tand all through the interview, and
bringing a low ottoman to Arthur's side, seated herself upon it just
where she could look into his face and detect every change in it.

'Let me tell you of Gretchen as she was when you first knew her,' she
said, 'and then you will be better able to judge of the truth of all I
know.'

He did not reply, and she went on:

'Gretchen was very young--sixteen or seventeen--when you first saw her
knitting in the sunshine under the trees in Wiesbaden, and very
beautiful, too--so beautiful that you went again and again to look at
her and talk to her, until you came to love her very much, and told her
so at last; but you seemed so much above her that she could not believe
you at first. At last, however, you made her understand, and when her
mother died suddenly--'

'Her mother was Mrs. Heinrich, and kept a kind of fancy store,' Arthur
interposed, as if anxious that nothing should be omitted.

'Yes, she kept a fancy store,' Jerrie rejoined; 'and when she died
suddenly and left Gretchen alone, you said to her, "We must be married
at once," and you were, in the little English chapel, by the Rev. Mr.
Eaton, who was then rector.' Here Arthur's eyes opened wide and fixed
themselves wonderingly upon Jerrie, as he said:

'Are you the old Harry that you know all this? But go on; don't stop; it
all comes back to me so plain when I hear you tell it. She wore a straw
bonnet trimmed with blue, and a white dress, but took it off directly
for a black one because her mother was dead. Did she tell you that?'

'No,' Jerrie replied. 'She told me nothing of the dress, only how happy
she was with you, whom she loved so much, and who loved her and made her
so happy for a time that earth seemed like heaven to her, and then--'

Here Jerrie faltered a little, but Arthur's sharp 'What then?' kept her
up, and she continued:

'Then something came to you, and you began to forget everything, even
poor little Gretchen, and went away for weeks and left her very sad and
lonely, not knowing where you were; and then, after some months, you
went away and never came back again to the little wife who waited, and
watched, and prayed, and wanted you so badly.'

'Oh, Cherry! oh, Gretchen! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do it; I
surely didn't. May God forgive me for forgetting the little wife! Was it
long? Was it months, or was it years? I can't remember, only that there
was a Gretchen, and I left her,' Arthur said.

'It wa