“‘I took her hand in mine--it was as cold as ice, and her face was deadly pale; I started to leave her. I had gone about twenty paces from her, when I heard a groan--such a groan of despair as never before broke on my ear! It was not loud, but sounded like the knell of death to me. I hastened back, and found Viola lying on the ground, apparently dead, her temple stained with blood, that came from a severe wound which she had received from falling against a corner of the bench. For a moment I was paralyzed with horror, the first thought that occurred to my mind being that she had committed suicide. But Lottie had heard the groan, and came running to ascertain the cause. She sat down and placed Viola’s head on her lap, and began to wipe the blood from her temple. “‘“Bring water--quick, Harry!” said Lottie. “‘I hastened to the house, seized a bucket of water, and was back in a moment. Lottie sprinkled Viola’s face and bathed her temples, and in a short time signs of returning life were appearing. I was gratified to find that the wound was not serious, and that all danger was over. I lifted Viola in my arms and carried her to the house, having my bosom stained with her precious blood. She did not open her eyes at all while I was carrying her to the house; but I saw tears falling rapidly from them. I whispered a few words to Lottie, by way of directing her what course to pursue, as I placed Viola on a sofa, and fled like a coward from the premises. I know you will condemn my conduct, and I know I deserve it; but, as God in Heaven is my judge, I meant to do nothing wrong. My reason was overthrown by my intense passion. You have been in love yourself, and can readily understand how love can steal away one’s reason. Who can love as I love Viola, and then be discreet? Who can retain his senses when his blood is boiling in his veins and his brain on fire? I confess my conduct was shameful, disgraceful and cowardly. I should never have placed myself under the influence of her charms--I should have kept my love for her a secret, but in her presence I could not do it. I have sworn a solemn oath that I would never ask her to marry me while I am penniless and she so rich. I thought I was right then, and I have never changed my mind. Having made that resolve, it was criminal in me to act as I did. I think I shall go to California soon, because I cannot endure the torture that will be mine if I remain near her. I am foolish enough--call it vanity, if you please--to think that if I were in California I might make a fortune in a few years; then I could claim Viola’s hand without feeling degraded in my own estimation. I never, until lately, cared to be rich, but now I would make any sacrifice, endure any hardship, to accumulate wealth.