Few husbands could have done so then, and he was not an exception.
Wholly exhausted he lay quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again it was of Genevra. Even here he did not try to screen himself. He was the one to blame, he said. Genevra was true, was innocent, as he ascertained too late.
"Would you like to see her if she were living?" came to Bell's lips, but the fear that it would be too great a shock prevented their utterance.
He had no suspicion of her presence, and it was best he should not. Katy was the one uppermost in his mind, and in the letter Bell sent to her the next day, he tried to write: "Good-by, my darling," but the words were scarcely legible, and his nerveless hand fell helpless at his side as he said: "She will never know the effort it cost me, nor hear me say that I hope I am forgiven. It came to me last night, the peace for which I've sought so long, and Dr. Grant has prayed, and now the way is not so dark, but Katy will not know."