rts.
Once free from Genevra the world this side the water would never know of
that mistake, and she set herself steadily to accomplish her purpose. To
tell you all that followed our return to England and the steps by which
I was brought to sue for a divorce would make my story too long, and so
I will only state that, chiefly by the testimony of the anonymous letter
writer, whose acquaintance we made, a divorce was at last obtained,
Genevra putting in no defense, but as I heard afterward, settling down
to an apathy from which nothing had power to rouse her until the news of
her freedom from me was carried to her, when, amid a paroxysm of tears
and sobs she wrote me a few lines, assuring me of her innocence,
refusing to send back her wedding ring, and saying God would not forgive
me for the great wrong I had done her. I saw her once after that by
appointment and her face haunted me for years. Indeed, I sometimes see
it in my dreams as it confronted me then, with a look which I now know
was a look of deeply injured innocence, for, Katy, Genevra was innocent,
as I found after the time was past when reparation could be made."

Wilford's voice trembled now, and for a moment there was silence in the
room while he composed himself to go on with the story:

"She would not live with me again if she could, she said, denouncing
bitterly the Cameron pride and saying she was happier to be free. I
remember I tried to excuse myself, remember saying that if there had
been children or a child I should have paused before taking the decisive
step, and there we parted, but not until she had told me that her
traducer was the old discarded suitor who had sworn to have revenge, and
who, since the divorce, had dared seek her again. A vague suspicion of
this had crossed my mind once before, but the die was cast, and even if
the man were false, what I saw myself in Rome still stood against her
and so my conscience was quieted, while mother was more than glad to be
rid of a daughter-in-law of whose family I knew nothing. Rumors I did
hear of a cousin whose character was not the best, and of the father
who for some crime had fled the country, dying in a foreign land, but as
that was nothing to me now, I passed it by, feeling it was best to be
relieved from one of so doubtful antecedents.

"In the spring of 185- we came back to New York, where no one had ever
heard of the affair, so quietly and well had it been managed. I was a
young man still, no