Two years from the hour she parted from her husband, the law had set her free. Paul Dudley was no longer her husband, and even his parents, whom Edward had visited in Philadelphia, confessed she had borne more than could be expected. Alas, they knew their son had fallen! that their fond hopes were blasted, and learned too late the truth of the inspired words; "'The rod and reproof give wisdom; but a child left to himself, bringeth his mother to shame.'"
Through all these weary days and these trying scenes, Gertrude, hopeful and faithful Gertrude, quieted the anguish of her heart by the thought:
"God is my Father and friend. He knows all things from the beginning; and has some wise purpose to accomplish by all these trials."
Still there were hours when her grief could not be controlled; when poor weak human nature cried out, "It is more than I can endure. Has it come to this, that I am abandoned, forsaken?—that I shall never again see one to whom my heart clings, notwithstanding all that has passed?"
Mr. Wallingford sent the journal containing a notice of the divorce to Paul; and then tried to forget, and lead others to forget his existence.
When he gave the paper to his sister, pointing out the paragraph, she gave way to a burst of emotion. Pressing her baby to her breast she sobbed over him, faltering:
"Oh, my poor boy! my poor, fatherless boy!"
"I pledge myself, Gertrude," said her brother, greatly moved, "with the help of God, to be a father to him; to watch over him and care for his interests as if he were my own child." From that very hour he began to teach little Paul to call him papa, and soon grew into the feeling that he was a father in reality.
The fall and winter months glided away unmarked by any event, except that Edward heard through Paul's sister that he had received notice of the legal proceedings taken against him; and expressed himself satisfied with the result; being decided not to return to the United States, and feeling unable to support a family abroad.
Gertrude came gradually to mingle in society, frequently visiting New York for a few days, leaving her babe who was uncommonly healthy, with Bridget under Hannah's supervision. All who knew her, found themselves equally delighted and surprised at the noble development of her character. It was indeed true that the afflictions through which she had passed had refined her, as silver is refined in the furnace. Her piety had deepened and matured till it could easily be seen, that her chastisement had "'yielded the peaceable fruits of righteousness.'"