"I do not wish to deny it," returned Isabel firmly, "but you out to have known me better than to think that I should continue to do so. After you were married it became my duty to forget that I had ever loved you, and to banish every thought of you. You have made your choice and now regrets are useless, even wrong, whatever she may be, she is your wife, and it is your duty and should be your pleasure to make her happy, and as you value happiness, never give her cause to doubt your love." "As you say, regrets are useless, but that thought only adds to my torture, I can only compare my present wretchedness with the happy lot which might have been mine, but for my own folly," he said sadly, "but you must help me." "How can I help you," exclaimed Isabel. "It is you alone who can, for you are the only person who ever had any influence over me, you must help to keep me right. Will you not forgive me Isabel, and let me be a friend--a brother." "Thank heaven I have no such brother," exclaimed Isabel fervently, "for I should feel very much inclined to disown him if I had. Friends we can never be Dr. Taschereau, as I told you before, whenever and wherever we meet, it must be as strangers." "As you will," he said bitterly, "but since you will not have me for your friend, you shall have me for a foe." "Think not to intimidate me with idle threats," she answered haughtily, "you have no power to harm me, and I feel assured that as your love is worthless, so in the end your hatred will prove harmless." "That is as it may be, but still I had much rather that we were friends." "If an enemy, I defy you, my friend you can never be." "As you will," he returned fiercely, "but remember if I go to the bad, with you will rest the blame," and then he disappeared through the wood. "And what is his wife about during this conversation, writing to her cousin. Let us take a peep at the letter.