"I motioned her to a seat, for I could not speak. Her agitation was contagious, and I waited in silent trepidation to learn the mystery of her emotion. "'Forgave me this intrusion,' said she, in hesitating accents; 'you look so young, so innocent, so lovely, my heart misgives me. I cannot, I dare not.' "She spoke in French, a language of which I was mistress, and I recognized at once the land of her birth. She paused, as if unable to proceed, while I sat, pale and cold as marble, wondering what awful revelation she would, but dared not make. Had she come to tell me of my husband's death,--was my first agonized thought, and I faintly articulated,-- "'My husband!' "'_Your_ husband! Poor, deluded young creature. Alas! alas! I can forgive him for deserting me, but not for deceiving and destroying you.' "I started to my feet with a galvanic spring. My veins tingled as if fire were running through them, and my hair rose, startling with electric horror. I grasped her arm with a force she might have felt through covering steel, and looking her steadfastly in the face, exclaimed,-- "'He _is_ my husband; mine in the face of God and man. He is _my_ husband, and the father of my child. I will proclaim it in the face of earth and heaven. I will proclaim it till my dying day. How dare you come to me with slanders so vile, false, unprincipled woman?' "She recoiled a few steps from me, and held up her deprecating hands. "'Have pity upon me, for I am very wretched,' she cried; 'were it not for my child I would die in silence and despair, rather than rouse you from your fatal dream, but I cannot see him robbed of his rights. I cannot see another usurping the name and place he was born to fill. Madam,' continued she, discarding her supplicating tone, and speaking with dignity and force, 'I am no false, unprincipled woman, inventing tales which I cannot corroborate. I am a wife, as pure in heart, as upright in purpose as you can be,--a mother as tender. Forsaken by him whom in spite of my wrongs I still too fondly love, I have left my native land, crossed the ocean's breadth, come a stranger to a strange country, that I might appeal to you for redress, and tell you that if you still persist in calling him your own, it will be in defiance of the laws of man and the canons of the living God.' "As she thus went on, her passions became roused, and flashed and darkened in her face with alternations so quick they mocked the sight. She spoke with the rapid tongue and impressive gesticulation of her country, and God's truth was stamped on every word. I felt it,--I knew it. She was no base, lying impostor. She was a wronged and suffering woman;--and he,--the idol of my soul,--the friend, lover, _husband_ of my youth,--no, no! he could not be a villain! She was mad,--ha, ha,--she was mad! Bursting into a wild, hysteric laugh, I sunk back on the sofa, repeating,-- "'Poor thing, she is mad! I wonder I did not know it sooner.'