Elizabeth intervened and with an effort said,

“No, I don’t. Not now. Things have changed.”

“Well, really, Elizabeth! They certainly have changed if those are your feelings. I’m sure I don’t know what your poor father and I have done to deserve this coldness from you.”

Elizabeth was silent; she was too tired to explain or to reassure.

“Am I to understand,” Miss Arden continued, “that you propose to spend the rest of your life in this indefinite fashion?”

The rest of her life. ... It had a sinister ring. Elizabeth shivered.

“No. I’ve got till March to—to make up my mind.”

Miss Arden raised her brows.

“Indeed? March? What do you mean?”

“Stephen said—I might have a year.”

Miss Arden achieved a shudder at the mention of Stephen’s name.

“It’s the first I’ve heard of it! Do you mean to say that you are thinking of returning to that man?”

“Don’t you want me to?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

“I? My darling, of course not! You’ve never seen fit to confide in me, but I know that he must have treated you abominably.”

Somehow that jarred. Did Aunt Anne tell all her friends that Stephen had treated his wife abominably?

“I never said that, Aunt.”

“Oh, my dear, give me credit for some intuition! I could see it in your face!”

“Then my face lied—like the rest of me!” Elizabeth said bitterly.

Miss Arden stared at her.

“Dear child, what is the matter with you?” she inquired anxiously.

“Stephen didn’t treat me badly. If—if anyone is to blame it’s myself. I can’t go into all that now. If I don’t—if I feel I can’t—go back to him—I suppose we shall have to get a divorce.”

Miss Arden had never dreamed of anything so dreadful.

“Elizabeth, what on earth are you thinking about? Divorce! Pray have a little consideration for your father’s feelings and mine! You may not know it, but divorce is a very disgraceful thing.”

“Oh, I know it,” Elizabeth answered. “I’ve read case after case. What else can I do?”

“There is such a thing as agreeing to remain apart,” Miss Arden said sarcastically, and with the air of having solved the problem. “It is not necessary to fly to spectacular extremes.”