I found my Lady of the Ice were not such as are generally chosen
by the novelist for an encounter between the hero and heroine of his
novel. Of that I am well aware; but then I'm not a novelist, and I'm
not a hero, and the Lady of the Ice isn't a heroine--so what have you
got to say to that? The fact is, I'm talking about myself. I found
Marion running away, or trying to run away, with my intimate friend.
The elopement, however, did not come off. She was thrown into my way in
an amazing manner, and I identified her with my Lady, after whom I
longed and pined with a consuming passion. Did the discovery of the
Lady of the Ice under such circumstances change my affections? Not at
all. They only grew all the stronger. The Lady was the same as ever. I
had not loved Nora, but the Lady of the Ice; and now that I found out
who she was, I loved Marion. This happens to be the actual state of the
case; and, whether it is artistic or not, does not enter into my mind
for a single moment.

Having thus explained my feelings concerning Marion, it will easily be
seen that any resentment which I might have felt against Jack for
causing her grief, was more than counterbalanced by the prospect I now
had that she would give him up forever. Besides, our quarrel was on the
subject of Nora, and this had to be explained. Then, again, my duel was
on the _tapis_, and I wanted Jack for a second. I therefore determined
to hunt him up as soon as possible.

But in the course of the various meditations which had filled the hours
of the night, one thing puzzled me extremely, and that was the
pretension of Nora to be my Lady of the Ice. Why had she done so? Why
did Marion let her? Why did O'Halloran announce his own wife to me as
the lady whom I had saved? No doubt Nora and Marion had some reason.
But what, and why? And what motive had O'Halloran for deceiving me?
Clearly none. It was evident that he believed Nora to be the lady. It
was also evident that on the first night of the reading of the
advertisement, and nay story, he did not know that the companion of
that adventure of mine was a member of his family. The ladies knew it,
but he didn't. It was, therefore, a secret of theirs, which they were
keeping from him. But why? And what possible reason had Marion for
denying it, and Nora for coming forward and owning up to a false
character to O'Halloran?

All these were perplexing and utterly bewildering mysteries, of which.
I could make nothing.