The　Queen　of　Hearts
  by　Wilkie　Collins
  LETTER　OF　DEDICATION。
  …
  TO
  EMILE　FORGUES。
  …
  AT　a　time　when　French　readers　were　altogether　unaware　of　the
  existence　of　any　books　of　my　writing；　a　critical　examination　of
  my　novels　appeared　under　your　signature　in　the　_Revue　des　Deux
  Moudes_。　I　read　that　article；　at　the　time　of　its　appearance；　with
  sincere　pleasure　and　sincere　gratitude　to　the　writer；　and　I　have
  honestly　done　my　best　to　profit　by　it　ever　since。
  At　a　later　period；　when　arrangements　were　made　for　the
  publication　of　my　novels　in　Paris；　you　kindly　undertook；　at　some
  sacrifice　of　your　own　convenience；　to　give　the　first　of　the
  series〃The　Dead　Secret〃the　great　advantage　of　being　rendered
  into　French　by　your　pen。　Your　excellent　translation　of　〃The
  Lighthouse〃　had　already　taught　me　how　to　appreciate　the　value　of
  your　assistance；　and　when　〃The　Dead　Secret〃　appeared　in　its
  French　form；　although　I　was　sensibly　gratified；　I　was　by　no　means
  surprised　to　find　my　fortunate　work　of　fiction；　not　translated；
  in　the　mechanical　sense　of　the　word；　but　transformed　from　a　novel
  that　I　had　written　in　my　language　to　a　novel　that　you　might　have
  written　in　yours。
  I　am　now　about　to　ask　you　to　confer　one　more　literary　obligation
  on　me　by　accepting　the　dedication　of　this　book；　as　the　earliest
  acknowledgment　which　it　has　been　in　my　power　to　make　of　the　debt
  I　owe　to　my　critic；　to　my　translator；　and　to　my　friend。
  The　stories　which　form　the　principal　contents　of　the　following
  pages　are　all；　more　or　less；　exercises　in　that　art　which　I　have
  now　studied　anxiously　for　some　years；　and　which　I　still　hope　to
  cultivate；　to　better　and　better　purpose；　for　many　more。　Allow　me；
  by　inscribing　the　collection　to　you；　to　secure　one　reader　for　it
  at　the　outset　of　its　progress　through　the　world　of　letters　whose
  capacity　for　seeing　all　a　writer's　defects　may　be　matched　by　many
  other　critics；　but　whose　rarer　faculty　of　seeing　all　a　writer's
  merits　is　equaled　by　very　few。
  WILKIE　COLLINS。
  THE　QUEEN　OF　HEARTS。
  CHAPTER　I。
  OURSELVES。
  WE　were　three　quiet；　lonely　old　men；　and　SHE　was　a　lively；
  handsome　young　woman；　and　we　were　at　our　wits'　end　what　to　do
  with　her。
  A　word　about　ourselves；　first　of　alla　necessary　word；　to
  explain　the　singular　situation　of　our　fair　young　guest。
  We　are　three　brothers；　and　we　live　in　a　barbarous；　dismal　old
  house　called　The　Glen　Tower。　Our　place　of　abode　stands　in　a
  hilly；　lonesome　district　of　South　Wales。　No　such　thing　as　a　line
  of　railway　runs　anywhere　near　us。　No　gentleman's　seat　is　within
  an　easy　drive　of　us。　We　are　at　an　unspeakably　inconvenient
  distance　from　a　town；　and　the　village　to　which　we　send　for　our
  letters　is　three　miles　off。
  My　eldest　brother；　Owen；　was　brought　up　to　the　Church。　All　the
  prime　of　his　life　was　passed　in　a　populous　London　parish。　For
  more　years　than　I　now　like　to　reckon　up；　he　worked　unremittingly；
  in　defiance　of　failing　health　and　adverse　fortune；　amid　the
  multitudinous　misery　of　the　London　poor；　and　he　would；　in　all
  probability；　have　sacrificed　his　life　to　his　duty　long　before　the
