"A short time before he received the paper I forwarded," continued the gentleman; "he met a lady from New York who had frequently seen you in that city. Knowing nothing of the relation existing between you, she was enthusiastic in her praise, commenting warmly on your brilliancy in conversation, etc., etc.; adding that your beauty, grace, and accomplishments made you the centre of attraction wherever you went. Finding him greatly interested she went on to say that there were circumstances in your life connected with a lady, Miss Gilbert, who accompanied you into society which reflected greatly to your credit,—stating that you married when a mere child, but regretting your want of education had spent every possible moment in making up your deficiencies in the hope of keeping the respect, as well as affection of your husband, who was a professional man."
"Paul says when he heard all this, the scales fell from his eyes. When once they were opened, he wondered at his blindness; and nothing but the recollection of the shameful life he had led, kept him from returning to New York, throwing himself at your feet, confessing his crimes, and begging your forgiveness. While pride and affection, which had revived in full force, were struggling in his breast, he heard, first, by the printed report; and, afterwards through his sister Anna, that the law had made you free."
"This was the most terrible disappointment he ever experienced. It was followed by a sickness which carried him to the borders of the grave; and when he recovered, he plunged into every kind of vice, drinking and gambling until he often was on the verge of starvation. Do you remember rising from your couch one night soon after the death of dear little Rose, and kneeling by the bed when you thought your husband asleep, to pray for him? He could never forget those petitions; they haunted him whenever he attempted to sleep. He says he had treated you in the most cruel manner through all that trying scene; and that you bore it like a saint, never complaining, though often gazing mournfully in his face, but rendering good for evil continually. He told me your face, just as it looked the morning Rose died, was so continually before him that when he caught one glimpse of you at the door of the studio, he thought at first it was the vision in another form."
"The sight of us there so affected him, that he could scarcely stagger to the wretched garret he called home. He found out where we lived; and while we were searching in every part of the city for Paul Dudley, he, by the name of John Hastings, was lingering near our villa, waiting hours in the hope of one glance in your familiar face. He says you and I have passed him again and again, as he was seated near the gate, and that once he heard you say:
"Edward, there's that poor man again. I must throw him some money."
"Oh, brother what a terrible retribution for him! Since he remembered the prayer so well, did it do him any good?"
"I should think it only harrowed up his soul with remorse. Poor Paul; his has been a sad instance of total recklessness, resulting from want of religious principle."
"Did he seem pleased to come to us?"
"Not at all. At first he absolutely refused. 'I'm dying,' he said; 'and I'd rather end my days in quiet.' But when I insisted that I would not leave any countryman in such a state of destitution, he hesitated; and I took advantage of his weakness to send for a barber, and tailor and have him made ready to be moved."
"Will you please come with me?" inquired Pedro, knocking at the door.