“Very likely,” interrupted Miss Rochester, with a sarcastic sneer; “but that costly sacrifice has not been required of you. And now, since your identity has been revealed, it is but natural that I should object to your remaining longer in the capacity of nurse to the man whom I expect to marry.” Salome’s face grew deadly white again at this poisoned shaft; but she drew herself up with dignity. “Your objection would have no weight with me. I should remain if I considered it my duty to do so,” she said coldly. “Perhaps it has been your intention to reveal yourself to Doctor Winthrop and try to ingratiate yourself with him again,” was the rude retort. “No, no!” Salome cried, trembling with fear at the thought, and trying to adjust her disguise more securely, while she searched again for her glasses. “He must never know that I have been here!” “Ah, then you have some sense of shame! I am glad to know that you do not wish to thrust yourself upon him again, after having once been discarded from his home——” “Stop! oh, stop!” Salome interrupted, as she tottered to her feet in her agony, putting out her hand appealingly at this taunt. “I have never wanted to thrust myself upon him; but I was wild when they came and told me that he had at last fallen a prey to the disease from which he had saved so many; he himself sent for me, and I had to come. I have saved him—a second time I have saved his life—my work is done, and I will go. I had told him I was going to-day,” she concluded; but her lips were livid with agony at the thought of again leaving the man whom she still loved with all the strength of her soul. “Where will you go?” demanded Mrs. Rochester. “Back to my work in the hospitals and among the poor, when I am a little rested,” the wretched girl replied, but with such a sense of utter desolation as she had never before experienced. “Are you really a nun? Have you taken convent vows upon you?” suddenly inquired Miss Rochester, as it occurred to her that if she had regularly devoted herself to the life, that fact might of itself make her marriage with Dr. Winthrop null and void. But she was destined to be disappointed, for Salome briefly answered: “No.” “Then why have you assumed their dress—why do you masquerade in their robes?” “To protect myself—it gives me security and liberty in going about my work, for no one dares molest or ill-treat a nun.” “How do you happen to be in Paris at this time?” Miss Rochester demanded, regarding her with suspicion. “Excuse me; but I am not accountable to you for my movements,” Salome responded coldly. Miss Rochester gave a mocking laugh.