“Yes—or I had been ill and was getting better and had told Mrs. Rochester one day that I must return to Paris. She replied that she would arrange for me to go the next day. I had only sat up once or twice, but I told myself that if I intended to go away the next day I must begin to exercise and gain a little more strength. I was in Sarah’s room, and when I thought no one was about I got up and tried to walk. I steadied myself by the furniture and went into Mrs. Rochester’s room—you know how they were situated—when my strength gave out and I had to sit down. Presently I heard voices in the parlor—your voice and hers; you were telling her of your love; you had never addressed me with a tithe of the passion and earnestness that you used with her. You told her that you had loved her from the moment of your first meeting, and you begged her to assure you of her love for you, in spite of that unnatural contract which would have consigned her to a man whether she could love him or not——” “You need not tell me any more, Salome,” Dr. Winthrop interposed, laying his fingers softly upon her quivering lips to stop the miserable recital. “I understand it all now. But would it be too much to ask you to believe—could you credit me if I should tell you that I never uttered the words that you have repeated—that I never held Miss Rochester in my arms or touched her lips with mine?” Salome drew in a deep breath of astonishment, and lifted a wondering glance to his face. Nothing but grave and earnest truth was written there, and she began to question within herself whether that scene, which had been so indelibly stamped upon her heart, could have been a vision—a mere chimera of the brain. “Oh, if I had not seen you!” she cried, a puzzled look in her eyes, an eager longing in her tones. CHAPTER XLIII. SALOME RELATES SOMETHING OF HER PREVIOUS HISTORY. Dr. Winthrop was not hurt by his wife’s apparent doubt. He simply folded her closer in his arms and smiled fondly down upon her. “Can it be possible that, during all the time you were at the chateau, you never saw my brother?” he remarked after a moment. “No; I never saw him except once or twice in the distance, and then I had but a glimpse, and at dusk, when I was taking the air for a few moments. I supposed it was your brother, for he was with Madame Winthrop and your sister,” Salome replied. “I remember now that he did not come often to my rooms during my illness,” said Dr. Winthrop reflectively. “Doubtless,” he thought to himself, “he was improving the time to make love to Miss Rochester.” “You recollect that Mr. Tillinghast would not leave you when you were extremely ill except for needed rest, and we did not think it best to have too many around you; and then, when you began to improve, you are aware that your brother went away with your mother and sister,” Salome responded, but not comprehending just why Dr. Winthrop had spoken of this.