He folded her in his arms and kissed her lips, but she turned from him, and rising from the seat stood before him very pale, and trembling, while the secret thoughts of her heart, that she would fain have hidden for ever, but could not in that weak moment conceal, were revealed to him in her passionate words. "Yes, I love you! I will die soon, so it cannot matter much that I tell you this. I love you! but this must be the last time I see you. We two cannot love each other--oh, that I could tell you: and then be clasped in your arms and die there straightaway--die in your arms dear!--for I cannot tell you and live. Oh, how delicious it would be--oh, my love!" she clenched her fists and looked up to the skies--"do not raise these visions of Paradise to me--only to madden me with the contrast between them and what must be--glimpses of Heaven through the black clouds of Hell." She paused and began to weep. Her lover stood by her with both her hands in his. He was about to say what little he could to comfort her, when she snatched her hands from his and exclaimed, as she wiped her eyes with her handkerchief, "Come away, let us go, Dr. Duncan. I can bear no more of this." They walked along the path in silence for a few minutes, she with a heart aching with its misery, he puzzled, not knowing what to make of her behaviour, and feeling a strange mixture of joy and sorrow. At last he spoke, and there was a triumphant ring in his voice. "Mary, you _shall_ be mine! We love each other. In that all-absorbing love we will forget all your secret whatever it may be." He went on in fierce accents, carried away by his passion. "Yes, Mary! in spite of crime, or madness, or the power of hell, it shall be--Oh, my dear! my dear!..." At that moment Mary interrupted him with a slight exclamation, and at the same time put her hand on his arm in order to draw his attention. He looked up and saw very inopportunely tripping towards them, with her usual jaunty step, the plump figure of Susan Riley. This young lady's keen glance detected in the looks of the two lovers that some serious conversation had been going on. "Good morning, doctor," she said as he lifted his hat and bowed. "Good morning, Mary. Good gracious! how glum you look. You seem quite ill; doesn't she, doctor? Why, what's the matter with you?" "I am perfectly well, thank you, Susan." "I think Miss King requires a change." "I have told her so," remarked Dr. Duncan. "By-the-bye, Mary!" exclaimed Susan, "something very curious has happened which concerns you. An old friend of yours has been asking for you." "An old friend of mine?" "Yes! and a gentleman, too; but I will not keep you in suspense. They brought in a man suffering from delirium tremens last night, a very bad case. He is a young man, and has the appearance of a gentleman. No one knows who he is. He has no card on him: his linen is unmarked. Well, he called out your name several times this morning." "My name!"