CHAPTER XIX.
A FATAL STEP.
“Mr. Wilmer, here is a letter for you,” said Paul, entering his employer’s room.
“Where did you get this?” Scott asked, looking at the envelope.
“It was given me by your wife to deliver to you.”
Scott was just preparing to go to the office, and was standing by the mantel gazing down as though in a deep study. He had broken the seal and read the letter. Then, while a deathly pallor overspread his fine features, he sank into a chair and laid his head on the boy’s shoulders.
“Oh, Paul,” he groaned, “has it come to this? Poor, foolish girl. Oh, what a terrible mistake we both made in our marriage.
“Poor, foolish, weak woman. Poor girl, her punishment will come sooner or later, and God knows I pity her.”
Paul passed his hand over Scott’s brow with a tender, loving caress, then his finger-tips rested lightly on the rings of hair which clustered around his brow, and softly the great tears fell and dropped on Scott’s hand.