"
"I shouldn't wonder in the least," responded the young, lady, coolly. "I
never knew how much I liked poor dear Hugh until I gave him his _cong?_.
He's so very, very, very handsome, you see, Miriam; and I adore beauty."
"Very well. Find out if it's he--and find out at once."
"More easily said than done, isn't it?"
"Not at all. You don't suppose he has left the city?"
"No. He told me that he would not leave--that he would remain and watch
me, unseen and unknown."
"Then, if you advertise--if you address him through the medium of the
daily papers--he will see and answer your advertisement."
"Very probably. But he isn't going to tell me who he is. If he had any
intention of doing so, he would have done it last week."
Miriam shook her head.
"I'm not so sure about that. You never asked him to reveal himself. You
gave him no reason to suppose you would do otherwise than scorn and
flout him, let him be who he might. It is different now. If it is Hugh
Ingelow, you will forgive him all?"
"Miriam, see here: why are you so anxious I should forgive this man?"
"Because I want to see you some respectable man's wife; because I want
to see you safely settled in life, and no longer left to your own
caprices, or those of Carl Walraven.
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