"Tom, what do you suppose put it into my head that it could possibly have been the letter which had troubled you? I never once thought of it at the time. I did not dream of your caring to see it. Don't you think it must have been an angel which made me think of it?"
"I don't know, dear," said Tom, solemnly. "It would have been worth while for an angel."
"Tom," continued Sue, "should you have seemed all the rest of our life as you did this day?"
"I can't tell," replied Tom.
"But you could never have trusted me again?" she said.
"Never," he answered.
After another long, peaceful silence, Susan lifted her head again and said:—
"Tom, will you promise me now one thing? Promise me that, as long as we live, you will never bury anything in your heart as you did this. Only think by what a narrow chance we have escaped terrible misery. Promise me that if ever again any act of mine seems to you wrong, you will come instantly to me and tell me. Will you?"
"Yes, Sue, I will," said Tom fervently.
And this was Susan Lawton's escape.
