"I have told you," she said, "how hard my childhood was, how lonely and desolate and miserable I was with my girl's heart full of love and no one to love.
"When I was eighteen I went to live with a very wealthy family in London, the name—I will not hide one detail from you—the name was Cleveland; they had one little girl, and I was her governess. I went with them to their place in the country, and there a visitor came to them, a handsome young nobleman, Lord Dacius by name.
"It was a beautiful sunlit county. I had little to do, plenty of leisure, and he could do as he would with his time. We had met and had fallen in love with each other. I did not love him, I idolized him; remember in your judgment that no one had ever loved me. No one had ever kissed my face and said kind words to me; and I, oh! wretched, miserable me, I was in Heaven. To be loved for the first time, and by one so handsome, so charming, so fascinating! A few weeks passed like a dream. I met him in the early morning, I met him in the gloaming. He swore a hundred times each day that he would marry me when he came of age. We must wait until then. I never dreamed of harm or wrong, I believed in him implicitly, as I loved him. I believe every word that came from his lips. May Heaven spare me! I need tell you no more. A girl of eighteen madly, passionately in love; a girl as ignorant as any girl could be, and a handsome, experienced man of the world.
"There was no hope, no chance. I fell; yet almost without knowing how I had fallen. You will spare me the rest, I know.
"When in my sore anguish and distress, I went to him, I thought he would marry me at once; I thought he would be longing only to make me happy again; to comfort me; to solace me; to make amends for all I had suffered. I went to him in London with my heart full of longing and love. I had left my situation, and my stern, cruel grandmother believed that I had found another. If I lived to be a thousand years old I should never forget my horror and surprise. He had worshipped me; he had sworn a thousand times over that he would marry me; he had loved me with the tenderest love.
"Now, when after waiting some hours, I saw him last, he frowned at me; there was no kiss, no caress, no welcome.
"'This is a nice piece of news,' he said. 'This comes of country visiting.'
"'But you love me?—you love me?' I cried.
"'I did, my dear,' he said, 'but, of course, that died with Summer. One does not speak of what is dead.'
"'Do you not mean to marry me?' I asked.