“What is true?  Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Olga bent forward, put her large hands on Regina’s shoulders as the latter knelt in front of her, and answered drearily: 

“He is married.”

“Not Mr. Eggleston?”

“Yes, my Belmont.  For so many years he has been entirely mine, and oh, how I loved him!  Now he is that woman’s husband.  Bought with her gold.  I intended to run away and marry him; go with him to Europe, where I should never see Erle Palma’s cold devilish black eyes again.  Where in some humble little room hid among the mountains, I could be happy with my darling.  I sold my jewellery, even my richest clothing, that I might have a little money to defray expenses.  Then I wrote Belmont of my plans, told him I had forsaken everything for him, and appointed a place in this city where we could meet.  I hastened down from Albany, disguised myself, and went to the place of rendezvous.  After waiting a long time, his cousin came; brought me a letter, showed me the marriage notice.  Only two days ago they—­Belmont and that woman—­were married, and they sailed for Europe at noon to-day, in the steamer upon which I had expected to go as a bride.  He wrote that with failing health, penury staring him in the face, and, despairing at last of being able to win me, he had grown reckless, and sold himself to that wealthy widow who had long loved him, and who would provide generously for his helpless mother.  He said he dared not trust himself to see me again.  And so, all is over for ever.”

She dropped her head on her clenched hands, and shuddered.  “Dear Olga, he was not worthy of you, or he would never have deserted you.  If he truly loved you, he never could have married another, for——­”

She paused, for the shimmer of the diamonds on her hand accused her.  Was she not contemplating similar treachery?  Loving one man, how dare she entertain the thought of listening to another’s suit.  She was deeply and sincerely attached to Douglass, she reverenced him more than any living being; but she knew that it was not the same feeling her heart had declared for her guardian, and she felt condemned by her own words.

Olga made an impatient motion, and answered: 

“Hush—­not a word against him; none shall dishonour him.  He was maddened, desperate.  My poor darling!  Erle Palma and mamma were too much for us, but we shall conquer at last.  Belmont will not live many months; he had a hemorrhage from his lungs last week, and in a little while we shall be united.  He will not long wait to join me.”

She leaned back and smiled triumphantly, and Regina became uneasy as she noted the unnatural expression of her eyes.

“What do you mean, Olga?  You make me unhappy, and I am afraid you are ill.”

“No, dear; but I am tired.  So tired of everything in this hollow, heartless, shameful world, that I want to lie down and rest.  For eight years nearly I have leaned on one hope for comfort; now it has crumbled under me, and I have no strength.  Will you let me sleep here with you to-night?  I will not keep you awake.”