"If I were free. You thought I was--you saw me in mourning. I never meant to make you, or any one, believe a lie. All I thought of at first was getting away from the old life. But, oh, Nick, though I'm not a widow, I was never any man's wife except in name. I'm Franklin Merriam's daughter--you must have heard of him. And when I was seventeen I married Prince Paolo di Sereno. That very day I found out there was--some one who had more right to him that I had. She came, and threatened to kill herself. You see, it was not me, it was money he cared for. But he hated me for saying I would be his wife only in the eyes of the world. That made him so angry, that he has spent his life since in taking revenge. When my mother died, nearly a year ago, I made up my mind to leave him altogether, and I did as soon as I could. I gave him more than half the money, so he didn't care, for he'd grown quite indifferent; and I took the name of 'May.' It is one of my names really. I was so glad to be some one else and come to a new country to begin a new life! It never entered my head that I could fall in love with any one--that there might be complications in my plan. It seemed so simple. All I wanted was peace and a quiet life, with a few kind people round me. Then--_you_ came. At first I didn't realize what was happening to me--for it had never happened before. But soon I might have seen if I hadn't closed my eyes and drifted. I was happy. I didn't want you to go out of my life. Then came the Yosemite, with you, and--I couldn't close my eyes any more. I saw my own heart. I thought--I saw yours. Now you understand, Nick, why I told you it was impossible for you and me to be anything more to each other than friends. It was you who said we couldn't be friends. And you know--I _want_ you to know--that it's as hard for me as it can be for you, because I love you." She had hurried on to get it all over, not daring to look at him until just at the end. When he did not speak she had to look at last, and see his bowed head--the dear black head that she loved. "Oh!" she murmured. "I ought never to have gone with you to the Yosemite. If I hadn't, you would have forgotten me by this time--perhaps." "No," said Nick. "I'd not have forgotten you. Not if I'd never seen you again after that first day in New York. You see, you were my ideal. Every man has one, I guess. And I just recognized you, the first minute, in the hall of the hotel. I didn't expect to know you--and yet, somehow, it was as if I couldn't let you go--even then. _Have_ I got to let you go, now, after what you've told me? You're not the wife of that man--that prince, except in law. You don't love him, and you do love me--you say you do. Why, that makes you already more mine than his." "Heart and spirit, I'm all yours," Angela said. "Oh, Nick, I don't love you, I worship you, you--_man!_ I never thought there were men like you. I don't believe there are any more. Paolo di Sereno is--a mere husk."