“May it shine unto the perfect day!” I answered fervently.
“And, dear husband! it will shine,” said Constance, a glow of enthusiasm lighting up her face, and giving it a new beauty, “even unto the perfect day! Not the perfect day of earthly bliss—for I think the sun of that day has gone down never to rise again for her—but the perfect day of that higher life, which to many comes not, except through the gates of tribulation.”
CHAPTER XXII.
I was shocked and distressed by the painful revelation which Mrs. Dewey had made to Constance. A sadder history in real life I had never heard.
A few days after this memorable visit to the Allen House, a note was received by my wife, containing this single word, “Come,” and signed Delia.
“Any change in the aspect of affairs?” I inquired of Constance on her return.
“Yes. Mrs. Dewey has received notice, in due form, of her husband's application for a divorce.”
“What has she done?”
“Nothing yet. It was to ask my advice as to her best course that she sent for me.”