d have done credit to a
police-court solicitor. Though sweet, innocent, and intensely
charming, yet there was a reverse side of her character, strong,
firm-minded, almost stern in its austerity.

I must here say that our love, once so passionate and displayed by
fond kisses and hand-pressing, in the usual manner of lovers, had
gradually slackened. A kiss on arrival and another on departure was
all the demonstration of affection that now passed between us. I
doubted her; and though I strove hard to conceal my true feelings, I
fear that my coldness was apparent, not only to her but to the
Hennikers also. She had complained of it when she called at my rooms,
and certainly she had full reason for doing so. I am not one of those
who can feign love. Some men can; I cannot.

Thus it will be seen that although a certain coolness had arisen
between us, in a manner that seemed almost mutual, we were
nevertheless the best of friends. Once or twice she dined with me at a
restaurant, and went to a play afterwards, on such occasions remarking
that it seemed like "old times," in the early days of our blissful
love. And sometimes she would recall those sweet halcyon hours, until
I felt a pang of regret that my trust in her had been shaken by that
letter found among the dead man's effects and that tiny piece of
chenille. But I steeled my heart, because I felt assured that the
truth must out some day.

Mine was a strange position for any man. I loved this woman, remember;
loved her with all my heart and with all my soul. Yet that letter
penned by her had shown me that she had once angled for larger spoils,
and was not the sweet unsophisticated woman I had always supposed her
to be. It showed me, too, that in her heart had rankled a fierce,
undying hatred.

Because of this I did not seek her society frequently, but occupied
myself diligently with my patients--seeking solace in my work, as many
another professional man does where love or domestic happiness is
concerned. There are few men in my profession who have not had their
affairs of the heart, many of them serious ones. The world never knows
how difficult it is for a doctor to remain heart-whole. Sometimes his
lady patients deliberately set themselves to capture him, and will
speak ill-naturedly of him if he refuses to fall into their net. At
others, sympathy with a sufferer leads to a flirtation during
convalescence, and often a word spoken in jest in order to cheer is
taken se