"I _did_ want you for the party last
night, and you were the greatest possible help to me. But now, I don't
want you a bit for anything. If you're quick, you can catch the two
o'clock down express and"--twinkling--"see Joan this evening."
"Diana, you're a brick!" And Jerry dashed upstairs to pack his suit-case.
Diana heaved a sigh of relief when, a few hours later, a triumphant and
joyous Jerry departed in search of a bride. She wanted him out of the
house, for that which she had decided to do would be more easily
accomplished without the boy's honest, affectionate eyes beseeching her.
All her arrangements were completed, and to-morrow--to-morrow she was
going to leave Lilac Lodge for ever. Never again would she share the
life of the man who had shown her clearly that, although she was his
wife, she counted with him so infinitely less than that other--than
Adrienne de Gervais. Her pride might break in the leaving, but it would
bend to living under the same roof with him no longer.
Only one thing still remained--to write a letter to her husband and leave
it in his study for him to find upon his return. It savoured a little of
the theatrical, she reflected, but there seemed no other way possible.
She didn't want Max to come in search of her, so she must make it clear
to him that she was leaving him deliberately and with no intention of
ever returning.
She had told the servants that she was going away on a few days' visit,
and after Jerry's departure she gave her maid instructions concerning her
packing.
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