Bess of the Woods by Warwick Deeping

For an hour Jeffray walked alone in the garden that morning, thinking over the future and his duty to Bess. He had sworn to his own heart that she should not fall again into her husband's hands, and yet in the making of this vow he had taken a grave step on the path of life. Jeffray was in no temper to be scared by calumny or slander. He had fought his fight and proved his power to act according to his conscience. His thoughts were not for himself that morning, but for the woman whose life was pledged to him for love.

About ten o'clock he left the garden for the library, and, opening his bureau, wrote a long letter to his attorney at Lincoln's Inn. Then he unlocked an old dower-chest that stood beside the fireplace, and lifted out the strong-box where he kept what money he required. Wilson, who was smoking at the window, watched him counting out the gold pieces and the notes upon the table. The lad was so serious and intent on it that the painter realized how grimly he was in earnest.