"A moment, dear husband," she said. "I have something to tell you, something that will grieve you. I do not know how it happened, nor does the good doctor know. He has heard of only one such case before. I am not in pain; I do not suffer. It is much to be grateful for, and I am humbly, humbly grateful. It might have been so much worse." "Rachel, my beloved," said Aaron, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Keep your arms about me, my honored husband. Let me feel your dear hands, your dear face. Kiss me, Aaron. May I tell you now?" "Tell me now, my beloved." "Look into my eyes, dear. I cannot look into yours. Dear husband, I am blind!" CHAPTER XVII. DIVINE CONSOLATION. The shock of this revelation was so overwhelming that for a few moments Aaron was unable to speak. In the words of the prophet, "His tongue clave to the roof of his mouth." His soul was plunged in darkness, and a feeling of passionate rebellion racked his heart. That upon his sweet and innocent wife should have fallen an infliction so awful seemed to blot all brightness out of the world. Nay, more--it seemed to blot out the principle of justice, to render it a mockery and a snare. The sentiment which animated him was one of horror and indignation, and he yielded to it unresistingly. What had Rachel done to deserve the cruel blow? Not with a crown of sorrow but with a crown of glory should she have been crowned. And was it not natural that he should rebel against it? He was her champion, her protector, her defender; she had no one else. Should he stand tamely by and show no sense of the injustice which had been inflicted upon her!