st few words,
and with an earnest look, she said:

"I am your wife, I, Ermentrude Roberts, married to you in the sight of
God and man. I cannot prove it, but as you once said, our hearts know it
and will continue to know it as long as either of us lives. But I am not
going to obtrude my claims upon you, Carleton, or stand like a specter in
your path. Had this woman you have deceived been weak or foolish or
unloving, or indeed anything but what she is, I might have held to my
rights and insisted upon a recognition which would have profited you in
the end. But I cannot shame that woman--I can neither shame her nor bring
her to grief. You have broken one heart, but you shall be saved the
remorse of breaking two. I had rather suffer myself. I am alone in the
world. I have means. I can ultimately be useful and face good men and
women without fear. Why then should I drag down to the dust one as
innocent as myself, or take from you what may make you the man I once
thought you and hope to see you again. But that I may have strength for
this and for all the sacrifices it involves, you must declare here, now,
in this open park where we stand, with no one within sight much less
within hearing, that I am your wife."

"You are my wife."

"It is enough. Now I can say what otherwise could never have left my
lips. I love you, Carleton, love you to eternity as I promised; but I
shall never seek you again, and you can go on your way unperturbed. I
have consolations here," laying her hand on her breast. "It will no
longer be my portion to watch your face for signs of a failing regard.
What I have is mine, and that is the undying memory of two months of
perfect happiness."

She would have said more, but she saw that he had been greatly shaken.
She feared the renewal of a flame not yet altogether extinct in a heart
which once beat for her alone, and so contenting herself with a low
farewell, she was turning swiftly away, when one last thought made her
pause and say:

"I cannot return you your ring. It is lost. I was careless with it and it
fell unnoticed from my hand. But to-night I will send you back the little
clock which unites our initials. Destroy it if you will, but if some
sentiment bids you keep it, let it be this one and no other: 'I recall
Ermentrude only that I may be faithful to Lucie.'"

With a low cry his head fell upon his breast in extreme self-abasement,
then he slowly lifted his eyes and seeing in her face a full kn