Littleton started as though she had struck him in the face.  “Selma!  My wife!  Do you realize what you are saying?”

“Perfectly.”

“Then—­then—.  Why, what have I said, what have I done that you should talk like this?”

“Done?  Everything.  For one thing you have thrown away the chance for getting ahead in your profession which I procured for you.  For another, by your visionary, unpractical ways, you have put me in the position where I can be insulted.  Read that, and judge for yourself.”  She held out to him the newspaper containing the account of the dancing party, pointing with her finger to the obnoxious passage.

With nervous hands Littleton drew the page under the light.  “What is all this about?  A party?  What has it to do with our affairs?”

“It has this to do with them—­if you had been more practical and enterprising, our names would have been on that list.”

“I am glad they are not there.”

“Yes, I know.  You would be content to have us remain nobodies all our days.  You do not care what becomes of my life, provided you can carry out your own narrow theory of how we ought to live.  And I had such faith in you, too!  I have refused to believe until now that you were not trying to make the most of your opportunities, and to enable me to make the most of mine.”

“Selma, are you crazy?  To think that you, the woman I have loved with all my soul, should be capable of saying such things to me!  What does it mean?”

She was quick to take advantage of his phrase.  “Have loved?  Yes, I know that you do not love me as you did; otherwise you could not have refused to build that house, against my wish and advice.  It means this, Wilbur Littleton, that I am determined not to let you spoil my life.  You forget that in marrying you I gave up my own ambitions and hopes for your sake; because—­because I believed that by living together we should be more, and accomplish more, than by living apart.  You said you needed me, and I was fool enough to believe it.”

The fierce tragedy in her tone lapsed into self-pity under the influence of her last thought, and Littleton, eager in his bewilderment for some escape from the horror of the situation, put aside his anger and dropping on his knees beside her tried to take her hands.

“You are provoked, my darling.  Do not say things which you will be sorry for to-morrow.  I call God to witness that I have sought above all else to make you happy, and if I have failed, I am utterly miserable.  I have needed you, I do need you.  Do not let a single difference of opinion spoil the joy of both our lives and divide our hearts.”

She pulled her hands away, and shunning his endearment, rose to her feet.