In the meantime, however, something decisive happened, as we afterwards
learnt.
It seems that after they left our neighbourhood Ideala had, by
accident, made a number of small discoveries about her husband which
had the effect of destroying any remnant of respect she may still have
felt for him. She found that he was in the habit of examining her
private papers in her absence, and that he had opened her letters and
resealed them. His manner to her was unctuous as a rule; but she knew
he lied to her without hesitation if it suited his purpose--and that
alone would have been enough to destroy her liking for him, for it is
not in the nature of such a woman to love a man who has looked her in
the face and lied to her.
These things, and the loneliness he brought upon her by driving from
her the few people with whom she had any intellectual fellowship, she
would have borne in the old uncomplaining way, but he did not stop
there.
One day she drove into town with a friend who got out to do some
shopping. Ideala waited in the carriage, which had stopped opposite a
public-house, and from where she sat she could see the little sitting-
room behind the bar, and its occupants. They were her husband and the
barmaid, who was sitting on his knee.
Ideala arranged her parasol so that they might not see her if they
chanced to look that way, and calmly resumed the conversation when her
friend returned.
She dined alone with her husband that evening, and talked as usual,
telling him all she had done and what news there was in the paper, as
she always did, to save him the trouble of reading it. In return he
told her he had been at the ironworks all day, only leaving them in
time to dress for dinner, a piece of news she received with a still
countenance, and her soft eyes fixed on the fire.
She was standing on the hearth at the time, and as he spoke he laid his
hand upon her shoulder caressingly, but she could not bear it. Her
powers of endurance were at an end, and for the first time she shrank
from him openly.
"How you do loathe me, Ideala," he exclaimed.
"Yes, I loathe you," she answered.
And then, in a sudden burst of rage, he raised his hand and struck her.
Ideala's determination to be faithful to what she conceived to be her
duty had kept her quiet hitherto, but now a sense of personal
degradation made her desperate, and she forgot all that. Her first
impulse was to consult somebody, to speak and find means to put an end
to her misery; but I was not there, and to whom should she go for
advice. Her impatience brooked no delay. She must see some one
instantly. She thought of the Rector of the parish, but felt he would
not do. He was a fine-looking, well-mannered old gentleman, much
engaged in scientific pursuits, who always spoke of the Deity as if he
were on intimate terms with Him, and had probably never been asked to
administer any but the most formal kind of spiritual consolation in his
life.
The training and experience of a Roman Catholic priest, accustoming
them as it does to deal with every phase of human suffering and
passion, would have been more useful to her in such an emergency, but
she knew none of the priests in that district, and did not think of
going to them. But while she was considering the matter, as if by
inspiration, she remembered something an acquaintance had lately
written to her. This lady was a person for whom she felt much respect,
and that doubtless influenced her decision considerably. The lady
wrote: "It must be convenient to be only twenty minutes by train from
such a big place. I suppose you go over for shopping, &c.? When you are
there again I wish you would go and see my cousin Lorrimer. He is
Adviser in General at the Great Hospital--a responsible position; and I
am sure, if you go, he will be glad to do the honours of the place,
which is most interesting."
Ideala had felt from the first that she would rather consult a stranger
who would be disinterested and unprejudiced. This gentleman's name
promised well for him, for he belonged to people whose integrity was
well known; and his position vouched for his ability--and also for his
age to Ideala, whose imagination had pictured a learned old gentleman,
bald, spectacled, benevolent, full of knowledge of the world, "wise
saws and modern instances." No one, she thought, could be better suited
for her purpose; and accordingly, next day, after attending to her
household duties, she went by an early train to consult him.