rising moon, nor was the
moonshine whiter than her cheek, nor sadder than her steadfast eyes. Her
lips were soft and yielding, clinging, dewy wet. He had never thought a
kiss could be so sweet, and yet he could have wept, he knew not why.

When he reached his lodgings he was in an extremely nervous condition. In
spite of all that was painful and depressing in the associations of the
event, the idea of having Madeline for his wife in a few days more had
power to fill him with feverish excitement, an excitement all the more
agitating because it was so composite in its elements, and had so little
in common with the exhilaration and light-heartedness of successful
lovers in general. He took one of the doctor's sleeping powders, tried to
read a dry book oil electricity, endeavoured to write a business letter,
smoked a cigar, and finally went to bed.

It seemed to him that he went all the next day in a dazed, dreaming
state, until the moment when he presented himself, after tea, at
Madeline's lodgings, and she opened the door to him. The surprise which
he then experienced was calculated to arouse him had he been indeed
dreaming. His first thought was that she had gone crazy, or else had been
drinking wine to raise her spirits; for there was a flush of excitement
on either cheek, and her eyes were bright and unsteady. In one hand she
held, with a clasp that crumpled the leaves, a small scientific magazine,
which he recognized as having been one of a bundle of periodicals that he
had sent her. With her other hand, instead of taking the hand which he
extended, she clutched his arm and almost pulled him inside the door.

"Henry, do you remember what George Bayley said that might in meeting,
about the river of Lethe, in which, souls were bathed and forgot the
past?"

"I remember something about it," he answered.

"There is such a river. It was not a fable. It has been found again," she
cried.

"Come and sit down, dear don't excite yourself so much. We will talk
quietly," he replied, with a pitiful effort to speak soothingly, for he
made no question that her long brooding had affected her mind.

"Quietly! How do you suppose I can talk quietly?" she exclaimed
excitedly, in her nervous irritation throwing off the hand which he had
laid on her arm. "Henry, see here, I want to ask you something. Supposing
anybody had done something bad and had been very sorry for it, and then
had forgotten it all, forgotten it wholly, would you