At first they tried what fair words and flattery would do with me.  Then they changed their tactics.  They brought me over to London, where not a creature knew me.  They made me a prisoner in dull, dreary rooms, where I had no employment and no resources.  That is, the woman did it.  My husband, after settling us in a house in London, disappeared, and I saw no more of him.  I know now he wished to keep himself irresponsible for my imprisonment.  She would have been the scape-goat, had any legal difficulties arisen.  He was anxious to retain all his rights over me.

I can see how subtle he was.  Though my life was a daily torture, there was positively nothing I could put into words against him—­nothing that would have authorized me to seek a legal separation.  I did not know any thing of the laws, how should I? except the fact which he dinned into my ears that he could compel me to live with him.  But I know now that the best friends in the world could not have saved me from him in any other way than the one I took.  He kept within the letter of the law.  He forfeited no atom of his claim upon me.

Then God took me by the hand, and led me into a peaceful and untroubled refuge, until I had gathered strength again.

CHAPTER THE SECOND.

ON THE WING AGAIN.

How should I see that Dr. Martin Dobree was falling in love with me?  I was blind to it; strangely blind those wise people will think, who say a woman always knows when a man loves her.  I knew so well that all my life was shut out from the ordinary hopes and prospects of girlhood, that I never realized the fact that to him I was a young girl whom he might love honorably, were he once set free from his engagement to his cousin Julia.

I had not looked for any trouble of that kind.  He had been as kind to me as any brother could have been—­kind, and chivalrous, and considerate.  The first time I saw him I was weak and worn out with great pain, and my mind seemed wandering.  His face came suddenly and distinctly before me; a pleasant face, though neither handsome nor regular in features.  It possessed great vivacity and movement, changing readily, and always full of expression.  He looked at me so earnestly and compassionately, his dark eyes seeming to search for the pain I was suffering, that I felt perfect confidence in him at once.  I was vaguely conscious of his close attendance, and unremitting care, during the whole week that I lay ill.  All this placed us on very pleasant terms of familiarity and friendship.

How grieved I was when this friendship came to an end—­when he confessed his unfortunate love to me—­it is impossible for me to say.  Such a thought had never crossed my mind.  Not until I saw the expression on his face, when he called to us from the shore to wait for him, and waded eagerly through the water to us, and held my hands fast as I helped him into the boat—­not till then did I suspect his secret.  Poor Martin!