Perfect I call Thy plan,
      I trust what Thou shalt do.

And in some way and through some intelligence he was counseled as he slept, in two words—­Mark Sewell.  And he wondered that he had not thought of his wife’s physician before.  Yet there was little need to wonder.  He was always at the mill when Doctor Sewell paid his visit, and he took simply and reliably whatever Mrs. Harlow and Jane confided to him.  But when he awoke in the misty daylight, the echo of the two words he had heard was still clear and positive in his mind; consequently he went as soon as possible to Dr. Sewell’s office.

The Doctor met him as if he was an expected client.  “You are come at last, Hatton,” he said.  “I have been expecting you for a long time.”

“Then you know what instruction I have come for?”

“I should say I do.”

“What is the matter with my wife’s health?”

“I ought to send you to her for that information.  She can tell you better than I can.”

“Sewell, what do you mean?  Speak straight.”

“Hatton, there are some women who love children and who will even risk social honor for maternity.  There are other women who hate motherhood and who will constantly risk suicide rather than permit it.  Mrs. Hatton belongs to the latter class.”

John was stupefied at these words.  He could only look into the Doctor’s face and try to assimilate their meaning.  For they fell upon his ears as if each syllable was a blow and he could not gather them together.

“My wife!  Jane—­do you mean?” and he looked helplessly at Sewell and it was some minutes before John could continue the conversation or rather listen to Sewell who then sat down beside him and taking his hand in his own said,

“Do not speak, Hatton.  I will talk for you.  I should have spoken long ago, but I knew not whether you—­you—­forgive me, Hatton, but there are such men.  If I have slandered you in my thought, if I have done you this great wrong——­”

“Oh Doctor, the hope and despair of my married life has been—­the longing for my sons and daughters.”

“Poor lad!  And thee so good and kind to every little one, that comes in thy way.  It is too bad, it is that.  By heaven, I am thankful to be an old bachelor!  Thou must try and understand, John, that women are never the same, and yet that in some great matters, what creation saw them, they are today.  Their endless variety and their eternal similarity are what charm men.  In the days of the patriarchs there were women who would not have children, and there were women also who longed and prayed for them, even as Hannah did.  It is just that way today.  Their reasons then and their reasons now may be different but both are equally powerful.”

“I never heard tell of such women!  Never!”