ble years I
have searched and prayed for you,--have clung to the hope of finding
you, of telling you all,--of hearing your precious lips utter those
words for which my ears have so long ached, 'Edith, I hold you
guiltless of my wretchedness.' But at last, when my search is
successful, to be browbeaten, derided, denounced, insulted,--oh, this
is bitter indeed! This is too hard to be borne!"

Her anguish was uncontrollable, and she sobbed aloud.

Across Mrs. Gerome's white lips crept a quiver, and over her frozen
features rose an unwonted flush; but she did not move a muscle, or
suffer her eyes to wander from the cross and crown on Elsie's tomb.

"Evelyn, I believe, I hope (and may God forgive me if I sin in
hoping), that I have not many years, or perhaps even months to live;
and it would comfort me in my dying hour to feel that I had laid
before you some facts, of which I know you must be ignorant. You have
harshly and unjustly prejudged me,--have steeled yourself against me;
still I wish to tell you some things that weigh heavily upon my
aching, desolate heart. Will you allow me to do so now? Will you hear
me?"

There was evidently a struggle in the mind of the motionless woman
beside the window, but it was brief, and left no trace in the cold,
ringing voice.

"I will hear you."

Slowly and impressively the governess began the narrative, of which
she had given Dr. Grey a hasty _resume_, and when she mentioned the
midnight labors in which she had engaged, the copying of legal
documents, the sale of her drawings, the hoarding of her salary in
order to aid her mother and her betrothed, and to remove the obstacles
to her marriage, Mrs. Gerome sat down, and, crossing her arms on the
window-sill, hid her face upon them.

Unflinchingly Miss Dexter detailed all that occurred after her
arrival in New York; and finally, approaching the window, she insisted
that her listener should peruse the last letter received from her
lover, and containing the promise that within ten days he would come
to claim his bride. But the lovely hand waved it aside, and the proud
voice exclaimed impatiently,--

"I need no additional proof of his perfidy, which, beyond controversy,
was long ago established. Go on! go on!"

Upon all that followed the ceremony,--the departure of the wife,--and
her own despairing grief, the governess dwelt with touching eloquence
and pathos; and, at last, as she spoke of her fruitless journey to
England,--her