arbreak

[Sidenote: Edith's Failure]

Through the long night Edith lay awake, thinking. Her senses were
blindly merged into one comprehensive hurt. She was as one who fares
forth in darkness, knowing well the way upon which he must go, yet
longing vainly for light.

Her path lay before her, mercilessly clear and distinct. A trick of
memory took her back to what Madame had said, the day after she came:
"The old way would have been to have waited, done the best one could,
and trusted God to make it right in His good time." She remembered, too,
her bitter answer: "I've waited and I've done the best I could, and I've
trusted, but I've failed."

Keenly she perceived the subtlety of her punishment. Attempting to bind
the Everlasting with her own personal limitations, her own desires, she
had failed to see that at least half of a rightful prayer must deal with
herself. She had asked only that her husband might love her; not that
she might continue to love him.

[Sidenote: Out of Harmony]

Now, with her heart and soul wholly in the keeping of another man, the
boon had been granted her, in bitterness and ashes and desolation. He
had said, in his letter, that her coming away had made him think.
Through her absence he had seen the true state of affairs between them,
as she could never have made him see it if she had remained at home.
This, then, was God's way of revelation to him, but--to her?

The truth broke upon her with the vividness of a lightning flash. It was
the way of revelation to her also, but how? She sat up in bed, propping
herself back against the pillows, her mind groping eagerly for the clue.

During the past six years she had endeavoured constantly for a certain
adjustment. Now it had come, but she herself was out of harmony. Were
her feet to be forever set upon the ways of pain? Was there nothing at
all in the world for her?

Alden, too, was awake and thinking. She felt it, through the darkness,
as definitely as though he had been in the same room, with his face full
in the light. He also was conscious of the utter hopelessness of it and
was striving to see his way clearly.

Until then, she had not known how far his argument had swayed her, nor
how much she had depended upon the thought that her husband would gladly
accept the release she offered him. Her principles had not changed, but
his possible point of view had not been considered before.

[Sidenote: Irrevocably Bound]

"'Until death do us