But even this mood, this desire to be at rest, passed after a time. “I have one true and honest friend,” she thought. “Harriet, at least, is faithful to me; I will go back to her, and when I get strong again, we will take up our work together once more. I can at least do some good with this money that Miss Leonard has given me, if I cannot be happy.” She fell asleep soon after, and did not awake until some one touched her upon the shoulder. Her eyes flashed open with a startled look, and she found Miss Rochester standing over her, a cruel smile wreathing her lips, and she sat up shivering as she recalled where she had last seen her. “Well, Miss Howland, alias Sister Angela, alias—well, no matter who else—were you edified by the tableau that you witnessed a while ago from the other room?” The girl had caught sight of Salome as she was fleeing from the scene, and her quick mind had grasped the situation at once, and she had resolved to use the circumstance to further her own schemes. Salome flushed hotly. “I did not know there was any one in the room,” she faltered. “Well, after what you have seen, you surely can have no desire to claim Dr. Winthrop as your husband—even if he were willing to——” “No—no!” interposed Salome, a note of agony in her tones; “if the marriage was illegal, as you have all told me, I have now no wish to have it ratified; even if it had been legal I should wish to have it annulled—I would wish to hold no man bound who was ashamed to own me as his wife—who loved and desired to marry another.” “Do you really mean that, Salome?” Miss Rochester demanded, in a tone of repressed eagerness. “If so, you can prove it.” “Yes, I mean it. How can I prove it more fully?” she asked, with white lips. “By writing a letter that I will dictate. Will you?” “To—to him?” the young wife stammered, a terrible sinking at her heart. “Not for the world? Are you a fool?” cried her companion, with a start and frown. Then she continued, “you know that I am going to marry him——” “And commit a fearful wrong,” interposed Salome sternly. “What is that to you, since you do not want him yourself? I shall have to answer for my own sins,” was the rude retort. “But I could prevent it. Oh, perhaps it is my duty to prevent it,” cried Salome, in distress. “You will not dare!” cried Miss Rochester fiercely. “I should dare, if I believed it right,” Salome said firmly, “but under the circumstances I cannot—matters must adjust themselves as they will.” “And you will write the letter I desire?” she eagerly questioned. “I must know just what you want before I promise.” “Well, since I am to marry Dr. Winthrop,” Miss Rochester began, “I cannot help feeling a little squeamish about the ceremony which you two went through. Of course Dr. Winthrop believes that he is doubly free, for he thinks you are dead, and you do not wish to undeceive him?” “No,” but the white lips quivered painfully.