He had come alone, and been alone on the sea
and at the hotel.
Gretchen was a myth, or at least a mystery, though he still persisted
that she would arrive with every train from Boston; and for nearly a
week they humored him, and the carriage went to meet her, until at last
there seemed to dawn upon his mind the possibility of a mistake, and
when the carriage had made its twentieth trip for nothing, and Mr. St.
Claire, who was standing by him on the platform when the train came up
and brought no Gretchen, said to him:
'She did not come.'
'I am afraid she will never come,' he answered, sadly. 'No, she will
never come. There has been some mistake. She will never come. Poor
little Gretchen!' Then, after a moment he added, but there _is_ a
Gretchen, and I wrote to her to join me in Liverpool, and I thought she
did and was with me on the ship and in the train, but sometimes, when my
head is so hot, I get things mixed, and am not sure but--' and he looked
wistfully in his companion's face, while his voice trembled a little.
'Don't let them shut me up; I have a suspicion that they will try it,
but it will do no good. I was in an asylum nearly three years near
Vienna; went of my own accord, because of that heat in my head.'
'Been in an asylum?' Mr.
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