The money with which I had liberally supplied Frank had induced him to enter with a youthful zest into the pleasures of life, and his dream of love for Evelyn had attenuated into a mere memory.  He was now a successful and courted artist.  I was possessed of another fact in reference to him—­that he was very much domesticated in an American family residing in the city, one of whose young lady members was greatly disposed, much to Frank’s satisfaction, to recompense to him whatever subtractions from his fund of love had previously been wasted on Evelyn.  Access to this family had been secured to Frank on my recommendation, given before they left America.  I conveyed Evelyn to their residence, and, after also inviting them to our proposed dinner, we returned to our temporary home.

I was careful not to intrude on Evelyn during the evening, leaving her alone to struggle with the melancholy which I knew the incidents of the day must induce.

Frank arrived early the next day.  Evelyn’s presence had evidently renewed the power of his former feelings.  Indeed, had opportunity offered, he was prepared to give way to them, but I was careful that none should be afforded.  When our other guests arrived he was thrown into unexpected confusion.  The conflict between the past and the present love—­the ideal and the real—­the shadow and the substance—­the memory and the actual—­was painful, yet ridiculous to look upon.  I calmly watched, without giving any symptom of observation, the results of my strategy, and never did a chess-player more rejoice over the issue of a hard-fought contest.  Evelyn, as I perceived, soon discovered all the circumstances, and I could trace the conflict of passions in her bosom—­the revulsion at Frank’s infidelity, yet the spontaneous acknowledgment of her heart that he had acted wisely.  She was also reflecting, I was confident, on the weakness that constrained him to abandon the worship of her image,—­however vain and unsatisfactory it might be,—­and to elevate on the altar of his affections such a goddess as supplied her place.  For the young female in whose service Frank was enrolled was a plump, merry and matter-of-fact girl, destitute of genius, though possessing all the qualities which adapt woman to fulfill the duties of the domestic relations.

My time for a final demonstration had now arrived.  In the despair of her abandonment, Evelyn must, either welcome me as her deliverer, or she must perish in her pride.  Death alone could sever us—­death alone furnished me a remedy for the deprivation of her love.

In one of the large, gloomy apartments of the dilapidated palace we occupied, I sat alone as the twilight was gathering.  My pistol case was on the table at my side.  I rang the bell, and directed the servant who answered it to desire Evelyn’s presence, and bring lights.  She soon appeared—­cold, passive, incurious, yet beneath this I could see the confined struggle of passion.