With Imelda we will read Wilbur’s letter:
“MY DARLING: The fact that I am writing this to you must of necessity be
proof that Margaret has laid before me your letter containing the news
that already the event has come into your life which I, in our parting
hour, prophesied would come. Though I still claim you as my darling, and
though my heart still goes to meet you with the same tender emotions, I
cannot do otherwise than say I am pleased. I am glad that that other has
so soon stepped into your life, and, building upon the past, I take the
responsibility on myself of giving the advice you ask of Margaret.
“The fact alone that you love this man, that your heart has so fully
gone into his keeping, is to me the best evidence of his
trustworthiness. Not but that you, as well as many another, are liable
to make mistakes as to the character of any individual you may come in
contact with, but in a case of spontaneous love I feel and know that the
purity of mind itself, of which you are possessed, would intuitively
recognize that which is not equally pure.
“That Norman should still be bound by old superstitions and creeds may
prove an obstacle to the speedy consummation of your love. It is here
your work begins; here your strength will be tested. If you would be a
priestess in our holy work you will be expected to remain true to the
sentiments you have so often expressed. Your soul must remain free and
unfettered, even though the man may be purity personified. Not a
semblance even of the power the law gives to a husband must you put into
his hands. If your love is great enough to trust him he will be generous
enough to trust you, or he is not the man he has represented himself to
be. If he is not generous enough to trust you, then your intuition will
have been at fault—the blindness of a common love has been laid upon
your vision.
“Where lies the beginning of your work?—you ask. I will tell you. Your
first duty is one that you owe to him and to yourself. You say that in
your past life lie hidden many dark spots. It is your duty in this case
to lay bare these dark spots in the full light of day. It is thus you
will test his strength of character. As he comes of a long line of
Puritan ancestors this will be necessary. The old prejudices may be so
deeply rooted that, rather than take to his arms one who, although not
responsible for the actions of others, may by the ties of blood be
allied to those that are, he may be willing to crush out a love that
would leave his own heart mangled and bleeding. If such should be the
case, my little girl, I understand full well that bitter pain must then
for a while gnaw at the cords of your heart. But it will pass, and in
passing leave you purer and stronger than ever.
“If, on the other hand, he stands the test I feel sure it will be only a
short time until his whole soul will come to understand the grand
sublimity of full and untrammeled liberty. Love cannot be fettered. Love
will always remain free; the greater his freedom the more certainty is
ours of retaining him to make bright our lives. Try to fetter him, he
unfolds his wings and mockingly takes his departure. Then, what are we
to do with our empty lives?
“In justice to woman we must admit that she is at the greater
disadvantage, no matter in what light the case may be placed. In
marriage, it matters not how just may be the man whom she calls ‘lord,’
she is, she remains, his property, according to the mandates of the law.
No matter how willing he may be that she shall enjoy perfect freedom,
society takes it upon itself to place a watch upon her. If her husband
has no sense of honor, or of what is due to himself, the stern finger of
the law points it out to him. Society prepares a code for her that she
is bound to respect and accept as her guide. The path which he is asked
to walk is not nearly so straight. There are many recesses and angles in
it, if he chooses to explore them. If he does so quietly nothing will be
said.
“On the other hand, we know only too well if woman refuses marriage, it
is equivalent to throwing away all hope of ever enjoying life as nature
has designed. If she dares to thus enjoy she is ostracized from society.
“At the present time we are still in the dark. But may we not hope,
sometime, to grow strong enough to defy the mandates of society? May not
love find a way that shall yet defy all the lynx-eyed agents of a
corrupt moral code? May we not hope that man and woman both may yet be
natural as the new-born babe, when it is first placed in the mother’s
arms—at nature’s fount?
“Will you be strong, my Imelda? Think you, you can take your Norman by
the hand and lead him on until he stands upon your own sublime heights?
Until he stands at your side? Then side by side to explore the unknown
heights that still lie beyond your field of vision?
“Be brave, my precious one; be strong, and when the time comes when we
shall meet again (and I feel that it will come), and I fold you to my
heart, pressing warm kisses on your lips, some prophetic spirit tells me
that your Norman will stand by and understand.
