“Will you read the letter aloud?” added Mrs. O’Hara, as he was turning it over, and he began at once: “MY DEAR AUNT----” [He always called her “aunt,” put in Norah, parenthetically.] “A more miserable man than I does not exist. Lady Teignmouth has thrown me over, as you warned me that she would when it suited her purpose; you know how desperately I loved her; you also know how she has kept me dangling at her skirts all these years, luring me on to destruction with her sweet, false eyes. Life is nothing to me without her, and, though she has sworn so often that she loved me, she laughed me to scorn when I suggested that she and I might be happy together in another country. You will say all this is very wrong, aunt. Pauline is another man’s wife; but my only excuse is that the first time we met I believed her to be free, and she did not undeceive me, although she must have seen that I was badly smitten, and ready to make a dolt of myself at her bidding. Now it has gone so far that I could not draw back if I would, and I would not if I could. You will scarcely understand such mad infatuation, but I am not the only man who has preferred to put an end to his existence rather than live without the woman he loved. I am to meet Pauline to-night, and with a few words from her lips my fate will be decided. When this reaches you I may be beyond the reach of everything but your prayers, but I know that even if the whole world condemn me, you will always--always have a kind word, and a kind thought, for the boy you reared, although he died a guilty, despairing man. GEORGE BELMONT. “Turoy, 2d August, 19--.” “You see that the poor, unhappy fellow took his own life in his despair,” said Norah, wiping her eyes furtively. “He always spoke to me very admiringly of Lady Teignmouth, but I had no idea that he cared for her like that, or I would have saved him, somehow.” “Do you intend to make any use of this letter?” inquired Colonel Dacre quietly. “No; I have had enough of revenge for the present. If Lady Teignmouth were to come in my way, I should probably tax her with her deceit and perfidy, because, you know, I never can keep things in; but we are not likely to meet, and meanwhile you may have the letter if you will promise to take care of it that I may have it for reference later, if required.” This Colonel Dacre readily guaranteed, and then he turned to Mrs. O’Hara, and said: “And now about yourself, Norah? What are you doing here?” “Nothing in particular.” “I heard you were going to be married to a Russian prince.” She colored furiously. “Who told you that?” “Some fellow we met at Nice, but I can’t for the life of me remember his name. I wouldn’t believe it, but Gwen said it was just the sort of thing you would do.” “Why?” she inquired sharply, keeping her face averted as she spoke. “Well, she thought you would not care for a quiet, humdrum life in England.”