Yet, on the whole, there was a certain sweetness in feeling myself not altogether cut off from womanly love and sympathy.  There was a home always open to me—­a home, and a wife devotedly attached to me, whenever I chose to claim them.  That was not unpleasant as a prospect.  As soon as this low fever of the spirit was over, there was a convalescent hospital to go to, where it might recover its original tone and vigor.  At present the fever had too firm and strong a hold for me to pronounce myself convalescent; but if I were to believe all that sages had said, there would come a time when I should rejoice over my own recovery.

Early in the spring I received a letter from Julia, desiring me to look out for apartments, somewhere in my neighborhood, for herself, and Johanna and Captain Carey.  They were coming to London to spend two or three months of the season.  I had not had any task so agreeable since I left Guernsey.  Jack was hospitably anxious for them to come to our own house, but I knew they would not listen to such a proposal.  I found some suitable rooms for them, however, in Hanover Street, where I could be with them at any time in five minutes.

On the appointed day I met them at Waterloo Station, and installed them in their new apartments.

It struck me that, notwithstanding the fatigue of the journey, Julia was looking better and happier than I had seen her look for a long time.  Her black dress suited her, and gave her a style which she never had in colors.  Her complexion looked dark, but not sallow; and her brown hair was certainly more becomingly arranged.  Her appearance was that of a well-bred, cultivated, almost elegant woman, of whom no man need be ashamed.  Johanna was simply herself, without the least perceptible change.  But Captain Carey again looked ten years younger, and was evidently taking pains with his appearance.  That suit of his had never been made in Guernsey; it must have come out of a London establishment.  His hair was not so gray, and his face was less hypochondriac.  He assured me that his health had been wonderfully good all the winter.  I was more than satisfied, I was proud of all my friends.

“We want you to come and have a long talk with us to-morrow,” said Johanna; “it is too late to-night.  We shall be busy shopping in the morning, but can you come in the evening?”

“Oh, yes,” I answered; “I am at leisure most evenings, and I count upon spending them with you.  I can escort you to as many places of amusement as you wish to visit.”

“To-morrow, then,” she said, “we shall take tea at eight o’clock.”

I bade them good-night with a lighter heart than I had felt for a long while.  I held Julia’s hand the longest, looking into her face earnestly, till it flushed and glowed a little under my scrutiny.

“True heart!” I said to myself, “true and constant! and I have nothing, and shall have nothing, to offer it but the ashes of a dead passion.  Would to Heaven,” I thought as I paced along Brook Street, “I had never been fated to see Olivia!”