But his wife guessed all, then and afterward.
He proceeded to tell her how, in searching these papers, among a heap of discreditable letters he had lighted upon two or three, pure as white lilies found lying upon a refuse heap, signed "Christian Oakley." "I read them--I was obliged to read them--but I did so privately, and I put them in my pocket before the dean saw them.

No one ever cast eyes upon them except myself.

I took them home with me and kept them, And I keep them now, for they first taught me what she was--this chosen wife of mine.

They let me into the secret of that simple, gentle.
innocent, girlish heart; they made me feel the worth of it, even though it was being thrown away on a worthless man.

And I suspect, from that time I wanted it for my own." He went on to say how he had first made acquaintance with her--on business grounds partly, connected with her father's sudden death, but also intending, as soon as he felt himself warranted in taking such a liberty, to return these letters, and tell her in a plain, honest, fatherly manner what a risk she had run, and what a merciful escape she had made from this young man, who, Dr.Grey then felt certain, would never again dare to appear at Avonsbridge.
But the opportunity never came.