"She has no secrets from me. "Let us hope that, like her who 'loved much,' her sins are forgiven her. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. " "It was her own fault," observed Blueskin, moodily. It was in no sense confessional; it was a state of mind in the patient the doctor had already anticipated. Hark ye, Blueskin," continued he, addressing that personage, who, in obedience to his commands, had, with great promptitude, driven out the rabble, and again secured the door, "a word in your ear. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you.
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