Exiled from the heavens above,
To fulfil some mortal love.—T. Powell.
In the course of the next week, one or more from every family who had been invited to the Christmas party, called, and all who did so, left cards also for Mrs. Alexander Lyon.
Besides this, Mrs. Colonel Seymour, the nearest neighbor and most intimate friend of the Lyons, issued invitations for a large party to come off on Twelfth Night. And the General, Anna, Drusilla and Dick, each received one.
“What shall you wear, Drusilla?” inquired Anna, as the two young women sat together looking at their cards.
“Dear Anna, I do not know that I shall go,” answered Drusilla, gravely.
“Why not?”
“I have an instinctive feeling that I should live very quietly while separated from my husband—live, in fact, as I should have lived, if I had gone back to Cedarwood alone.”
“If you had gone back to Cedarwood alone, it would have been eminently necessary for you to have lived the life of a hermit, to save your reputation from utter ruin; and even then you could not have saved your character from misconstruction and misrepresentation. But now you are living with us, which makes all the difference. Here you may freely enjoy all the social pleasures natural to your youth. The most malignant stabber of fair fame that ever lived would never dare to assail a lady who is a member of General Lyon’s family,” said Anna, proudly. “And it was to secure this freedom of action and these social enjoyments to you, no less than to shield you from danger that my dear grandfather so firmly insisted on your remaining with us,” she added.
“Oh, how can I be grateful enough to him for all his loving kindness to me? Oh, Anna, under Divine Providence, he has been my salvation!” exclaimed Drusilla her face beaming with gratitude and affection.