In the light of retrospection the unnatural and monstrous deed she had contemplated, seemed fraught with a horror scarcely inferior to that which lends such lurid lustre to the “Oedipus;” and now she cowered in shame and loathing as she reflected upon all that she had deliberately arranged while sitting upon the terrace of the Villa Reale.  Could the unbridled thirst for revenge have dragged her on into a monomania that would finally have ended in downright madness?  Once nominally the wife of the man whom she so thoroughly abhorred, would not reason have fled before the horrors to which she linked herself?  The rebellious bitterness of her soul melted away, and a fervent gratitude to Heaven fell like dew upon her arid stony heart, waking words of penitence and praise to which her lips had long been strangers.

Adversity in the guise of human injustice and wrong generally indurates and embitters; and the chastisements that chasten are those which come directly from the hand of Him “who doeth all things well.”

When Mrs. Waul came back Mrs. Orme was still kneeling, with her face hidden in her arms, and the letters lying beside her.  Laying her wrinkled hand on the golden hair, the faithful old woman asked: 

“Did you hear from your baby?”

“Oh!  I have good news that will make me happy as long as I live.  I shall soon see my child; and soon, very soon, all will be clear.  Just now I cannot explain; but thank God for me that these letters came safely.”

She rose, put back her hair, and rapidly glanced over two other letters, then walked to and fro, pondering the contents.

“Where is Mr. Waul?”

“Reading the papers in our room.”

“Ask him to come to me at once.”

She went to her desk, and wrote to General Laurance that letters received after their last interview compelled her to hasten to Paris, whither she had been recalled by a summons from the manager of the Theatre.  She had determined, in accordance with his own earnestly expressed wishes, that from the day when the world knew her as Mrs. Laurance it should behold her no more upon the stage; consequently she would hasten the arrangements for the presentation of her own play “Infelice,” and after he had witnessed her rendition of the new role, she would confer with him regarding the day appointed for the celebration of their marriage.  Until then, she positively declined seeing him, but enclosed a tress of her golden hair, and begged to hear from him frequently; adding directions that would insure the reception of his letters.  Concluding she signed:  “Odille Orme, hoping by the grace of God soon to subscribe myself—­Laurance.”