"There is no use, Kitty--no use in talking about it any more," said
Ethel one day, after Mrs. Willoughby had been urging her to show
herself. "I can not. I will not. He has forgotten me utterly."

"Perhaps he has no idea that you are here. He has never seen you."

"Has he not been in Naples as long as we have? He must have seen me in
the streets. He saw Minnie."

"Do you think it likely that he would come to this house and slight
you? If he had forgotten you he would not come here."

"Oh yes, he would. He comes to see Minnie. He knows I am here, of
course. He doesn't care one atom whether I make my appearance or not.
He doesn't even give me a thought. It's so long since _that time_ that
he has forgotten even my existence. He has been all over the world
since then, and has had a hundred adventures. I have been living
quietly, cherishing the remembrance of that one thing."

"Ethel, is it not worth trying? Go down and try him."

"I can not bear it. I can not look at him. I lose all self-command
when he is near. I should make a fool of myself. He would look at me
with a smile of pity. Could I endure that? No, Kitty; my weakness must
never be known to him."

"Oh, Ethel, how I wish you could try it!"

"Kitty, just think how utterly I am forgotten. Mark this now. He knows