“I hope he has quite forgotten it all by now. At least, I know he does not regret it, for my dear friend Sadie makes him the best wife in the world,” she decided, as she observed the fond glances that passed between the wedded pair.
“Oh, how sweet is love, whether in the highest or the lowest walks of life,” she mused sadly, with a weary sigh to the memory of the brief, bright past, in which Bayard Lorraine had made her so happy with his love.
Her eyes grew dim as she remembered all that Sadie had told her last night about her visit to Mrs. Howard that afternoon.
“She is grieved for her hardness to you in Italy, and anxious to atone for it,” Sadie said, and Fair had wept with joy at hearing that her friends had relented.
“As for Mr. Lorraine, he loves you more than ever since he read your journal and heard from me the true story of your trouble,” her friend continued. “He is wild to find you, and declares that it will be easy to secure a divorce for you.”
“As if I would permit him to be mixed up with that miserable affair in any way! No, no! I will go away and hide myself. I will not bring any more trouble upon my friends,” declared the unhappy girl, and it was in vain that Sadie pleaded with her to change her decision.
Fair was thinking over all this now as she trifled with her breakfast, pretending to eat, but in reality scarcely touching a morsel, and she paid but little attention to the subject the husband and wife were discussing—the bad condition of the condemned factory.
But presently Sadie put on her bonnet, and Waverley took his hat and his wife’s market basket.
“Now, dear Fair,” said her friend, “if you don’t mind staying alone with baby a little while, I will go along to market as Waverley goes to work.”
Fair assured the bright little housewife that baby would be very good company, and she locked the door after the two had gone out, feeling very thankful for this temporary haven from the storm that had threatened to break upon her head only yesterday.