treachery and despicable underhand
doings. Marcus, you must forgive me--I was a desperate woman fighting
for my life's happiness. I thought I would try one forlorn hope. I kept
you out of the way and came up here to see Carlotta. Don't interrupt me,
Marcus; let me finish. I happened to meet her a hundred yards down the
road, and we went into the Regent's Park. We sat down and I told her
about ourselves, and my love for you, and asked her to give you up. I
don't believe she understood, Marcus. She laughed and threw stones at a
little dog. I recovered my senses and left her there and went home sick
with shame and humiliation. I knew Pasquale was in love with her, for he
had told me so the night before, and asked me how the marriage could be
stopped. He didn't believe in your announcement to Hamdi Effendi. But I
never mentioned Pasquale to Carlotta, or hinted there might be another
than you. I was loyal so far, Marcus. And two or three days afterwards
came Pasquale's letter. And I waited for you, in a fearful joy. I knew
you would come to me--and I was mad enough to think that time would
heal--that you would forget--that we could have the dear past again--and
I would teach you to love me. But then, suddenly, without a word of
warning--it has always been his way--appeared my husband. After that,
you came with your offer of shelter and comfort--and you seemed like the
angel of the flaming vengeance. For I had wronged you, dear--robbed you
of your happiness. If I hadn't prepared her mind for leaving you, she
would never have run away. If I had not done this, or if on the other
hand you loved me, Marcus, I should perhaps have looked at things
differently. I am beginning to believe in God and to see his hand in
it all. I couldn't come and live with you as your wife, Marcus. Things
stronger even than my love for you forbid it. Our life together would
not be the sweet and gracious thing it has always been to me. We have
come to the parting of the ways. I must follow my husband."

I knew she spoke rightly. When she is not swept away to hysterical
action by her temperament, she has a perception exquisitely keen into
the heart of truth.

"The parting of the ways?" said I. "Yes; but can't you rest at the
cross-roads? Can't you lead your present life--your husband and myself,
both, just your friends?"

"Rupert has need of me," she replied very quickly. "He is a man in
torment of soul. He has gone to this extreme of religious fanatic