“There must and will come a time when the full glory of a free love will
be understood and enjoyed. So look up to the goal in view; bravely work
on, and remember there is strength in the knowledge of unity of thought
and purpose of those who work in a like cause, even though your friends
with their supporting love are distant. Remaining as ever, loving you
with a love that is absolutely pure, I am yours for truth of purpose,
and for the best humanity.
WILBUR.”
A long drawn sigh escaped the lips of Imelda as she laid the closely
written sheets upon her knees. Well she knew that he was right. In the
still hours of the night watches, by the side of the sick friend the
thought had come to her again that open truth was the only course for
her to pursue. But oh, how gigantic the task appeared. In all the three
weeks the subject had never been touched upon again by them. Few indeed
had been the moments she had been able to accord him, her strength being
tested to its utmost in her capacity as nurse. Being well aware of the
state of things Norman Carlton was far too noble to press for the reason
of the loved girl’s views at such a time. For the present he accepted
the boon of her love as a priceless jewel of whose possession he was
assured.
But Imelda knew that the hour was coming when he would expect an answer
to his question, and, as Wilbur had stated, it was then her work would
begin. If she dreaded that coming hour, was she to blame? Folding the
letter she placed it back in the envelope and with the action there came
to her with overwhelming force, the realization of the grandeur of this
man’s character. What purity, what nobility! Even as the new love more
fully filled out her life so did she understand better the true worth of
the man who had first called her love into being.
“O, Margaret darling,” was her mental comment, “when your heart chose
Wilbur as its best beloved, it made a grand selection; no one will ever
find his way into your life who will be able to look to you from a
loftier height than that upon which he stands.”
Recalling her wandering thoughts she next opened the epistle from
Margaret, for such it proved to be. Such a long, warm, glowing letter;
overflowing with the love her pure young heart contained. She had filled
page after page, concluding with the words:
“And now my dearest girl, I think I have made my meaning clear. I have
given you the best advice that I know of. I know, however, that it is
the same as Wilbur’s, only perhaps in other words, and I feel that now
we shall not be disappointed in our brave girl. Let me add one thing. I
understand fully how difficult the making of such a revelation will
prove; and yet it _must_ be made. I can see nothing else you can do and
remain true to yourself and lover. Not the shadow of a suspicion, of a
deception, must lie between you. I will not say disgrace; that will
exist, if it exist at all, only in Norman’s _mind_. But now for my
advice:
“Write the history of your life. That will be easier. You can tell him
all, everything, without the disadvantage of seeing in his face the
emotions that such a history might call into play. He will have time to
think and understand the full import of it all. You will not then
receive an immediate answer prompted by an impulse that might prove a
barrier to your love. Cool, calm reflection is necessary in such a case,
and as my own Imelda possesses her full share of common sense she can
but see the wisdom of such a course.
“Be brave, my dearest friend, my own loved one. If this man is worthy of
your love he will stand the test. If he does not stand it, then I can
but say he was not worthy. And now remember—three hearts beat in love
for you, and the united strength of that love is bent on the success of
your heart’s dearest hope (for of course my mother knows), and hoping to
be reunited in a not too distant future, thus writes and advises your
most sincere and loving friend,
MARGARET.”
This letter had been folded and placed side by side with that other one.
Long had Imelda sat with bowed head and folded hands. Yes! both kind and
loving friends were right. An inner voice told her this was the only
course to pursue. But the condition of the sick friend had not permitted
her to think of it. Every minute of her time had been devoted to her.
Her lover must wait until the dark, uncertain hours would be past; but
now as Imelda sat and watched the peaceful sleeper, she realized that
she could not spend the long hours of the night watch to better
advantage than in the performance of this duty. The dreaded hour had
passed; hope and sunshine were again seeking admittance at the portals
of this home, and Norman was waiting, patiently waiting, for his answer.
So when the morning broke, with its pale light, she folded the closely
written sheets. With trembling hands and beating heart she wrote the
address and sent them to their destination. Would he stand the test?
When tried by this crucial ordeal, would he prove faithful and true?