At the close of the meal, Mr.Belcher followed her to her room, and found her with dry eyes and an angry face.
"Robert, you have determined to kill me," she said, almost fiercely.
"Oh, no, Sarah; not quite so bad as that." "How could you take a step which you knew would give me a life-long pain?
Have I not suffered enough?
Is it not enough that I have ceased practically to have a husband ?--that I have given up all society, and been driven in upon my children?
Am I to have no will, no consideration, no part or lot in my own life ?" "Put it through, Sarah; you have the floor, and I'm ready to take it all now." "And it is all for show," she went on, "and is disgusting.

There is not a soul in the city that your wealth can bring to me that will give me society.

I shall be a thousand times lonelier there than I have been here; and you compel me to go where I must receive people whom I shall despise, and who, for that reason, will dislike me.

You propose to force me into a life that is worse than emptiness.

I am more nearly content here than I can ever be anywhere else, and I shall never leave here without a cruel sense of sacrifice." "Good for you, Sarah!" said Mr.Belcher.