tell no
one of my trouble. Then you came to console and strengthen me with
your blessed love, and I grew cheerful again. If the changeling had
been living at the time you asked me to marry you, I should have told
you all; but the poor little creature was dead, and there seemed to
be no necessity of confessing the wrong I had done. It was a selfish
feeling. I couldn't bear the thought of diminishing the love that
was so precious to my wounded heart. I have now told you all, dear
husband."

"Your excuse for concealment is very precious to my own heart," he
replied. "But I regret you did not tell me while we were in Europe;
for then I would not have returned to the United States till I was
quite sure all obstacles were removed. You know I never formed the
project until I knew Mr. Fitzgerald was dead."

"The American gentleman who informed you of his death led me into a
mistake, which has proved disastrous," rejoined she. "He said that
Mrs. Fitzgerald lost her husband and son about the same time. I was
not aware of the existence of a second son, and therefore I supposed
that my first-born had died. I knew that you wanted to spend your old
age in your native country, and that you were particularly desirous to
have Eulalia marry in New England. The dread I had of meeting my child
as the son of another, and seeming to him a stranger, was removed by
his death; and though I shed tears in secret, a load was lifted from
my heart. But the old story of avenging Furies following the criminal
wheresoever he goes seems verified in my case. On the day of Mrs.
Green's ball, I heard two gentlemen in the Revere House talking about
Mr. Bell; and one of them said to the other that Mrs. Fitzgerald's
second son and her daughter had died, and that her oldest son was sole
heir to Mr. Bell's property. My first impulse was to tell you all;
but because I had so long concealed my fault, it was all the more
difficult to confess it then. You had so generously overlooked many
disagreeable circumstances connected with my history, that I found
it extremely painful to add this miserable entanglement to the list.
Still, I foresaw that it must be done, and I resolved to do it; but I
was cowardly, and wanted to put off the evil day. You may remember,
perhaps, that at the last moment I objected to attending that ball;
but you thought it would be rude to disappoint Mrs. Green, merely
because I felt out of spirits. I went, not dreaming of seeing my son
there