  present　time　if　The　Glen　Tower　had　not　come　into　his　possession
  through　two　unexpected　deaths　in　the　elder　and　richer　branch　of
  our　family。　This　opening　to　him　of　a　place　of　rest　and　refuge
  saved　his　life。　No　man　ever　drew　breath　who　better　deserved　the
  gifts　of　fortune；　for　no　man；　I　sincerely　believe；　more　tender　of
  others；　more　diffident　of　himself；　more　gentle；　more　generous；
  and　more　simple…hearted　than　Owen；　ever　walked　this　earth。
  My　second　brother；　Morgan；　started　in　life　as　a　doctor；　and
  learned　all　that　his　profession　could　teach　him　at　home　and
  abroad。　He　realized　a　moderate　independence　by　his　practice；
  beginning　in　one　of　our　large　northern　towns　and　ending　as　a
  physician　in　London；　but；　although　he　was　well　known　and
  appreciated　among　his　brethren；　he　failed　to　gain　that　sort　of
  reputation　with　the　public　which　elevates　a　man　into　the　position
  of　a　great　doctor。　The　ladies　never　liked　him。　In　the　first
  place；　he　was　ugly　（Morgan　will　excuse　me　for　mentioning　this）；
  in　the　second　place；　he　was　an　inveterate　smoker；　and　he　smelled
  of　tobacco　when　he　felt　languid　pulses　in　elegant　bedrooms；　in
  the　third　place；　he　was　the　most　formidably　outspoken　teller　of
  the　truth　as　regarded　himself；　his　profession；　and　his　patients；
  that　ever　imperiled　the　social　standing　of　the　science　of
  medicine。　For　these　reasons；　and　for　others　which　it　is　not
  necessary　to　mention；　he　never　pushed　his　way；　as　a　doctor；　into
  the　front　ranks；　and　he　never　cared　to　do　so。　About　a　year　after
  Owen　came　into　possession　of　The　Glen　Tower；　Morgan　discovered
  that　he　had　saved　as　much　money　for　his　old　age　as　a　sensible　man
  could　want；　that　he　was　tired　of　the　active　pursuitor；　as　he
  termed　it；　of　the　dignified　quackery　of　his　profession；　and　that
  it　was　only　common　charity　to　give　his　invalid　brother　a
  companion　who　could　physic　him　for　nothing；　and　so　prevent　him
  from　getting　rid　of　his　money　in　the　worst　of　all　possible　ways；
  by　wasting　it　on　doctors'　bills。　In　a　week　after　Morgan　had
  arrived　at　these　conclusions；　he　was　settled　at　The　Glen　Tower；
  and　from　that　time；　opposite　as　their　characters　were；　my　two
  elder　brothers　lived　together　in　their　lonely　retreat；　thoroughly
  understanding；　and；　in　their　very　different　ways；　heartily　loving
  one　another。
  Many　years　passed　before　I；　the　youngest　of　the　threechristened
  by　the　unmelodious　name　of　Griffithfound　my　way；　in　my　turn；　to
  the　dreary　old　house；　and　the　sheltering　quiet　of　the　Welsh
  hills。　My　career　in　life　had　led　me　away　from　my　brothers；　and
  even　now；　when　we　are　all　united；　I　have　still　ties　and　interests
  to　connect　me　with　the　outer　world　which　neither　Owen　nor　Morgan
  possess。
  I　was　brought　up　to　the　Bar。　After　my　first　year's　study　of　the
  law；　I　wearied　of　it；　and　strayed　aside　idly　into　the　brighter
  and　more　attractive　paths　of　literature。　My　occasional　occupation
  with　my　pen　was　varied　by　long　traveling　excursions　in　all　parts
  of　the　Continent；　year　by　year　my　circle　of　gay　friends　and
  acquaintances　increased；　and　I　bade　fair　to　sink　into　the
