She had not seen Faith since that day in the jail when she read the girl's carefully guarded secret, but in the few short interviews which she had with her husband she learned that which caused her to bless the young girl fervently.
James Denton told her honestly that he did not love her, but his manner as he said it was gentle, even tender.
He regretted his foolish marriage, both for her sake and his own, still he was ready now to do his whole duty by her, and it was Faith Marvin's words that had taught him that duty.
But Maggie Brady was a greatly changed woman. There were thoughts in her heart which she revealed to no one, but which influenced her every deed and decision. She had gone over and over her wasted life and could find no blame for any one individual, for, looked at from all points, it was conditions that were her enemies, conditions made by the rich in their greed of plunder.
If she had been stronger she might have combatted these conditions, but the uselessness of such a struggle had been demonstrated by so many—she did not have courage or faith in her own ability to conquer.
Like hundreds of poor girls, she had drifted from bad to worse, until that mad marriage to Jim Denton capped the climax of her wickedness.
Now, with her newly awakened understanding she desired to do penance for her sin. It was a part of that old religion which she had long ago discarded.
At the confessional she told her wrongdoing and received absolution so far as it is in the power of God's mediators to absolve one, but to promise to live, uprightly forevermore did not satisfy her soul. She felt the need of further self-abnegation; she must crucify body and spirit to complete the penance.
With the calmness, even exultation, of a martyr she made her preparations. There were wishes to be expressed and letters to be written.
One of these letters reached Faith as she sat with her mother early one evening; the writing so faint and uneven that she could hardly decipher it.