piest of my life, because I have been
lifted above my old level, and have known for the first time what the
world might yet be to me. There is something more I want to say to you.
I think you know that I have been married--that my wife is--is no more.
You may or may not have heard that miserable story, of my folly,
and----"

"Oh, no!" cried Lettice, impulsively. "It is true that Mrs. Hartley told
me of the great trouble which fell upon you in the loss of which you
speak."

"The great trouble--yes! That is how Mrs. Hartley would put it. And the
Grahams, have they told you nothing?"

"Nothing more."

A look as of relief passed across his face, followed by a spasm of pain;
and he stood gazing wearily through the window.

"Perhaps they do not know, for I have never spoken of it to anyone. But
I want to speak; I want to get rid of some of the wretched burden, and
an irresistible impulse has brought me here to you. I am utterly
selfish; it is like taking your money, or your manuscripts, or your
flowers, or anything that you value, to come in this way and almost
insist on telling you my sordid story. It is altogether
unjustifiable--it is a mad presumption which I cannot account for,
except by saying that a blind instinct made me think that you alone, of
all the people in this world, could help me if you would!"

Lettice was deeply moved by various conflicting emotions; but there was
no hesitation in the sympathy which went out to meet this strange
appeal. Even her reason would probably have justified him in his
unconventional behavior; but it was sympathy, and not reason, which
prompted her to welcome and encourage his confidence.

"If I can help you--if it helps you to tell me anything, please speak."

"I knew I was not mistaken!" he said, with kindling eyes, as he sat down
in a low chair opposite to her. "I will not be long--I will not tell you
all; that would be useless, and needlessly painful. I married in haste,
after a week's acquaintance, the daughter of a French refugee, who came
to London in 1870, and earned a living by teaching his language to the
poorest class of pupils. Don't ask me why I married her. No doubt I
thought it was for love. She was handsome, and even charming in her way,
and for some months I tried to think I was happy. Then, gradually, she
let me wake from my fool's paradise. I found--you will despise me for a
dupe!--that I was not the first man she had pretended to love. Nay, it
was to me t