el when I die. Why, then, should
I attempt to filch fragments of a knowledge that will one day be all
my own?--if, indeed, it is right to do so. Whilst I am here, Arthur's
love is more to me than such knowledge can ever be. If he is married,
I may learn to think differently, and try to soothe my mind by forcing
it to run in these hidden grooves. Till then, I choose Arthur and my
petty hopes and fears; for, after all, they are the natural heritage
of my humanity."

Lady Bellamy thought for awhile, and answered,

"I begin to think that the Great Power who made us has mixed even His
most perfect works with an element of weakness, lest they should soar
too high, and see too far. The prick of a pin will bring a balloon to
earth, and an earthly passion, Angela, will prevent you from soaring
to the clouds. So be it. You have had your chance. It is only one more
disappointment."

CHAPTER LXX

Angela went home very thoughtful. The next three days she spent in
writing. First, she wrote a clear and methodical account of all the
events that had happened since Arthur's first departure, more than a
year ago, and attached to it copies of the various documents that had
passed between herself and George, including one of the undertaking
that her husband had signed before the marriage. This account was in
the form of a statement, which she signed, and, taking it to Mr.
Fraser, read it to him, and got him to sign it too. It took her two
whole days to write, and, when it was done, she labelled it "to be
read first." On the third day she wrote the following letter to go
with the statement:

"For the first time in my life, Arthur, I take up my pen to write to
you, and in truth the difficulty of the task before me, as well as my
own want of skill, tends to bewilder me, and, though I have much upon
my mind to say, I scarcely know if it will reach you--if, indeed, this
letter is ever destined to lie open in your hands--in an intelligible
form.

"The statement that I enclose, however, will--in case you do not
already know them--tell you all the details of what has happened since
you left me more than a year ago. From it you will learn how cruelly I
was deceived into marrying George Caresfoot, believing you dead. Oh,
through all eternity, never shall I forget that fearful night, nor
cease to thank God for my merciful escape from the fiend whom I had
married. And then came the morning, and brought you--the