  condition　of　a　wandering　desultory　man；　without　a　fixed　purpose
  in　life　of　any　sort；　when　I　was　saved　by　what　has　saved　many
  another　in　my　situationan　attachment　to　a　good　and　a　sensible
  woman。　By　the　time　I　had　reached　the　age　of　thirty…five；　I　had
  done　what　neither　of　my　brothers　had　done　before　meI　had
  married。
  As　a　single　man；　my　own　small　independence；　aided　by　what　little
  additions　to　it　I　could　pick　up　with　my　pen；　had　been　sufficient
  for　my　wants；　but　with　marriage　and　its　responsibilities　came　the
  necessity　for　serious　exertion。　I　returned　to　my　neglected
  studies；　and　grappled　resolutely；　this　time；　with　the　intricate
  difficulties　of　the　law。　I　was　called　to　the　Bar。　My　wife's
  father　aided　me　with　his　interest；　and　I　started　into　practice
  without　difficulty　and　without　delay。
  For　the　next　twenty　years　my　married　life　was　a　scene　of
  happiness　and　prosperity；　on　which　I　now　look　back　with　a
  grateful　tenderness　that　no　words　of　mine　can　express。　The　memory
  of　my　wife　is　busy　at　my　heart　while　I　think　of　those　past　times。
  The　forgotten　tears　rise　in　my　eyes　again；　and　trouble　the　course
  of　my　pen　while　it　traces　these　simple　lines。
  Let　me　pass　rapidly　over　the　one　unspeakable　misery　of　my　life；
  let　me　try　to　remember　now；　as　I　tried　to　remember　then；　that　she
  lived　to　see　our　only　childour　son；　who　was　so　good　to　her；　who
  is　still　so　good　to　megrow　up　to　manhood；　that　her　head　lay　on
  my　bosom　when　she　died；　and　that　the　last　frail　movement　of　her
  hand　in　this　world　was　the　movement　that　brought　it　closer　to　her
  boy's　lips。
  I　bore　the　blowwith　God's　help　I　bore　it；　and　bear　it　still。
  But　it　struck　me　away　forever　from　my　hold　on　social　life；　from
  the　purposes　and　pursuits；　the　companions　and　the　pleasures　of
  twenty　years；　which　her　presence　had　sanctioned　and　made　dear　to
  me。　If　my　son　George　had　desired　to　follow　my　profession；　I
  should　still　have　struggled　against　myself；　and　have　kept　my
  place　in　the　world　until　I　had　seen　h　im　prosperous　and　settled。
  But　his　choice　led　him　to　the　army；　and　before　his　mother's　death
  he　had　obtained　his　commission；　and　had　entered　on　his　path　in
  life。　No　other　responsibility　remained　to　claim　from　me　the
  sacrifice　of　myself；　my　brothers　had　made　my　place　ready　for　me
  by　their　fireside；　my　heart　yearned；　in　its　desolation；　for　the
  friends　and　companions　of　the　old　boyish　days；　my　good；　brave　son
  promised　that　no　year　should　pass；　as　long　as　he　was　in　England；
  without　his　coming　to　cheer　me；　and　so　it　happened　that　I；　in　my
  turn；　withdrew　from　the　world；　which　had　once　been　a　bright　and　a
  happy　world　to　me；　and　retired　to　end　my　days；　peacefully；
  contentedly；　and　gratefully；　as　my　brothers　are　ending　theirs；　in
  the　solitude　of　The　Glen　Tower。
  How　many　years　have　passed　since　we　have　all　three　been　united　it
  is　not　necessary　to　relate。　It　will　be　more　to　the　purpose　if　I
  briefly　record　that　we　have　never　been　separated　since　the　day
  which　first　saw　us　assembled　together　in　our　hillside　retreat；
  that　we　have　never　yet　wearied　of　the