As the door closed behind Kathleen, an evil smile came on her husband's face. He did not follow her, but he said aloud—
"Before you are many hours older you will be glad to change your tone, my fair Kathleen."
An hour later, Mrs. Ellicott and Geraldine were startled by Kathleen's appearance at Monk's How. Her coming suggested some new trouble, and into their sympathetic ears she poured the story, not only of this last trial, but of many preceding ones hitherto unsuspected.
"I blame myself," said Kathleen, humbly, "because I sinned against conscience and knowledge by marrying one in whose life the fear and the love of God had no part. I indulged my self-will at the cost of pain to my best friends. I trusted fortune, my hope of happiness, the future of my child—all that marriage might bring—to one whose past life proved him unworthy of trust. Even John said it would be better for him if he were not so trusted, and oh! how truly he knew this! You know, dear aunty, how I used to chafe at little contradictions and crave after forbidden things, just because they were forbidden. Yet that night when you told me my mother's story, my longing after one prohibited amusement was quenched for ever. Things that I thought I should enjoy when I became my own mistress, lost their relish as soon as I tasted them, and I would have given the world to live with John the old peaceful life such as ours was, when we were together at the Hall before my marriage."
"It is an awful thing to pass the years with one to whom you are joined by the closest and most sacred ties, and yet to be as far as possible asunder in all that concerns the soul and eternity. I doubt if John and I ever joined in real prayer in our lives, for even when we went to church together, he always said it is 'only for the look of the thing and to please you, Kitty, that I go.' Even that poor concession soon ceased, as you know."
Tears stopped Kathleen's utterance for a while. She had begged her aunt and cousin just to let her tell her tale uninterrupted.
"For," she said, "if you begin to pity me and speak lovingly, it will never be told. I shall break down, and cannot begin again."
"You have had one great blessing out of the trouble, one light that has pierced the darkness, Kathleen," said Mrs. Ellicott. "You have been brought nearer to God, and realized, as you never did before, the love that never faileth."
"Oh yes. This is now my one great joy. Silent to others, even to you, how could I have lived without the comfort and strength He gave me, though I felt so unworthy even to ask for it? I was—I am so lonely, though I am a wife and a mother. Yet my very loneliness has drawn and driven me to God. I have needed much discipline, and it has taken a long time for me to learn the truth about myself. I started on my married life with the idea that I—weak, sinful, and to a great extent ignorant of my own need—should prove a source of strength to my husband, and be his helper and safeguard on the path we were to tread together until life ended for one of us. It is true that I soon began to regret the sorrow I had caused to dear earthly friends by my wilfulness; but I placed them first. Now, by the enlightening power of the Holy Spirit, I see my sinfulness and ingratitude towards my Heavenly Father. In all my wilful words and acts I rebelled against Him, and in paining the dear earthly friends whom He had graciously given to watch over me I showed the basest ingratitude for His goodness to me."
"When I first realized all this, and felt that nothing I could do would make amends for the past, all seemed dark and hopeless around me. But God had another message for me and it was one of love which I had often heard, though it never reached my heart before, and of forgiveness for the sake of Jesus, 'who loved us and gave Himself for us' when He died on Calvary. I can now say, 'He gave Himself for me,' for I believe it with all my heart, and I 'rejoice with joy unspeakable.'"