She could see the big cruel headlines in the morning paper, holding her beloved up to shame in the hour of his triumph. Surely this would be what he deserved. But she loved him—yes, good or bad, she loved him. He was the hero of her girl’s soul, the father of her beautiful children, and in spite of all his coldness and neglect he was her heart’s desire.
And the feeling came crushing down upon her that perhaps she had failed somehow to do her whole duty. She had been wilful and fretful and had not kept in touch and sympathy with his work. She had demanded a perfect love and loyalty, and in agony she asked herself if she had given as much as she had demanded. Had she not thought too much of her own rights and wrongs and too little of his hopes and burdens? And perhaps because of this he was to be crushed at a blow, and his enemies laugh at his calamity and give to her their maudlin pity.
She could hear the sweet strains of the organ in the church and the soprano singing the Gloria.
She held her hand on her heart for a moment, as though it were breaking, and suddenly her soul was born anew.
Out of the shadows of self and self-seeking she lifted up her head into the sunlight of a perfect love, a love that suffereth long and is kind, vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, seeketh not its own, believeth all things, endureth all things—love that never faileth.
“Lord, have mercy on me, and help me—I must save him!” she cried in agony.
Rapidly retracing her steps, she passed back into the street and around the block to the front of the church.
To her joy she encountered no one. The Deacon was so sure of his triumph he had withdrawn his detectives from the street and had them massed as witnesses in the Sunday-school room. He was sure they would emerge by that way, for it was Gordon’s usual way of exit, and the choir was still singing in the church.
With feverish haste she applied the key to the spring lock of the door for the members’ entrance and passed noiselessly down the aisle in the shadows under the gallery, unobserved by the choir. Only the lights about the organ were burning.
When she reached the door of the study she paused.