"I know that, you are poor, and I send you all I can spare—the ring you once gave to me. I am even poorer than yourself, but I have just enough for my last necessities. I forgive you, as I trust that God forgives me."
There was no more to be said or done. Conviction had been brought home to me. I rose to take my leave, and Foster held out his hand to me, perhaps with a kindly intention. Olivia's ring was glittering on it, and I could not take it into mine.
"Well, well," he said, "I understand; I am sorry for you. Come again, Dr. Martin Dobrée. If you know of any remedy for my ease, you are no true man if you do not try it."
I went down the narrow staircase, closely followed by Mrs. Foster. Her face had lost its gayety and boldness, and looked womanly and careworn, as she laid her hand upon my arm before opening the house-door.
"For God's sake, come again," she said, "if you can do any thing for him! We have money left yet, and I am earning more every day. We can pay you well. Promise me you will come again."
"I can promise nothing to-night," I answered.
"You shall not go till you promise," she said, emphatically.
"Well, then, I promise," I answered, and she unfastened the chain almost noiselessly, and opened the door into the street.