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Corydon's headaches and prostrations seemed to be growing worse, and she could simply not get through the winter without some help. As the book was ready, they had some money in prospect, and their idea was that they would buy a farm with a good house.
So, whenever she had been unhappy, there was the possibility that she had done some irreparable harm to the child! And that made more problems for an over-worked and sensitive artist. He soon saw that he had to suppress forever the side of him that was stern and exacting. Such things had a place in his own life, but no longer in Corydon's.
There was a knock upon the door. Corydon's pulse fluttered, and she whispered, "Here he is!" She could scarcely speak the words, "Come in". But when the door opened, she saw that it was the doctor. Her heart sank, and she closed her eyes with a moan of pain. Could it be that he was not coming? Could it be that she had been mistaken that he did not love her after all? She must see him she must!
One of Corydon's rich friends had told her of a certain famous surgeon, and Corydon had gone to see him. He had a beautiful private hospital, and his prices were unthinkable; but he had seemed to be interested in her, and when she told him her circumstances, he had said that he would try to "meet her halfway."
Corydon's emotions did not come in the same way as her husband's. With her a joy had to be a spontaneous thing; there could be no reasoning about it, and it was not the product nor the occasion of any act of will.
They went out and telephoned to Corydon's father, and Thyrsis got hold of a college friend, a lawyer, and the four went to the office of the dead man. It was weeks before they became sure of the whole sickening truth, but they learned enough on that first day to make them fairly certain.
Corydon's mother came to help her through this ordeal, and would sit for hours upon hours, rocking the wailing infant in her arms. Section 3. But there were ups as well as downs in this tenting adventure.
And in spite of all resolves, he was up with the dawn next day, and walking to the village he must see her once again! He went to the depot with her, and upon the platform they said another farewell; thereby putting a seal upon Corydon's damnation in the eyes of the maids and matrons of the summer population. They had opened a wooden box which lay beside them. "Ten years!" she said.
All the time Thyrsis was writing, writing thrilling with his ecstasy, and pouring out all his soul. He kept a little diary these days, and for weeks there was but one entry "The book! The book!" And then one day came a letter from his mother, saying that she was coming to the village nearby to spend the summer; also that Corydon's mother was coming, and that Corydon would be with her!
He was thrilled all through him with the thought of her; how wonderful it was at such an hour to have some one to communicate with some one in whose features he could see a reflection of his own exaltation! He recollected the words of the old German poet "Der ist selig zu begrussen Der ein treues Herze weiss!" He went to Corydon's home.
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