"You saw him," he exclaimed. "Then it was not Alice's fancy?"
"No, no—I could swear to him. He had followed us, and stood at the shop-window long before Alice observed him."
Henry looked extremely discomposed, and muttered something to himself; then turning to me, he said—
"That fellow has been desperately in love with Alice for years—since she was quite a child. Her grandmother turned him out of the house on that account three years ago. Just before our marriage took place, he made some outrageous scenes; I threatened to give him into custody, and warned Mrs. Tracy that I should do so. Two or three days after, she told me he had sailed for America, and from that day to this I had heard nothing more about him; but I must find out if she knows of his return. Perhaps she employs him as a spy. I shall let you know what I hear."
After a pause, I said, with a great effort—
"You must not write to me on any account; remember that, Henry. Edward will read all my letters; he is already in the habit of doing so."
"It was exceedingly foolish of you not to object to it. Pray, how am I to communicate with you if anything should occur to make it desirable? Is your maid to be trusted?"
I coloured with anger and with shame, and gave Henry a look of indignant reproach.
"I really beg your pardon if this offends you; but it is not for my own sake that I ask the question. You yourself employed a third person when you required my assistance."
"I was not married then, Henry; and deceit, contemptible as it always is, was not as guilty as it will henceforward be. For God's sake, spare me the shame of a secret correspondence. You need not be afraid of my being too happy, or of my forgetting that you hold my fate in your hands."