It was several days after the festival before the news of the
Latham divorce was made definitely public by a paragraph under the
heading of "Society News," in one of the New York papers, though of
course the rumour had crept into every house on the Bluffs, by way of the
back stairs.
Miss Lavinia was greatly distressed, and yet did not know exactly how to
act in the matter; for though Mrs. Latham was seen driving by, as usual,
Sylvia made no sign.
We may read of such cases often enough, and yet when the blow falls in
the immediate neighbourhood, one must feel the reflex of the shock. While
sympathy for Sylvia keeps the thing ever present, like a weight upon the
chest, I find myself wondering if anything could have been done to avert
the disaster, and we all rove about in a half unsettled condition. Half a
dozen times a day Lavinia Dorman starts up with the determination of
calling upon Sylvia, but this morning decided upon writing her a letter
instead, and having sent it up by Timothy Saunders, is now sitting out in
the arbour, while Martin Cortright is reading to her from his manuscript;
but her attention is for the first time divided, and she is continually
glancing up the road as if expecting a summons,--a state of things that
causes an expression of mild surprise and disappointment to cross
Martin's countenance at her random and inapropos criticisms. I see that
in my recent confusion I have forgotten to record the fact that Miss
Lavinia has fallen into the role of critic for Martin's book, and that
for the last ten days, as a matter of course, he reads to her every
afternoon the result of his morning's work, finding, as he says, that her
power of condensation is of the greatest help in enabling him to
eliminate much of the needless detail of his subject that blocked him,
and to concentrate his vitality upon the rest.
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