e studied all my life men and
women, I who have made my specialty the brain and all that belongs to
him and all that follow from him! And I have read your diary that you
have so goodly written for me, and which breathes out truth in every
line. I, who have read your so sweet letter to poor Lucy of your
marriage and your trust, not know you! Oh, Madam Mina, good women
tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such
things that angels can read. And we men who wish to know have in us
something of angels' eyes. Your husband is noble nature, and you are
noble too, for you trust, and trust cannot be where there is mean
nature. And your husband, tell me of him. Is he quite well? Is all
that fever gone, and is he strong and hearty?"

I saw here an opening to ask him about Jonathan, so I said, "He was
almost recovered, but he has been greatly upset by Mr. Hawkins death."

He interrupted, "Oh, yes. I know. I know. I have read your last two
letters."

I went on, "I suppose this upset him, for when we were in town on
Thursday last he had a sort of shock."

"A shock, and after brain fever so soon! That is not good. What kind
of shock was it?"

"He thought he saw some one who recalled something terrible, something
which led to his brain fever." And here the whole thing seemed to
overwhelm me in a rush. The pity for Jonathan, the horror which he
experienced, the whole fearful mystery of his diary, and the fear that
has been brooding over me ever since, all came in a tumult. I suppose
I was hysterical, for I threw myself on my knees and held up my hands
to him, and implored him to make my husband well again. He took my
hands and raised me up, and made me sit on the sofa, and sat by me. He
held my hand in his, and said to me with, oh, such infinite sweetness,

"My life is a barren and lonely one, and so full of work that I have
not had much time for friendships, but since I have been summoned to
here by my friend John Seward I have known so many good people and
seen such nobility that I feel more than ever, and it has grown with
my advancing years, the loneliness of my life. Believe me, then, that
I come here full of respect for you, and you have given me hope, hope,
not in what I am seeking of, but that there are good women still left
to make life happy, good women, whose lives and whose truths may make
good lesson for the children that are to be. I am glad, glad, that I
may here be of some u