"If, madam, you have lost a dear friend, whom the Doctor attended in his last illness—but excuse me,—I regret that I trouble you, that I awaken sorrowful recollections."
"You have never, then, heard of my history?"
"No, madam."
"The Doctor was a great loss to me." The utterance was distinct, in defiance of the huge handkerchief.
"Were you in ill health at the time of his death?"
"I enjoyed very bad health—and he attended me—like—like——"
"A brother?"
"No brother could be so affectionate. Oh how often we sat together in this very room! Our hearts have been so full, that we were silent for half an hour together."
"The Doctor was very much attached to his last wife, was he not?"
"He married her after he was disappointed in another object of his affections. But it was not my fault. Things will cross one another sometimes, and make all go wrong. He said, when he gave me a bill one day,—that I was necessary to his existence. I shall never forget it. He did marry that girl—far too young for him. But I didn't blame him. I will not say any more. My feelings oppress me."