“That which a man seldom pardons—although it was done from love to him and his child,” answered Drusilla, in a low voice. “Then you really have a hope that he will rejoin you at Cedarwood?” inquired General Lyon. “At some future day, sir, yes.” “And in the meanwhile you live alone there?” “No, sir, not quite; but with my boy and servants.” “And how do you propose to support the little establishment, my dear? Come, I wish to know your ideas; though I dare say, poor child, you have never thought of the subject.” “Oh yes, dear sir, I have. In the first place, I have nearly fifteen hundred dollars in money, left at home; that will keep us in moderate comfort for two years, especially as I have abundance of everything else on the premises—furniture, clothing and provisions, in the house; and a kitchen garden, an orchard, poultry yard and dairy, on the place. So, at the very worst, I could keep a market farm,” smiled Drusilla. “But in the meanwhile live alone, or with only your infant babe and your servants?” “Yes, sir.” “Then I tell you, Drusilla, that you must not, shall not do so,” repeated the General, with emphasis. “Oh, sir, why would you hinder me?” she pleaded, lifting her imploring eyes to his face. “For your salvation, dear child,” he answered, very gently. “But how for my salvation, dear uncle?” “Drusilla, you cannot know, only heaven can know, how difficult, how _impossible_ it is for a young forsaken wife to live alone and escape scandal.” “But, dear sir, if I do right, and trust in the Lord, I have nothing to fear.” “Poor child! I must answer you in the words of another old bore, as meddlesome as perhaps you think me. Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shall not escape calumny.” “But, sir, in addition to all that, I mean to be very discreet, to live very quietly with my little household, and to see no company whatever, except you and Anna, if you should honor me with a visit, and to make no visits except here.” “But you must go to church sometimes; and when your babe is ailing, you must see a doctor; also it will be necessary occasionally to have your chimneys swept; and the tax-gatherer will make you an annual visit.” “Of course, dear sir,” she smiled. “And yet you hope to preserve your good name?—Ah, my dear child, no forsaken wife, living alone can do so, much less one so very young and inexperienced as yourself. If the venomous ‘fangs of malice’ can find no other hold upon you, they will assail you through—the Christian minister who brings you religious consolation for your sorrows; the family physician who attends you in your illness, to save your life; to the legal adviser who manages your business; the tax-gatherer, the chimney-sweep, or anybody or everybody whom church, state, or need should call into your house.” “Ah, sir! that is very severe! I hope it is not as you think. I believe better of the world than that,” said Drusilla.