acknowledging your kindness, is to place you in the same position
toward me which the other ladies now occupy. The circumstances
under which I have become the wife of Mr. Germaine are, in some
respects, very remarkable. They are related, without suppression
or reserve, in a little narrative which my husband wrote, at the
time of our marriage, for the satisfaction of one of his absent
relatives, whose good opinion he was unwilling to forfeit. The
manuscript is in this portfolio. After what has happened, I ask
you both to read it, as a personal favor to me. It is for you to
decide, when you know all, whether I am a fit person for an
honest woman to associate with or not."

She held out her hand, with a sweet, sad smile, and bid us good
night. My wife, in her impulsive way, forgot the formalities
proper to the occasion, and kissed her at parting. At that one
little act of sisterly sympathy, the fortitude which the poor
creature had preserved all through the evening gave way in an
instant. She burst into tears.

I felt as fond of her and as sorry for her as my wife. But
(unfortunately) I could not take my wife's privilege of kissing
her. On our way downstairs, I found the opportunity of saying a
cheering word to her husband as he accompanied us to the door.

"Before I open this," I remarked, pointing to the portfolio under
my arm, "my mind is made up, sir, about one thing. If I wasn't
married already, I tell you this--I should envy you your wife."

He pointed to the portfolio in his turn.