He had neglected to marry until he had become of settled legal and business habits, and more than forty-five years of age when he chose for a wife a young lady who professed to admire and love him.  They had no children.  The wife was a coquette, and began to woo admiration almost as soon as the nuptials were done.  Judge Whaley thought nothing ill of this; he was in the heyday of his practice and willing to let one so much his junior enjoy herself.  Among his law students was a young man from South Carolina, of brilliant manners and insidious address.  This person had already become so intimate with Mrs. Whaley as to draw upon the Judge anonymous letters notifying him that he was too indifferent, to which letters he gave no attention, only bestowing the more confidence and freedom upon her, when, happily, as it was thought, the wife showed signs of maternity.  Perry was born, to the joy of his father.  The young mother, however, hastened to recover her health and gayety.  The favor she expressed for the student’s society was revived and not opposed by her husband.  Judge Whaley returned unexpectedly one day to his residence; he came upon a scene that in an instant destroyed faith and rendered explanation impossible.  His wife was false.  The student passionately avowed himself her seducer.  The Judge went through the ordeal like a magistrate.

“Take her away with you,” he said.  “That is the only reparation you can do her, until she is legally divorced, and after that, if necessary, I will give her an allowance, but she cannot rest under this roof another night.  It has been the abode of chaste wives since it was builded.  My honor is at stake.  This day she must go.  Make her your wife and let neither ever return.”

They departed by carriage, unknown to any, and never had returned.  But a few weeks after they disappeared a letter was received by Judge Whaley, admonishing him that his son was the offspring of the same illegal relations.  It was signed and written by his wife.  The wretched man debated whether he should send the infant to an asylum or keep it upon his premises.  Through procrastination, continued for twenty years, the child had derived all the advantages of legitimacy, and still the demon of the husband’s peace was the test of the gentleman’s religion.

As this story had proceeded toward its final portions, the young man had detached himself from his father’s arms.  When Judge Whaley concluded in the darkness he waited in vain for a response.  The old man lighted the lamp and peered about the room wistfully.  Perry was gone.

That night, in the happiness of her engagement, Marion Voss had a glad unrest, which her mother noticed.  “Dear,” said the mother, “let us go over to the Methodist church.  It is one of their protracted meetings or revivals, as they call it.  If Perry comes he will know where to find us, as I will leave word.”