“I will not say I have not been lonely,” he wrote.  “For God knows how lonely I have been since you left.  The light went with you and will return only when you come home.  Sometimes I have felt that I could not endure it and must send for you or go to you; but the first would have been selfishness and the latter a breach of duty.  The times have been such that I have not felt it right to leave, as so many interests have been intrusted to me....  It is possible that I may never see your face again.  I have made a will which I hope will please you.  It will, at least, show you that I trust you entirely.  I make no restrictions; for I wish you greater happiness than I fear I have been able to bring you....  In business affairs I suggest that you consult with Norman Wentworth, who is a man of high integrity and of a conservative mind.  Should you wish advice as to good charities, I can think of no better adviser than Dr. Templeton.  He has long been my friend.”

In the first excess of her grief and remorse, Alice Lancaster came home and threw herself heart and soul into charitable work.  As Mr. Lancaster had suggested, she consulted Dr. Templeton, the old rector of a small and unfashionable church on a side street.  Under his guidance she found a world as new and as diverse from that in which she had always lived as another planet would have been.

She found in some places a life where vice was esteemed more honorable than virtue, because it brought more bread.  She found things of which she had never dreamed:  things which appeared incredible after she had seen them.  These things she found within a half-hour’s walk of her sumptuous home; within a few blocks of the avenue and streets where Wealth and Plenty took their gay pleasure and where riches poured forth in a riot of splendid extravagance.

She would have turned back, but for the old clergyman’s inspiring courage; she would have poured out her wealth indiscriminately, but for his wisdom—­but for his wisdom and Norman Wentworth’s.

“No, my dear,” said the old man; “to give lavishly without discrimination is to put a premium on beggary and to subject yourself to imposture.”

This Norman indorsed, and under their direction she soon found ways to give of her great means toward charities which were far-reaching and enduring.  She learned also what happiness comes from knowledge of others and knowledge of how to help them.

It was surprising to her friends what a change came over the young woman.  Her point of view, her manner, her face, her voice changed.  Her expression, which had once been so proud as to mar somewhat her beauty, softened; her manner increased in cordiality and kindness; her voice acquired a new and sincerer tone.

Even Mrs. Nailor observed that the enforced retirement appeared to have chastened the young widow, though she would not admit that it could be for anything than effect.