"'Percy regrets his injustice,' she said to herself. 'Men are rarely magnanimous enough to own they have been in the wrong;' and, with the generosity of a noble heart, she resolved never to remind him, by speech or look, that his words had been like poisoned arrows to her spirit.
"The following day, Percy proposed their taking 'a short trip into a neighboring town,' and Mary, glad to convince him how truly she forgave him, readily complied. It was a lovely day in spring; and the fresh air, and sweet-scented blossoms, might have sent a thrill of pleasure to sadder hearts than theirs.
"'What a pretty place,' said Mary. 'What a spacious house! and how tastefully the grounds are laid out. Do you stop here?' she continued, as her husband reined the horse into the avenue.
"'A few moments. I have business here,' replied Percy, slightly averting his face, 'and you had better alight too, for the horse is restive, and may trouble you.'
"Mary sprang lightly from the vehicle and ascended the capacious stone steps. They were met at the door by a respectable grey-haired porter, who ushered them into a receiving room. Very soon, a little sallow-faced man, bearing a strong resemblance to a withered orange, made his appearance, and casting a glance upon Mary, from his little twinkling black eyes, that made the blood mount to her cheeks, made an apology for withdrawing her husband for a few minutes, 'on business,' to an adjoining room.
"As they left, a respectable middle-aged woman entered, and invited Mary to take off her hat. She declined, saying 'she was to leave with her husband in a few minutes.'
"The old woman then jingled a small bell, and another matron entered.
"'Better not use force,' said she, in a whisper. 'Poor thing! So pretty, too. She don't look as though she'd wear a 'strait jacket.'
"The truth flashed upon Mary at once! She was in a Lunatic Hospital! Faint with terror, she demanded to see her husband,—assured them she was perfectly sane; to all of which they smiled quietly, with an air that said 'we are used to such things here.'
"By-and-bye, the little wizen-faced doctor came in, and listening to her eloquent appeal with an abstracted air, as one would tolerate the prattle of a petted child, he examined her pulse and motioned the attendants to 'wait upon her to her room.' Exhausted with the tumult of feeling she had passed through, she followed without a show of resistance; but who shall describe the death-chill that struck to her heart as she entered it? There was a bed of snowy whiteness, a table, a chair, all scrupulously neat and clean, but the breath of the sweet-scented blossoms came in through a grated window!