THE REMOVAL.
Scott had decided to remove to New York. There were several reasons
why he wished to change his place of residence. One was that he
thought a change would be beneficial to his mother, who grieved so
over the loss of his father, whom she had deeply loved. Another reason
he had, he thought that Irene might be happier if she were removed
from the object of her foolish infatuation. He had learned from his
own keen observation that she was not what a true wife should be, and
he resolved that no lack of duty on his part should make her more
unhappy. She was his wife, bound to him by God's law, and if he had
made a great mistake, either by his own lack of penetration or her
artfulness, it must be borne by both until the end came. There was no
other alternative. He would persuade her, if possible, and if that
were not sufficient he would command her to be more careful in future.
Already the voice of slander was wafted on the winds, and Scott felt
that he could bear anything better than disgrace; and should that ever
come to his home, his worst heartache would be for his mother and
sister. June was as true as steel, and his mother, even though she
had been led into a foolish vanity, had the highest regard for
virtue.
Scott had noticed that Rene did not act as prudent as she should, and
he had carefully watched her movements, hoping that his fears were
groundless. He had at one time watched his opportunity, and disguising
himself, saw Max and Irene leave the opera together, and following
closely, caught a portion of their conversation. They had turned on a
dimly lighted street, and no doubt, thought they were quite
unobserved. Scott's first impulse was to rush up and confront the
guilty pair, as any other less calculating than he would have done,
but after a moment's reflection decided to follow quietly.
"No," Irene was saying in answer to some question Max had asked. "No,
I shall always love you, but I must be miserable as long as I live. I
love you better than any one in all the world, but we can only be
friends."
"But, my darling, my beautiful angel," he said. "I cannot live without
you, and your husband does not care for you as I do; and if you will
only tell him what a mistake you have made, he will be satisfied."
"Oh, I wish he knew, but I cannot tell him."
"There are other ways without having an unpleasant interview."
Scott did not hear Irene's reply, but he had heard enough to blight
the very life of a heart less brave than his, and possessing a love as
strong as his own, and when they turned the next corner he hurried to
his own room to decide what was best for him to do in the matter. He
had taken a shorter route home, and when Irene entered he was sitting
quietly by his own fireside.
He had looked the matter over, and after careful study decided to
leave the home of his youth and look for happiness elsewhere. His
father had now been dead six months, and by promising his mother that
his remains should be removed, she consented to make the change. June
shed many a tear at the thought of leaving her old home, but she never
opposed the arrangement, thinking that Scott might be happier
elsewhere. She had observed that he was far from happy, although he
had never spoken one word to her in a disparaging way of his wife, but
she knew he was aware of Rene's vanity. She had often thought she
would tell him what she knew, but a fear of making him more unhappy
restrained her; and thus the days passed by, and the dark gulf between
the husband and the one who should have been his greatest comfort was
each day growing broader and deeper, and its waters more bitter, until
they seemed at times to throw high their huge waves and carry him down
to despair. But his brave manhood would assert its power, and, rising
above the waves of grief and shame that surged about him, Scott Wilmer
stood firmly upon the rock of his lofty aspirations, and by the
strength of his mighty will emerged with a new purity of heart and
purpose. He firmly resolved that when they were settled in their new
home he would seek an interview with his wife, and perhaps when she
was away from her present surroundings, and he had reasoned with her,
she might forget her foolish infatuation.
They grew more and more like strangers. Perhaps, he thought, it might
be in a measure some fault of his own, and if there could be a way to
rebuild their lost happiness, he would do all in his power to make
amends for the past. His love, and he feared his respect also, was
growing less, but he would be true to her as long as she lived. He
would screen her as long as she gave him the right. When he imparted
to her his intention to seek another home she made no reply. She
really did not know whether she was glad or sorry. In one way she was
delighted--she would find a place where there would be a greater
amount of gaiety, but she would be so sorry to leave Max. So studying
between the two conditions, she received the news indifferently.