Clara sat for a long time with this letter before her, her hands and feet icy cold. Shouts of gay laughter came up from the veranda. Were they discussing the effects this letter would have upon the forlorn wife? Clara did not believe human nature capable of heartlessness like that. Doubtless the person who had found that letter and sent it to her, had been disgusted at her blind faith, her submission to gross neglect that would have roused any woman of spirit to open rebellion. Some woman had sent this letter. The superscription revealed that fact. Poor Clara’s thoughts were bitter indeed. She was not lacking in spirit, but it was not her way to bluster and remind her husband of her rights as a wife. He had failed to respect her position before the world, and for this she could not forgive him. She knew well that we cannot command the inward devotion of the heart; that this must be won by charm; and here Clara felt that she was powerless. Still this could not excuse him for deceiving or trying to deceive her. It was so like a common, coarse man’s treatment of his peer. Though Clara felt like sinking utterly beneath this blow, her native dignity supported her. After a while she dressed carefully, and joined the groups below. Towards evening, gossip was busy with the story that Dr. Delano and Miss Wills were stopping at a hotel together at Dover. Clara traced the report to Colonel Murdock, who had been absent for a few days, and had returned by the afternoon stage. Clara found an opportunity to speak to him alone. “I am told,” she said, “that this story about my husband is stated as a fact in your possession.” Colonel Murdock bowed. “Will you be kind enough to repeat it to me, if it is true? I charge you, by everything you hold sacred, to tell me only what you know to be _positive fact_.” Clara was very calm, but there was something in her tone and manner that would have exacted the truth even from the most untruthful. Colonel Murdock had no disposition to deceive, and moreover, he was a very honest man. “Madam,” he said, “I am sorry to afflict you, but it is perfectly true.” “_What_ is perfectly true? Do not mind afflicting me.” “That I saw Dr. Delano and Miss Wills in Dover yesterday, at four o’clock in the afternoon, riding together in an open carriage.” “Might you not possibly have been deceived?” “No, madam, it was your husband; and as for Miss Wills, she recognized me. I may add that she told me distinctly, a few days ago, that she was going to Wolfboro’ yesterday, which was a falsehood.”