left the country in a state of mind which it is very difficult to
describe. He refused to see me on his departure, and I have never seen
him since.

"The human heart, my young friend, is a great mystery. I now attached
myself to Lady Emily, and was about to disclose my marriage to her; but
as the state of my wife's health was hopeless, I declined to do so, in
the expectation that a little time might set me free. My wife was then
living in a remote little village in the south of France; most of her
relatives were dead, and those who survived were at the time living in a
part of Connaught, Galway, to which any kind of intelligence, much less
foreign, seldom ever made its way. Now, I do not want to justify myself,
because I cannot do so. I said this moment that the human heart is a
great mystery. So it is. Whilst my passion for Lady Emily was literally
beyond all restraint, I nevertheless felt visitations of remorse
that were terrible. The image of my gentle Maria, sweet, contented,
affectionate, and uncomplaining, would sometimes come before me,
and--pardon me, my friend; I am very weak, but I will resume in a few
moments. Well, the struggle within me was great. I had a young duke as a
rival; but I was not only a rising man, but actually had a party in
the House of Commons. Her family, high and ambitious, were anxious to
procure my political support, and held out the prospect of a peerage. My
wife was dying; I loved Lady Emily; I was without offspring; I was
poor; I was ambitious. She was beautiful, of high family and powerful
connections; she was immensely rich, too, highly accomplished, and
enthusiastically attached to me. These were temptations.

"At this period it so fell out that a sister of my wife's became
governess in Lady Emily's family; but the latter were ignorant of the
connection. This alarmed me, frightened me; for I feared she would
disclose my marriage. I lost no time in bringing about a private
interview with her, in which I entreated her to keep the matter secret,
stating that a short time would enable me to bring her sister with eclat
into public life. I also prevailed upon her to give up her situation,
and furnished her with money for Maria, to whom I sent her, with
an assurance that my house should ever be her home, and that it
was contrary to my wishes ever to hear my wife's sister becoming a
governess; and this indeed was true. I also wrote to my wife, to the
effect that the pressure of my parliame