Emerson's face was turned still more away from his companion, his

eyes bent down and his brows firmly knit. He did not ask farther,

but the man was on a theme that interested him, and so continued.

"For most of the time since her return to Ivy Cliff the life of Miss

Delancy has been given to Christian charities. The death of her

father was a heavy stroke. It took the life out of her for a while.

Since her recovery from that shock she has been constantly active

among us in good deeds. Poor sick women know the touch of her gentle

hand and the music of her voice. She has brought sunlight into many

wintry homes, and kindled again on hearths long desolate the fires

of loving kindness. There must have been some lack of true

appreciation on the part of her husband, sir. Bitter fountains do

not send forth sweet waters like these. Don't you think so?"

"How should I know?" replied Emerson, a little coldly. The question

was sprung upon him so suddenly that his answer was given in

confusion of thought.

"We all have our opinions, sir," said the man, "and this seems a

plain case. I've heard said that her husband was a hot-headed,

self-willed, ill-regulated young fellow, no more fit to get married

than to be President. That he didn't understand the woman--or,

maybe, I should say child--whom he took for his wife is very

certain, or he never would have treated her in the way he did!"

"How did he treat her?" asked Mr. Emerson.

"As to that," replied his talkative companion, "we don't know

anything certain. But we shall not go far wrong in guessing that it

was neither wise nor considerate. In fact, he must have outraged her

terribly."

"This, I presume, is the common impression about Ivy Cliff?"

"No," said the man; "I've heard him well spoken of. The fact is,

people are puzzled about the matter. We can't just understand it.

But, I'm all on her side."

"I wonder she has not married again?" said Emerson. "There are

plenty of men who would be glad to wed so perfect a being as you

represent her to be."

"She marry!" There was indignation and surprise in the man's voice.

"Yes; why not?"

"Sir, she is a Christian woman!"

"I can believe that, after hearing your testimony in regard to her,"

said Emerson. But he still kept his face so much turned aside that

its expression could not be seen.

"And reads her Bible."

"As we all should."

"And, what is more, believes in it," said the man emphatically.

"Don't all Christian people believe in the Bible?" asked Mr.

Emerson.

"I suppose so, after a fashion; and a very queer fashion it is,

sometimes."




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