“You believed what was right?” asked Mrs. Tudor, in amazement.
“I believed it was right for the first wife to go out of her husband’s life if she had spoiled it, and leave him free to woo and win the bride he loved,” replied Daisy, pitifully embarrassed.
“Why, you innocent child,” laughed Mrs. Tudor, “I have said he would not be free as long as the law did not separate him from his first wife, and she was alive. It is against the law of Heaven for any man to have two wives; and if the first wife remained silent and saw the sacred ceremony profaned by that silence, she broke the law of Heaven––a sin against God beyond pardon. Did you speak?” she asked, seeing Daisy’s white lips move.
She did not know a prayer had gone up to God from that young tortured heart for guidance.
Had she done wrong in letting Rex and the whole world believe her dead? Was it ever well to do a wrong that good should come from it?
And the clear, innocent, simple conscience was quick to answer, “No!”
Poor Daisy looked at the position in every possible way, and the more she reflected the more frightened she became.
Poor, little, artless child-bride, she was completely bewildered. She could find no way out of her difficulty until the idea occurred to her that the best person to help her would be John Brooks; and her whole heart and soul fastened eagerly on this.
She could not realize she had lain ill so long. Oh, Heaven, what might have happened in the meantime, if Rex should marry Pluma? She would not be his wife because she––who was a barrier between them––lived.