responsibility for whatever the future might have
in store for us--Why had I left her behind me?

The woman God gave me was mine--why had I left her in the house of a man
who, notwithstanding his infidelities and brutalities, had a right in
the eyes of the law, the church, and the world to call her his wife and
to treat her accordingly?

Let me make no pretence of a penitence I did not feel. Never for one
moment did I reproach myself for what had happened. Never for the shadow
of a moment did I reproach her. She had given herself to me of her
queenly right and sovereign grace as every good woman in the world must
give herself to the man she loves if their union is to be pure and true.

But why did I not see then, as I see now, that it is the law of
Nature--the cruel and at the same time the glorious law of Nature--that
the woman shall bear the burden, the woman shall pay the price?

It is over now, and though many a time since my sweet girl has said out
of her stainless heart that everything has worked out for the best, and
suffering is God's salt for keeping our souls alive, when I think of
what she went through for me, while I was out of all reach and sight, I
know I shall never forgive myself for leaving her behind--never, never
never.

M.C.

[END OF MARTIN CONRAD'S MEMORANDUM]

SEVENTY-SECOND CHAPTER

As this will be the last time I shall have to speak of my husband's
guests, I wish to repeat that I am trying to describe them without
malice exactly as they were--selfish, cruel, ill-mannered, and
insincere.

The dinner-bell rang while I was dressing, and on going downstairs a few
minutes afterwards I found that there had been no attempt to wait for
me.

Already the whole party were assembled at the table, my husband being at
the foot of it, and Alma (incredible as it may seem) in the place of the
hostess at the head.

This in my altered mood, was more than I could bear, so, while the
company made some attempt to welcome me with rather crude salutations,
and old Mrs. Lier cried, "Come along here, my pore dear, and tell me how
you've gotten on while we've been away" (indicating an empty seat by her
side), I walked boldly up to Alma, put my hand on the back of her chair
and said, "If you please."

Alma looked surprised. But after a moment she carried off the difficult
situation by taking the seat which had been reserved for me beside her
mother, by congratulating me on my improved appearance and