“A few-but proofs of his innocence long since established the falsity of the charge, except in the minds of those who seem to delight only in that which dispoils the character of another.”

“But his wife? did she too suffer with doubt?”

“Never.  Not for a moment was her faith in her husband clouded.”

“And this child must be the one they spoke of to deceive me.”

“It is.  I will go with you some day to see him, and if your eyes can detect the slightest resemblance to Hugh Wyman, I shall think you are gifted with more than second sight.  I do not wish to weary you, Miss Vernon, but my friend’s character is too sacred to me to be thus assailed, and I not use all my powers to make known the truth, and prove him innocent.”

“I believe his views upon marriage are rather radical, are they not, Miss Evans?”

“They are.  I join him fully in all his ideas, for long have I seen that our system needs thorough reformation, and that while the marriage bond is holy, too many have desecrated it.  I believe some of the most inharmonious offspring are brought into the world, under the sanction of marriage-children diseased, mentally and physically; and worse than orphans.  I do not say this to countenance licentiousness.  Indeed, I know that licentiousness is not all outside of wedlock.  It is to purify and elevate the low, and not to give license to such, that earnest men and women are talking and writing to-day.  I do not blame you, Miss Vernon, for wishing proof of Mr. Wyman’s purity and honor.  I like a mind that demands evidence.  And now, tell me, have I scattered or broken the cloud that hung over you?”

“You have.  I shall trust Mr. Wyman till I have some personal proof that he is not all I feel him to be.”

“That is the true course to pursue, my friend.  In that way alone you have your own life developed.  If by word, look or deed he ever betrays your trust, I shall call my intuitions vain, and all my insight into human character mere idle conjecture.”

“But I must go now, Miss Evans.  I thank you much for the light which you have given me, and your sympathy, all of which I so much needed.”

“Your position was indeed trying, but do you not feel that your character will be deeper and stronger for this disturbance?”

“I feel as though I had lived through a long period.”

“I have one question to put to you, which you must answer from your soul’s deep intuition, and not from your reason alone.  Do you believe Hugh Wyman guilty of the crimes charged against him?”

“I do not.”

There was no hesitation in the answer; their souls met on sympathetic ground, and those two women loved Hugh Wyman alike, with a pure sisterly affection.

CHAPTER VII.

There are pauses in every life; seasons of thought after outward experiences, when the soul questions, balances, and adjusts its emotions; weighs each act, condemns and justifies self in one breath, then throws itself hopefully into the future to await the incoming tide, whether of joy or sorrow it knows not.