[CHAPTER XIX.]
WAS I RIGHT?
WE often speak of "learning by contrast;" and, surely, some of our most forcible lessons, those which we never forget, are learnt in this way.
I had been about three months in my new home, and I had always felt that it was the happiest place on earth, and yet, although I thanked God for giving it to me, every morning and evening, when I said my prayers, still I do not think I ever realised how happy, how peaceful, how blessed it was, until that Monday night.
For Monday morning's post had brought me a letter, written in pencil and almost illegible. I did not recognise the writing, and therefore glanced to the end, and I was very much surprised to see the signature—Alice Ellis.
Yes, the letter was from Claude's wife. It was a very short one. I turned to the beginning, and read as follows:
"MY DEAR MRS. STANLEY,
"I want to ask a great favour of you. Will you come and see me, as soon as you can after you get this letter? I want very much to speak to you; there is something that I want to ask you.
"I am very ill, so please forgive this untidy note, for I am writing it in bed. Do come at once, if you can.
"Please forgive me for asking you.
"Believe me, dear Mrs. Stanley,
"Very sincerely yours,
"ALICE ELLIS."
A SAD ERRAND.