She stood all alone in her sympathy, facing us, cold and sceptical people.

But how she must have suffered!

Then recollect the pleasure it gave her to discuss religious and philosophical questions.  She was not “religious” in the common acceptation of the word.  But she liked to get to the bottom of things, and to use her imagination.  We others were indifferent, or frankly bored, by such matters.

And Lillie, who was so gentle and lacking in self-assertion, gave way to us.

Recall, too, her passion for flowers.  She felt a physical pang to see cut flowers with their stalks out of water.  Once I saw her buy up the whole stock-in-trade of a flower-girl, because the poor things wanted water.  Neither you nor your children have any love of flowers.  You, as a doctor, are inclined to think it unhealthy to have plants in your rooms; consequently there were none, and Lillie never grumbled about it.

Lillie did not care for modern music.  Cesar Franck bored her, and Wagner gave her a headache.  Her favourite instrument was an old harpsichord, on which she played Mozart, while her daughters thundered out Liszt and Rubinstein upon a concert grand, and you, dear Professor, when in a good humour, strode about the house whistling horribly out of tune.

Finally, Lillie liked quiet, musical speech, and she was surrounded by people who talked at the top of their voices.

“Absurd trifles,” I can hear you saying.  Perhaps.  But they explain the fact that although she was happy in a way, she still had many aspirations which were not only unsatisfied, but which, without meaning it unkindly, you daily managed to crush.

Lillie never blamed others.  When she found that you did not understand the things she cared for, she immediately tried to think she was in the wrong, and her well-balanced nature helped her to conquer her own predilections.

She was happy because she willed to be happy.  Once and for all she had made up her mind that she was the luckiest woman in existence; happy in every respect; and she was deeply grateful to you.

But in the depths of her heart—­so deeply buried that perhaps it never rose to the surface even in the form of a dream—­lay that secret something which led to the present misfortune.

I know nothing of her relations with Schlegel, but I think I may venture to say that they were chiefly limited to intercourse of the soul; and for that reason they were so fatal.

Have you ever observed the sound of Schlegel’s voice?  He spoke slowly and so softly; I can quite believe it attracted your wife in the beginning; and that afterwards, gradually, and almost imperceptibly, she gravitated towards him.  He possessed so many qualities that she admired and missed.

The man is now at death’s door, and can never explain to us what passed between them—­even admitting that there was anything blameworthy.  As far as I know, Schlegel was quite infatuated with a totally different woman.  Had he really been in love with Lillie, would he have been contented with a few words and an occasional pressure of her hand?  Therefore, since it is out of the question that your wife can have been unfaithful to you, I am inclined to think that Schlegel knew nothing of her feelings for him.