He has been so good, so kind, so patient with me.

He told me of my mother, of the children, of you, and, oh, how he chafed at the thought of what you would feel about the affair.

Every time we met he reproached me with my cowardice and delay, and I made fresh promises; but Arthur's letters invariably broke down my courage and destroyed my resolutions.

Again and again John has asked me to allow him to tell you who I was, but I would not suffer it.

I could see no reason for humbling myself sooner to you than to anyone else, until one day it flashed on me that you were jealous of me.