Six years from the day Jessie Loring laid her bleeding heart on the marriage altar had passed.

For over three years of that time she had not stepped beyond the threshold of her aunt's dwelling, and only at rare intervals was she seen by visitors.

She had not led an idle life, however; else would her days long ere this have been numbered.
To her aunt and cousins she had, from the day of her return, devoted herself, in all things wherein she could aid, counsel, minister, or sustain; and that with so much of patient cheerfulness, and loving self-devotion, that she had become endeared to them beyond any former attachment.

There was an odor of goodness about her life that made her presence an incentive to right action.
Long before this period, Mrs.Loring had ceased all efforts to lead Jessie out of her self-imposed seclusion.
"Not yet, dear aunt! Not yet," was the invariable answer.
The day on which she received formal notice that her husband had applied for a divorce, she shut herself up in her room, and did not leave it, nor hold communion with any one, until the next morning.
Then, with the exception of a wearied look, as if she had not slept well, and a shade of sadness about her lips, no change was discernible.

When the decree, annulling the marriage between her and Dexter, was placed in her hands, she seemed bewildered for a time, as if she found it almost impossible to realize her new position.
"I congratulate you, Jessie Loring!" said her aunt, speaking from her external view of the case.