It seemed to me that you would never forget that I had been harsh, that I had behaved rather like an enemy than a friend.

But you did forget--you showed me how noble a woman could be, and every day after we parted in July I loved you more.

I thought of you all the summer when I was buried in the Country--my days and nights were full of you.

Then when your great success came--it was base of me--but all the time while I was sending my congratulations to you through my sister at Venice, I was really feeling that there was no more hope for me, and that some cruel force was carrying you away from me.

Then came _Elvira_--and I seemed to give you up for ever.' Her hands dropped from her face, and her great hazel eyes were fixed upon him with that intent look he remembered long ago when she had asked him for the 'truth' about herself and her position.