n ask you to say farewell.
Mistress Vernon, you do not despise me half so bitterly as I despise
myself."

Dorothy was one of those rare natures to whom love comes but once. It had
come to her and had engulfed her whole being. To part with it would be
like parting with life itself. It was her tyrant, her master. It was her
ego. She could no more throw it off than she could expel herself from her
own existence. All this she knew full well, for she had analyzed her
conditions, and her reason had joined with all her other faculties in
giving her a clear concept of the truth. She knew she belonged to John
Manners for life and for eternity. She also knew that the chance of seeing
him soon again was very slight, and to part from him now in aught but
kindness would almost kill her.

Before John had recognized Dorothy he certainly had acted like a fool, but
with the shock of recognition came wisdom. All the learning of the
ancients and all the cunning of the prince of darkness could not have
taught him a wiser word with which to make his peace, "I may never let you
see my face again." That was more to be feared by Dorothy than even John's
inconstancy.

Her heart was full of trouble. "I do not know what I wish," she said
simply. "Give me a little time to think."

John's heart leaped with joy, but he remained silent.

Dorothy continued: "Oh, that I had remained at home. I would to God I had
never seen Derby-town nor you."

John in the fulness of his wisdom did not interrupt her.

"To think that I have thus made a fool of myself about a man who has
given his heart to a score of women."

"This is torture," moaned John, in real pain.

"But," continued Dorothy, "I could not remain away from this place when I
had the opportunity to come to you. I felt that I must come. I felt that I
should die if I did not. And you are so false. I wish I were dead. A
moment ago, had I been another woman, you would have kissed her. You
thought I was another woman."

John's wisdom stood by him nobly. He knew he could neither explain
successfully nor beg forgiveness. He simply said: "I cannot remain and
look you in the face. If I dare make any request, it is that despite all
you have heard from my lips you will still believe that I love you, and
that in all my life I have never loved any one so dearly. There is no
other woman for me."

"You doubtless spoke the same false words to the other two score women,"
said Dorothy. Tears and sobs were