His own mother, otherwise a strong, sensible woman, agreed to everything, so great was her anxiety about her son.
In another week they had started for Europe, and I have accounted to you the strange manner in which their names appeared on the ship's register. It served as a safeguard against inquisitive people, and every one took it for granted that they were mother and son—and she a widow.
Immediately they landed they met an old friend of hers, and thus began a series of explanations, for her friend knew she had no son.
Fortunately this woman was a brave, true friend, and her advice was so heroic that the bride was speechless before such fearlessness.
She said to her: "You must stop all this foolishness at once. There is absolutely no excuse for such deceit. One falsehood paves the way for hundreds of others. It has already cost you the loss of your peace of mind and it is the cause of your husband's continued illness. How can you expect him to be strong, while living a lie?"
This last statement was pretty hard to accept, but it proved that her liking for her young husband had grown into love, for her one desire was to see him well and strong.
Her pride, however, stood in her way and she must have advice. Everything else the friend said was true, for already her day had become a hideous nightmare with this constant fear of meeting some one whom she knew. And this is why she sent her footman for me the day of the concert in the Pincian Gardens.
She explained that she had heard Ruth and me discussing points in ontology on the ship, and wanted to ask me if what her friend said was true. She told me the story just as I have told it to you, not naming herself. I divined at once it was her own, but did not let her feel that I had perceived it, and for answer I said:
"How I should love to meet that friend! Most assuredly she is right. Falsehood and deceit bring nothing but suffering. Send word to that poor foolish woman at once that you too are opposed to her living a lie any longer."
It was listening to this tale that made me forget the crowd, the perfume of the flowers, and even the exquisite music of the King's band.