her. Even the ribbon round her neck was more than she could
endure and breathe freely. Her overburdened heart found no relief
in tears. In the solitude of her room she thought of the future.
The dreary foreboding of what it might be, filled her with a
superstitious dread from which she recoiled. One of the windows
was open already; she threw up the other to get more air. In the
cooler atmosphere her memory recovered itself; she recollected
the newspaper, that Herbert had taken from her. Instantly she
rang for the maid. "Ask the first waiter you see downstairs for
today's newspaper; any one will do, so long as I don't wait for
it." The report of the Divorce--she was in a frenzy of impatience
to read what _he_ had read--the report of the Divorce.

When her wish had been gratified, when she had read it from
beginning to end, one vivid impression only was left on her mind.
She could think of nothing but what the judge had said, in
speaking of Mrs. Linley.

A cruel reproof, and worse than cruel, a public reproof,
administered to the generous friend, the true wife, the devoted
mother--and for what? For having been too ready to forgive the
wretch who had taken her husband from her, and had repaid a
hundred acts of kindness by unpardonable ingratitude.

She fell on her knees; she tried wildly to pray for inspiration
that should tell her what to do. "Oh, God, how can I give that
woman back the happiness of which I have robbed her!"

The composing influence of prayer on a troubled mind was
something that she had heard of. It was not something that she