d be hard for her
had never been to Hetty any reason for not doing it, since she was
twelve years old. From all the pain and loss which were involved to her
in this terrible step she turned resolutely away, and never thought
about them except with a guilty sense of selfishness. She believed with
all the intensity of a religious conviction that it would be better for
her husband, now, to have Rachel Barlow for his wife. She believed, with
the same intensity, that she alone stood in the way of this good for
him. Call it morbid, call it unnatural, call it wicked if you will, in
Hetty Williams to have this belief: you must judge her conduct from its
standpoint, and from no other. The belief had gained possession of her.
She could no more gainsay it, resist it, than if it had been
communicated to her by supernatural beings of visible presence and
actual speech. Given this belief, then her whole conduct is lifted to a
plane of heroism, takes rank with the grand martyrdoms; and is not to be
lightly condemned by any who remember the words,--"Greater love hath no
man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend."

The more Hetty thought over her plan, the simpler and more feasible it
appeared. More and more she concentrated all her energies on the
perfecting of every detail: she left nothing unthought of, either in her
arrangements for her own future, or in her arrangements for those she
left behind. Her will had been made for many years, leaving unreservedly
to her husband the whole estate of "Gunn's," and also all her other
property, except a legacy to Jim and Sally, and a few thousand dollars
to old Caesar and Nan. Hetty was singularly alone in the world. She had
no kindred to whom she felt that she owed a legacy. As she looked
forward to her own departure, she thought with great satisfaction of the
wealth which would now be her husband's. "He will sell the farm, no
doubt,--it isn't likely that he will care to live on here; and when he
has it all in money he can go to Europe, as he has so often said he
would," she said to herself, still, as ever, planning for her husband's
enjoyment.

As the autumn drew near, she went oftener with Raby to row on the Lake.
A spell seemed to draw her to the spot. She continually lived over, in
her mind, all the steps she must take when the time came. She rowed
slowly back and forth past the opening of the Springton road, and
fancied her own figure walking alone up that bank for the l