you a cruel letter; but
it was imperative, and under the force of circumstance. I am full of
regrets, and I only wish with all my heart that I might kiss you once
again, and press you in my arms as I used to do.

"But how are you? I have had you before my eyes to-night, and I feel
quite sure that at this very moment you are thinking of me. You must
know that I love you dearly. You gave me your heart, and it shall not
belong to any other. I have tried to be brave and courageous; but, alas!
I have failed. I love you, my darling, and I must see you soon--very
soon.

"Mr. Flockart came to see me to-day and says that you expressed to him a
desire to meet me again. Gratify that desire when you will, and you will
find your Gabrielle just the same--longing ever to see you, living with
only the memories of your dear face.

"Can you doubt of my great, great love for you? You never wrote in reply
to my letter, though I have waited for months. I know my letter was a
cruel one, and to you quite unwarranted; but I had a reason for writing
it, and the reason was because I felt that I ought not to deceive you
any longer.

"You see, darling, I am frank and open. Yes, I have deceived you. I am
terribly ashamed and downhearted. I have tried to conceal my grief, even
from you; but it is impossible. I love you as much as I ever loved you,
and I swear to you that I have never once wavered.

"Grim circumstance forced me to write to you as I did. Forgive me, I beg
of you. If it is true what Mr. Flockart says, then send me a telegram,
and come here to see me. If it be false, then I shall know by your
silence.

"I love you, my own, my well-beloved! _Au revoir_, my dearest heart. I
look at your photograph which to-night smiles at me. Yes, you love me!

"With many fond and sweet kisses like those I gave you in the
well-remembered days of our happiness.

"My love--My king!"

She read the letter carefully through, placed it in an envelope, and,
marking it private, addressed it to Walter's chambers in the Temple,
whence she knew it must be forwarded if he were away. Then, putting on
her tam o' shanter, she went out to the village grocer's, where she
posted it, so that it left by the early morning mail. When would his
welcome telegram arrive? She calculated that he would get the letter by
mid-day, and by one o'clock she could receive his reply--his reassurance
of love.

So she went to her bed, with its white dimity hangings, more calm an