A Fatal Silence, Vol. 3 (of 3) by Florence Marryat

THE DÉNOÛEMENT.

But she need not have imagined that Hal took no notice of her mood, or of her actions, for he watched both with the eyes of love sharpened by jealousy to those of a lynx. As she wandered aimlessly round the garden, or sat in a chair, with her listless hands lying folded in her lap, her husband was wondering if it were possible she was thinking of anyone but himself. When two people who really love each other lose for a while their trick of mutual confidence, their manners must become strained and uneasy. Both Paula and Hal were suffering deeply -- he, who had been ready to stake his life upon his wife's immaculate fidelity, from a terrible suspicion that, like many another man, he had been deceived -- and she, because the world seemed too hard and cruel to walk through, and for the moment she was out of love with life, and dreaded lest even what had appeared to her a solemn duty might prove the destruction of her happiness. She did not know that Hal was watching her, but _she_ watched _him_ at every furtive moment, fearing to read some suspicion of her in his face, or to hear him demand an immediate explanation of her visits to Haltham. The position she found herself in, and the difficulties which loomed for her in the future, combined with the certain knowledge that, sooner or later, an explanation must ensue, made her restless, irritable, and unlike herself. The next day was Sunday, a bright, clear morning, and Hal Rushton supposed that, as usual, his wife would go to church. He was not a church-goer himself -- he disliked the formality and publicity of the whole proceeding -- but Paula had always attended the morning service, and especially since she had become so intimate with Mary Measures. But on this particular Sunday, though the church bells were ringing through the village, she kept her seat before the fire, and made no attempt to move.