He remained there three days, and then went
abroad. Where he was now she did not know; doubtless he was traveling
from one place to another, wretched, unhappy as she was herself.
The desolate, dreary life had begun to prey upon her at last. She had
fought against it bravely for some time--she had tried to live down the
sorrow; but it was growing too strong for her--the weight of it was
wearing her life away. Slowly but surely she began to fade and droop. At
first it was but a failure in strength--a little walk tired her, the
least fatigue or exercise seemed too much for her. Then, still more
slowly, the exquisite bloom faded from the lovely face, a weary languor
shone in the dark-blue eyes, the crimson lips lost their color. Yet Lady
Arleigh grew more beautiful as she grew more fragile. Then all appetite
failed her. Mrs. Burton declared that she ate nothing.
She might have led a different life--she might have gone out into
society--she might have visited and entertained guests. People knew that
Lady Arleigh was separated from her husband; they knew also that,
whatever might have been the cause of separation, it had arisen from no
fault of hers.
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