a subject for
evil tongues, made Chatty's mother half beside herself. It seemed more
than she could bear. But Chatty took it all very quietly. She was absorbed
in the story, more entertaining than any romance, which was her own
story. No thought of what divorce was, or of anything connected with it,
disturbed her mind. What Dick had to do seemed to her natural: perhaps
anything he had done in the present extraordinary crisis would have
seemed to her natural. He was going to put things right. She did not
think much for the moment what the means of doing so were, nor what in
the meantime her own position was. She had no desire to make any mystery
of it, to conceal herself, or what had happened. There was no shame in
it so far as Chatty knew. There was a dreadful, miserable mistake. She
was "very sorry for us both," but for herself less than for Dick, who
had suffered, she said to herself, far more than she, for though he had
done no wrong, he had to bear all the penalties of having done wrong,
whereas in her own case there was no question of blame. Chatty was so
much absorbed in Dick that she did not seem to have time to realise her
own position. She did not think of herself as the chief sufferer. She
fell back into the calm of the ordinary life without a murmur, saying
little about it. With her own hands she packed up all the new dresses,
the wealth of the pretty trousseau. She was a little pale, and yet she
smiled. "I wonder if I shall ever have any need for these," she said,
smoothing down the silken folds of the dresses with a tender touch.

"I hope so, my dear, when poor Dick comes back."

Then Chatty's smile gave way to a sigh. "They say human life is so
uncertain, mamma, but I never realised it till now. You cannot tell what
a day may bring forth. But it very, very seldom happens, surely, that
there are such changes as this. I never heard of one before."

"No, my darling, it is very rare: but oh, what a blessing, Chatty, that
it was found out at once, before you had gone away!"

"Yes, I suppose it was a blessing; perhaps it would have been wrong, but
I should never have left him, mamma, had we gone away."

"Oh, do not let us think of that; you were mercifully saved, Chatty."

"On my wedding day! I never heard that such a thing ever happened to a
girl before. The real blessing is that Dick had done nothing wrong. That
comforts me most of all."

"I don't know, Chatty. He ought perhaps to have taken better care: