There was no resource but this absolute silence.
Lady Blessington, in her last conversation with Lord Byron, thus describes the life Lady Byron was leading.

She speaks of her as 'wearing away her youth in almost monastic seclusion, questioned by some, appreciated by few, seeking consolation alone in the discharge of her duties, and avoiding all external demonstrations of a grief that her pale cheek and solitary existence alone were vouchers for.' {49} The main object of all this silence may be imagined, if we remember that if Lord Byron had not died,--had he truly and deeply repented, and become a thoroughly good man, and returned to England to pursue a course worthy of his powers, there was on record neither word nor deed from his wife to stand in his way.
HIS PLACE WAS KEPT IN SOCIETY, ready for him to return to whenever he came clothed and in his right mind.

He might have had the heart and confidence of his daughter unshadowed by a suspicion.

He might have won the reverence of the great and good in his own lands and all lands.

That hope, which was the strong support, the prayer of the silent wife, it did not please God to fulfil.
Lord Byron died a worn-out man at thirty-six.