had not been willing to let me leave my child on a doorstep without
protesting, and, little though I heeded its condemnation, I was glad to
be able to get my own way and at the same time to silence the voice of my
inward critic.

"The plan seemed simplicity itself. My wife, as I have told you, had no
parents living. Her brothers and sisters, who were all married and
living in different parts of the country, had been led to believe that
her death was the result of an accident. Mrs. Meredith had even managed
to prevail on the doctor to lend himself to this fiction; for, my
grandfather being yet alive, there was still every reason not to declare
our marriage, while there seemed to be none in favour of doing so, and I
shrank from the questionings and scenes which publicity now would not
fail to bring upon me. Before I left Mrs. Meredith we had agreed that
she should at once communicate with her Russian friend, whose name I
refused to let her tell me.

"I have told you before to-day, Gimblet, of all that has happened since.
How I took passionately to books as a refuge from my sorrow; how, at my
grandfather's suggestion, I had been by way of working for the
Diplomatic Service; of how I now worked in good earnest, and in course
of time, and after my grandfather's death, found myself attached to our
embassy at Petersburg. During the two years I spent there I made the
acquaintance of Countess Romaninov. One day when I was talking to her
she happened to mention that she had once known an English lady, Mrs.
Meredith, and I came to the conclusion that the little girl who lived
with her must be none other than my own child. As you know, I could not
stand living in the same town as she did, and for that, and for other
reasons, I left the Diplomatic Service and returned to England, where I
have lived a quiet life on my place in Scotland ever since. Eight years