tedly
attached; and, should all efforts fail, at the expiration of five
years the legacy should revert to the hospital which had sheltered
her in the hour of her destitution. The watch he left with his sister
Constance; the hair, he ordered buried with him. Three months have
elapsed, and no tidings have reached Miss Minge, who remains in
Paris for the purpose of complying with her brother's dying request."
"My poor, perverse Salome! To what desperate extremities has she been
reduced by her unfortunate wilfulness. Gerard, will you tell me
frankly your own conjecture concerning her fate?"
"If alive, I believe she has left Europe."
"Upon what do you base your supposition?"
"Mr. Minge was convinced that her attachment to some one in America
was the insurmountable barrier to his success as a suitor; and, if
so, she probably returned to her native land. Dr. Grey, I will speak
candidly to you of a matter which has doubtless given you some
disquiet. Muriel informs me that you have no confidence in the
sincerity of my attachment to her, and that upon that fact is founded
your refusal to allow the consummation of our engagement, so long as
she continues your ward. I confess I am not free from censure, but,
while I have acted weakly, I am not devoid of principle. Sir, I was
strangely and powerfully attracted to Salome Owen, and she exerted
a species of fascination over me which I scarcely endeavored to
resist. In an evil hour, infatuated by her face and her marvellous
voice, I was wild enough to offer her my hand, and resolved to ask
Muriel to release me. Dr. Grey, even at my own expense, I wish to
exonerate Salome, who never for an instant, by word or look,
encouraged my madness. She repulsed my advances, refused every
attention, and when I rashly uttered words, which, I admit, were
treasonable to Muriel, she almost overwhelmed me with her fiery
contempt and indignation,--threatening to acquaint Muriel with my
inconstancy, and appealing to my honor as a gentleman to keep
inviolate my betrothal vows. Dr. Grey, if my heart temporarily
wandered from its allegiance to your ward, it was not Salome's
fault, for in every respect her conduct towards me was that of a
noble, unselfish woman, who scorned to gratify her vanity at the
expense of another's happiness. She shamed me out of my folly, and
her stern honesty and nobility saved me from a brief and humiliating
career of dishonorable duplicity. Whether living or dead, I owe th
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