e worst thing about it all, however, was the crushing blow which it
gave to his self-love. I am inclined to think that he was very much
taken down, on one occasion, when I informed him incidentally that
Marion was in excellent spirits, and was said to be in better health
than she had known for years. Miss Phillips's policy, however, was a
severer blow. For it had all along been his firm belief that his
tangled love-affairs could not end without a broken heart, or
melancholy madness, or life-long sorrow, or even death, to one or more
of his victims. To save them from such a fate, he talked of suicide.
All this was highly romantic, fearfully melodramatic, and even
mysteriously tragic. But, unfortunately for Jack's self-conceit, the
event did not coincide with these highly-colored views. The ladies
refused to break their hearts. Those organs, however susceptible and
tender they may have been, beat bravely on. Number Three viewed him
with indifference. Miss Phillips coolly and contemptuously cast him
off, and at once found new consolation in the devotion of another.
Broken hearts! Melancholy madness! Life-long sorrow! Not they, indeed.
They didn't think of him. They didn't confide their wrongs to any
avenger. No brother or other male relative sent Jack a challenge. He
was simply dropped. He was forgotten. Now any one may see the chagrin
which such humiliation must have caused to one of Jack's temper.

And how did the widow treat Jack all this time? The widow! She was
sublime; for she showed at once the fostering care of a mother, and
the forgiveness of a saint. Forgiveness? That's not the word. I am
wrong. She showed nothing of the kind. On the contrary, she evinced no
consciousness whatever that any offence had been committed. If Jack had
deceived her as to Miss Phillips, she showed no knowledge of such
deceit; if he had formed other entanglements of which he had never told
her, she never let him know whether she had found out or not; if Jack
went every evening to console himself with Louie, any discovery which
the widow may have made of so very interesting yet transparent a fact
was never alluded to by her. Such was the lofty ground which the widow
took in reference to Jack and his affairs, and such was the manner with
which she viewed him and them--a manner elevated, serene, calm,
untroubled--a manner always the same. For she seemed above all care for
such things. Too high-minded, you know. Too lofty in soul, my boy, and