"Of course I saw all these things as though I saw them not. I was perfectly aware of my position, and I resolved, under all circumstances, to control myself, and never descend, whatever might transpire, to a war of words. I appeared in public as seldom as possible, lest Stahle should find cause of offense. I was as scrupulously attentive to him and his interests as if I did not know that my best endeavors would now be misconstrued. I felt no faltering in my desire to make his innocent children happy and comfortable. I spoke to no one of my discomfort. I said to myself, I have made a great mistake, and must bear the consequences with what fortitude I may.
"I little knew the deadly malignity of Stahle's disposition. I little knew the penalty I was to pay for the difference which nature and education had made between us.
"One day Stahle came home looking unusually moody and sullen. He found his dinner nicely prepared, and the children neatly washed and dressed. The parlor was tidy, I was courteous; there was nothing to find fault with, nothing to irritate, not the most slender foundation for a quarrel.
"Stahle saw this--he could have wished it were otherwise. He was at a loss how to proceed. After taking one or two turns across the room, he said, 'Gertrude, I want all the children's clothes packed in a trunk, and ready by noon to-morrow.'
"'The children,' asked I, in surprise, 'are you going to send the children away? Where are they going?'
"I asked no questions; I simply said 'The trunk shall be ready,' and went on with my sewing. I did not know then as I do now, that it was the first of a projected and deliberate series of attempts to injure me, by creating the impression that the children were not well cared for. He could not well have wounded me more deeply. I--who had so conscientiously striven to perform my duty to the motherless. I--who, when any little question between the children was to be decided, gave the preference to _his_ children, lest I might wrong them even in a trifle--those 'trifles,' which, to childhood are matters of as grave importance as our adult affairs.
"The cunning malignity of this act was worthy of Stahle. I made no complaint, I asked the children no question which I was too proud to ask the father. The little trunk was packed, and Stahle remarking that he should be gone two days, the carriage drove off. It was some comfort that the children ran up to me, and put up their lips spontaneously for a kiss, as they were leaving; it was more still that my conscience acquitted me before God of any intentional sin of omission toward them.