“According to man’s enactments, yes; but, dearest,” gazing on her with a look of yearning tenderness, “we who profess to be God’s followers and children must abide by the law of God, who permits divorce for but one cause. Ah,” with a brightening countenance as a sudden recollection came to him, “I do remember now to have heard, before we left your old home, that Perry Golding had given you that one cause!”
“Is it so?” she cried, half breathlessly. “I had not known it, though I can well believe it may have been true. Tell me about it, please.”
He did so.
“And you will tell him?” she said, when he had finished his story; “and surely he must see at once that he has no longer any rightful claim to me, and will go away and leave us in peace.”
“There will have to be a divorce,” replied the doctor. “I hope he may be induced to join in asking for it, in which case, if I am not very much mistaken, the judge can grant it without bringing the affair into court.”
“And if he won’t join in the request?” she asked, almost holding her breath to listen for his reply.
“You may have to sue for divorce, bringing your proof of marital infidelity and desertion.”
“Oh, horrible!” she cried, shuddering, and hiding her face; “to have all that dragged before the public!”
“Dearest, do not distress yourself,” he said, tenderly, and with emotion; “we will hope that alternative may not be forced upon you.”