THE LADY OR THE SALMON? 113 



and which in my case was due, I trust, to hys- 

 terical but not unmanly emotion. If any woman, 

 any bride, could forgive such an apparent but most 

 unintentional insult, Olive Dunne, I knew, was not 

 that woman. My abject letters of explanation, 

 my appeals for mercy, were returned unopened. 

 Her parents pitied me, perhaps had reasons for 

 being on my side, but Olive was of marble. It is 

 not only myself that she cannot pardon, she will 

 never, I know, forgive herself while my existence 

 reminds her of what she had to endure. When 

 she receives the intelligence of my demise, no 

 suspicion will occur to her ; she will not say " He 

 is fitly punished ; " but her peace of mind will 

 gradually return. 



' It is for this, mainly, that I sacrifice myself, but 

 also because I cannot endure the dishonour of a 

 laggard in love and a recreant bridegroom. 



' So much for my motives : now to my tale. 



' The day before our wedding-day had been the 

 happiest in my life. Never had I felt so certain of 

 Olive's affections, never so fortunate in my own. 

 We parted in the soft moonlight ; she, no doubt, 



I 



