even for his happiness--the firmness of it, I say, left him no hope.
He appealed to my compassion; he appealed to his love for me.
You know what women are. I too was soft-hearted--I said,
Very well: yes! In a week more (I tremble as I think of it)
we are to be married.'

She did really tremble--she was obliged to pause and compose herself,
before she could go on. The Doctor, waiting for more facts,
began to fear that he stood committed to a long story. 'Forgive me
for reminding you that I have suffering persons waiting to see me,'
he said. 'The sooner you can come to the point, the better for my
patients and for me.'

The strange smile--at once so sad and so cruel--showed itself again
on the lady's lips. 'Every word I have said is to the point,'
she answered. 'You will see it yourself in a moment more.'

She resumed her narrative.

'Yesterday--you need fear no long story, sir; only yesterday--
I was among the visitors at one of your English luncheon parties.
A lady, a perfect stranger to me, came in late--after we had left
the table, and had retired to the drawing-room. She happened
to take a chair near me; and we were presented to each other.
I knew her by name, as she knew me. It was the woman whom I had
robbed of her lover, the woman who had written the noble letter.
Now listen! You were impatient with me for not interesting
you in what I said just now. I said it to satisfy your mind
that I had no enmity of feeling towards the lady, on my side.
I admired her, I felt for her--I had no cause to reproach myself.