We were both so young and so fiery-blooded, so--Ah! what need to go over the old, old grounds?
There was one hour of mad, brief bliss, parting and forgetfulness.

I forgot.

Life was a long, idle summer holiday to me.
But she never forgot--never forgave! You remember the woman, Olivia, who burst into the church on the day of our boy's christening--the woman who died in the sexton's house?
That woman was Zenith--old and withered, and maddened by her wrongs--that woman who died cursing me and mine.

A girl, dark and fierce, and terrible as herself, stood by her to the last, lingered at her grave to vow deathless revenge--her daughter and mine!" The faint voice ceased an instant.

The fluttering spirit rallied, and resumed: "I have reason to know that daughter was married.