Poor thing! how I tire her with running up and down!" She fetched writing materials, and held up the blotting-book as a support to his hand, while he penned a brief note to his nominal wife.
"The animosity shown towards me by your father," he wrote, in this coldest of marital epistles, "is such that I cannot return again to a roof which is his, even though it shelters you.

A parting is unavoidable, as you are sure to be on his side in this division.

I am starting on a journey which will take me a long way from Hintock, and you must not expect to see me there again for some time." He then gave her a few directions bearing upon his professional engagements and other practical matters, concluding without a hint of his destination, or a notion of when she would see him again.

He offered to read the note to Felice before he closed it up, but she would not hear or see it; that side of his obligations distressed her beyond endurance.

She turned away from Fitzpiers, and sobbed bitterly.
"If you can get this posted at a place some miles away," he whispered, exhausted by the effort of writing--"at Shottsford or Port-Bredy, or still better, Budmouth--it will divert all suspicion from this house as the place of my refuge." "I will drive to one or other of the places myself--anything to keep it unknown," she murmured, her voice weighted with vague foreboding, now that the excitement of helping him had passed away.
Fitzpiers told her that there was yet one thing more to be done.