When she claimed her unhappy husband he was in delicate health.

The shock killed him.

His widow--I can't, and won't, speak of her misfortune as if it was her fault--knew of no living friends who were in a position to help her.
Not a great artist with a wonderful voice, she could still trust to her musical accomplishments to provide for the necessities of life.

Plead as I might with her to forget the past, I always got the same reply: 'If I was base enough to let myself be tempted by the happy future that you offer, I should deserve the unmerited disgrace which has fallen on me.
Marry a woman whose reputation will bear inquiry, and forget me.' I was mad enough to press my suit once too often.

When I visited her on the next day she was gone.