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."

"And what advice did you give her?"

"I gave none. First, I must consult you."

I shook my head and replied,

"It will not do for me to be mixed up in this affair, Constance."

Worldly prudence spoke there.

My wife laid her hand upon my arm, and looking calmly in my face, said,

"The right way is always a safe way."

"Granted."

"It will be right for you to give such advice as your judgment dictates,
and therefore safe. I do not know much about law matters, but it occurs
to me that her first step should be the employment of counsel."

"Is her father going to stand wholly aloof?" I inquired.

"Yes, if she be resolved to defend herself in open court. He will not
sanction a course that involves so much disgrace of herself and family."

"Has she shown him the letter you saw?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I think she is afraid to let it go out of her hands."

"She might trust it with her father, surely," said I.

"Her father has been very hard with her; and seems to take the worst for
granted. He evidently believes that it is in the power of Dewey to prove
her guilty; and that if she makes any opposition to his application for
a divorce, he will hold her up disgraced before the world."

"This letter might open his eyes."

"The letter is no defence of her; only a witness against him. It does
not prove her innocence. If it did, then it would turn toward her a
father's averted face. In court its effect will be to throw doubt
upon the sincerity of her husband's motives, and to show that he had a
reason, back of alleged infidelity, for wishing to be divorced from his
wife."

"I declare, Constance!" said I, looking at my wife in surprise, "you
have taken upon yourself a new character. I think the case is safe in
your hands, and that Mrs. Dewey wants no more judicious friend. If
you were a man, you might conduct the defence for her to a successful
issue."

"I am not a man, and, therefore, I come to a man," she replied, "and ask
the aid of his judgment. I go by a very straight road to conclusions;
but I want the light of your reason up