“Always, always,” she replied, with earnestness.  “There is no blinder folly than that of grasping a present worldly good, at the expense of violated justice.  Whoever does so, comes out that far wrong in the end.  There is only one way that leads to peace of mind:  the way of honor and right.  All other ways, no matter into what rich harvest fields they may lead in the beginning, terminate in wretchedness.  There never has been, and never will be, any exception to this rule.  We see its operation daily, turn our eyes whatsoever way we choose.  And God forbid that I should deliberately enter the way that leads to ultimate unhappiness!  Self-denial in the present is better than gnawing regret in the future.  The good things of this world prove to be curses instead of blessings, unless the mind be rightly adjusted for their enjoyment.  And such a right adjustment is impossible where the very fact of their possession involves a moral wrong.  I see this so clearly, Doctor, that I shudder inwardly at the bare imagination of committing such a wrong.”

“It is by trial that God proves us,” said I, “and may He bring you out of this one, should the trial come, as gold from the refiner’s furnace!”

“Amen!” was her solemnly uttered response; “if it should come, may I be found strong enough to do the right!”

For over a week this search for a will was continued, until it was clear to all concerned that no such document was in existence.  Then preparation was made for the visit to England, in search of evidence bearing upon the identity of Mrs. Montgomery as the sister of Captain Allen.  Two or three months elapsed, however, before Mr. Wallingford could so arrange his business as to be absent for the length of time it might take to complete his mission.  He sailed for England in June, between three and four months after the marriage of Delia Floyd.  He called to see me on the day before leaving, and I had a brief but pleasant talk with him.  He was in good health and good spirits, and anticipated a successful visit.

“I shall gain,” he remarked, “in two ways by this trip.  Professionally and intellectually.  I have had many a dream of that land of our forefathers—­England—­now to be realized.  I shall see London, walk its streets, and linger amid its historic places.  Don’t smile at this almost boyish enthusiasm, Doctor.  London has always been the Mecca of my desires.”

I had never seen him so animated.  A higher life seemed flowing in his veins.  His countenance had a brighter aspect than usual, and his head an erecter carriage.  There was a depth of meaning in his eyes never observed before—­a look as if some new born hope were lending its inspiration to his soul.  Altogether manlier was his aspect and bearing than I had ever seen it.

“God speed your mission,” said I, as I shook hands with him in parting.

“If it depends on human agency, directed with earnestness, patience, and will, my mission will have a prosperous result,” he replied.  “It is to be my first entirely self-reliant experience, and I think the discipline of mind it will involve must strengthen me for higher professional work than any in which I have yet been engaged.  You are aware, Doctor, that my heart is in my profession.”