“You are not the judge of your sister’s course.  You do not know what she may have passed through.  She knows best, and this is her work alone, her cross.  I do not advocate that parties should separate, until all means for a harmonious life have been tried.  Then, if they find there can be no assimilation, it is far better that they should part, rather than they should live a false life.  The world in its different stages of progress, has been sustained thus far and will continue to be.  We are in the midst of a social revolution, and there must be many separations, and changes innumerable in every form and condition of life.  Truth and error must be divorced, and whatever does not affinitize in mind and matter, in the moral or spiritual world, must be separated.  This is the inevitable result of God’s law, and can no more be set aside than any other which he has ordained.  You speak of ‘disgrace,’ but to me that would come only, when, after employing every possible means to live a full, harmonious life, united, and it is found an impossibility, the two continue to live together despite the decree of God, made manifest in their nature, that it is sinful for them to do so.  This all is within the province of that ‘higher law’ which many profess to contemn, but to which all must sooner or later submit.”

“I wish you could talk with Edward; he holds nearly the same views.  Will you stay with me a few days, until my sister comes, for I have not strength to bear this?”

“I will; but would it be agreeable for her to see any one here?  She naturally desires to see you alone.”

“She loves you, and said in her letter, ’if I could see Dawn, or Mr. Wyman, I think I could gain strength.’”

Dawn had no opportunity to escape, for Mrs. Dalton arrived that afternoon, unexpectedly, and before night had opened her soul to her.  It was while Mrs. Austin supposed she had retired for the night, that Mrs. Dalton sought the room of Dawn; for the heart, while passing ordeals, seeks another to share or to lessen its woe.

“I will in a few words tell you all,” she said to Dawn.  “Twelve years ago I was married, to please my parents and friends, to one toward whom I never felt the thrill which should glow through all our being in the presence of one whom we take into so close a relation.  Between us there never can exist the conjugal relation, for we are to each other but as brother and sister.  Long have I struggled with my sense of duty and moral obligation, and the struggle has done me good.  I have found that my life could not come into fulness, or my being unfold its powers while a relation not of my own choosing was maintained.