back, I do him the justice to believe that he was ashamed! Even such a
deliberate schemer might well feel a pang under the circumstances. I
remember that he put his elbows on the table, and hid his face in his
hands. He never alluded to the subject again, neither did I. There
seemed plenty of time. I loved him all the more because he was not
wildly elated. All my life I had been trained to dread fortune-hunters,
to value sincerity above every other virtue."

"But during those two weeks _after_ you were married, he still seemed
to--_care_? You believed in him still?"

"Absolutely! Utterly! I must be easily duped, Evelyn, for with all my
heart I believed that that man loved me as deeply as I loved him. Every
word--every look! Oh, he was a finished actor! It all seemed so real--
so real--"

"Charmion, after you had read that letter and understood all that it
meant, what did you do?"

"I went to my room, packed a bag with a few changes of clothing,
collected all the money I had with me, quite a large sum in notes, and
caught the afternoon train for New York. I had no idea where I was
going. My one longing was to escape before he came back, but things
were decided for me. The shock made me faint, and in the heat of the
train I felt worse every hour. When we stopped at a half-way station I
stepped out on to the platform in the same dull, dazed way, hardly
realising what I was doing, and carried my bag out into the street.
Half a mile away I saw a notice of rooms to let in the window of a small
house, and I knocked and went in.

"I stayed in that house for over six months, Evelyn. The woman was a
saint--the kindliest, gentlest creature I have ever met. I told her
that I was ill and in trouble, and wanted to rest, and she put me to bed
and nursed me like a child. I was a long time in getting well. The
very strings of my being seemed to have snapped. I lay torpid week
after week, and the good soul took care of me and asked no questions.
She was one of those rare spirits who pray to God to guide them day by
day, and mean literally what they ask. God had sent me to her in my
need--that was her firm belief--and what she did for me she did for Him.
I had left no message behind--only that terrible letter sealed up, to
be given to my husband on his return. I heard afterwards that he had
searched for me far and wide, had even crossed over to England, thinking
I must be here. When I was well enough I sent f