She answered, angrily:
“Ill of suspense and worry only. How dare you keep me locked up in my room like this? I demand to be released, that I may return to my husband!”
“Nonsense!”
“But, papa, I am in earnest. I must return to my new home. What will my husband think of my remaining away so long?”
“Nothing; because he has gone away himself to Cuba, as he told you he would do.”
“Gone—gone! Without one farewell word to me, his wife!” she almost shrieked.
“Come, Viola, no tragedies!” her father exclaimed, sternly. “You never pretended to be in love with the young fellow, you know, nor he with you. Your marriage was a mistake, and I am going to free you from it as soon as possible.”
“Papa!” wildly.
“I may as well tell you I have seen Maxwell just before he started for Cuba,” continued the judge. “I showed him Desha’s letter, and told him that you fainted when you read it. He agreed with me that he did wrong to marry you, and promised that he would throw no obstacles in the way of your getting a divorce!”
She answered, passionately: