"Ah!" she sighed, "let us hope so, dearest. Yet this strange presage of coming evil, this shadow which I so often seem to see, appears so real, so grim, and so threatening." "I don't understand why you should entertain any fear," he exclaimed. "I love you, Jean; I shall always love you." She was silent, and he saw that something troubled her. Truth to tell, the shadow of her past had once again arisen. "Ah! But will you always love me as fondly as you now do?" she asked, rather dubiously. "I shall, Jean. I swear it. I love no other woman but yourself, my dear, devoted wife." "Many men have uttered those same words before. But they have lived to recall and regret them." "That is true," he said. "Yet it is also true that I love you with all my heart and all my soul, and, further, that my love is so deep-rooted that it cannot be shaken." "We can only hope," she said in a low voice, sighing again. "Though my happiness is so complete, I somehow cannot put this constant dread from me. It is a strange, mysterious feeling that something will one day happen to sweep away all my hopes and aspirations--that you and I might be parted." "Impossible, darling!" he cried, starting to his feet; and standing behind her, he placed his arm tenderly around her neck. "What could ever happen that would part us?" Then the thought flashed across his mind. Her past was enveloped in complete mystery, which, true to his word, he had never sought to probe. "We never know what trials may be in store for us," she remarked. "We never know what misfortunes may befall us, or what misunderstandings may arise to destroy our mutual affection and part us." "But surely you don't anticipate such a calamity?" he asked, looking into her handsome countenance, his eyes fixed upon hers. "Well, I--I hardly anticipate it, yet I cannot get rid of this ever-increasing dread of the future which seems so constantly to obsess me." "Ah, I think it may be your nerves, darling," he remarked. "You had a great strain placed upon you by the London season. All those entertainments of yours must have run you down. You must go to Monplaisir. The bracing air there will benefit you, no doubt. Here, in Devon, it is highly relaxing." "No, it is not my nerves," she protested. "It is my natural intuition. Most women can scent impending danger." He was inclined to laugh at her fears, and bent again to kiss her upon the cheek. "Take no heed of such unpleasant forebodings," he exclaimed cheerily. "I, too, sometimes look upon the darker side of things, yet of late I've come to the conclusion that it is utterly useless to meet trouble half-way. Sufficient the day when misfortune falls." "But surely we ought always to try and evade it?" "If you are foredoomed to misfortune, it cannot be evaded," he declared. "That is exactly my argument," she replied. "I feel that one day ere long a dark shadow, perhaps of suspicion, I know not what, will fall between us."