"Yes, dear; I met her only a few evenings ago, at the house of Mrs. Raymond Ventnor; she is a noble woman, with a noble mission. I begin to comprehend you now, Edith."
"Then let us join her, heart and hand—let us take our stand for chastity and morality," Edith earnestly resumed. "Let us pledge ourselves never to admit within our doors any man who bears the reputation of being immoral, or who lightly esteems the purity of any woman, however humble; while, on the other hand, let us never refuse to hold out a helping hand to those poor, unfortunate girls, who, having once been deceived, honestly desire to rise above their mistake."
"That is bravely spoken, my noble Edith," said Mrs. Stewart, with dewy eyes. "And surely I, who have so much greater cause for taking such a stand than you, will second you most heartily in maintaining it in our future home. I believe that such a determination on the part of every pure woman, would soon make a radical change in the tone of society."
Both were silent for a few moments after this, but finally Edith turned to her companion and inquired:
"Mother, dear, where is Mr. Willard Livermore—the gentleman who rescued you from the Tiber—and his sister, also, who cared for you so faithfully during your long illness?"
"Alice Livermore is in Philadelphia, where she has long been practicing medicine for sweet charity's sake. Mr. Livermore is—here in New York," Mrs. Stewart responded, but flushing slightly as she spoke the name of the gentleman.
Something in her tone caused Edith to glance up curiously into her face, and she read there, in the lovely flush and tender eye, which told her that her mother regarded her deliverer with a sentiment far stronger and deeper than that of mere gratitude or admiration.
"Ah! you—" she began, impulsively, and then stopped, confused.
"Yes, love," confessed the beautiful woman, with shining eyes, "I will have no secrets from you—we both love each other with an everlasting love; for long years this has been so; and had we been sure that there existed no obstacle to our union, it is probable that I should have married Mr. Livermore long ago. But we both believe in the Bible ritual, and those words, 'until death doth part,' have been a barrier which neither of us was willing to overleap. Each knows the heart of the other; and, though it sometimes seems hard that our lives must be divided, when our tastes are so congenial in every particular, yet we have mutually decided that only as 'friends' have we the right to clasp hands and greet each other in this world."
Edith put up her lips and softly kissed the flushed cheek nearest her.