She promised to
try. But it was of no use. She heard the call of the idols. She could
not resist and bowed down and worshiped them. Before the year had passed
she had plunged into hopeless debt and in her mad devotion sacrificed
her husband with all his hopes and honest ambitions upon the altar. The
music, the lights, the dresses, the compliments, the promise of opening
doors into the society in which she wanted to shine, for a time drowned
the sight of his suffering and pain. Then suddenly he yielded to
temptation, was discovered taking money that was not his and the gods of
fashion and pleasure forgot them both; the doors of society closed and
she was left with nothing but her bitter thoughts. It was a costly
sacrifice but a common one which the Idols accept again and again.
Hardly two blocks below was another home with its lawn, its flowers, its
neat window boxes and its young trees. There in his nursery was a little
two-year-old. He stretched out his hand to his mother and cried when she
passed through the hall and down stairs. He had not been well for some
days and missed his old nurse who had been dismissed for a slight
offense the week before. He did not like the new nurse. His mother did
not know much about her. She seemed kind and she was very courteous in
her manner.
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