end your own rights, all would
have gone well, I should have kept the promise I had made for myself."

"It was so much the more sacred because of my absence, John," Gilbert
said.

"Perhaps. After all, I suppose it was only a question of opportunity.
That particular devil who tempts men to their dishonour contrived that
the business should be made fatally easy for me. You were away, and the
coast was clear, you know. I loved you, Gilbert; but there is a passion
stronger than the love which a man feels for his dearest friend. I meant
most steadfastly to keep my faith with you; but you were away, and that
fellow Forster plagued me to come to him. I refused at first--yes, I held
out for a couple of months; but the fever was strong upon me--a restless
demon not to be exorcised by hard work, or dissipation even, for I tried
both. And then before you were at the end of your journey, while you were
still a wanderer across the desolate sea, happy in the thought of your
dear love's fidelity, my courage gave way all at once, and I went down
to Heatherly. And so I saw her, and saw that she loved me--all unworthy
as I was; and from that hour I was a lost man; I thought of nothing but
winning her."

"If you had only been true to me, even then, John; if you had written to
me declaring the truth, and giving me fair warning that you were my
rival, how much better it would have been! Think what a torture of
suspense, what a world of wasted anger, you might have saved me."

"Yes, it would have been the manlier course, no doubt," the other
answered; "but I could not bring myself to that. I could not face the
idea of your justifiable wrath. I wanted to win my wife and keep my
friend. It was altogether a weak notion, that idea of secrecy, of course,
and couldn't hold water for any time, as the result has shown; but I
thought you would get over your disappointment quickly--those wounds are
apt to heal so speedily--and fall in love elsewhere; and then it would
have been easy for me to tell you the truth. So I persuaded my dear love,
who was easily induced to do anything I wished, to consent to our secret
being kept from you religiously for the time being, and to that end we
were married under a false name--not exactly a false name either. You
remember my asking you if you had ever heard the name of Holbrook before
your hunt after Marian's husband? You said no; yet I think you must have
seen the name in some of my old college books. I was ch