Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1870-05-06

was coming to my side, but he only looked
at his watch, and said,
''Be kind enough to let me have break
fast at once, Violet, if you can. am in q
hurry' Tor L have important matters to
look after
Irang the bell at once, and placed my
self at the head of the table. When the
cheerlesS repest was over, and my husband
rose to go, felt the hot tears binding
me. could not let him leave me in an.
ger. had made step toward him when
he spoke, and his words reused all my old
anger and discomfort.
Violet" he said, 81 may not be here
to dinner. Don't wait for me; it is i'm
possible
MAKE no excuse, sir" replied, haugh-
tily; ''none are needed"
Oh! those sad, reproachful eyes But
his lips uttered no retort. He only said.
"Good-by, DEAR" and went out.
l watched him from the window, hidden
behlnd curtain, rs he rode away through
the driving rain.
The memory of that day comes back to
me like terrible dream Toward evening
my agony became unendurabIe; and rs tEa
rain poured III torrents, / determined to
drive over to my husbands Office in the
nelghboring village. About half way, we
met covered carriage, containing q iady
and gentleman.
''Why, that's MIR. Reade ~ exclaimed nv
driver, as the vehicle dashed past us.
One glance confirmed his words It
was my husband, and by his side was the
same woman that I had seen with him
once before. My resolution was taken on
the instant. I ordered my servant to drive
back to Swans Nest. 1 would not wait my
husbands return, said to myself: could
not even charge him with his inf1delity:
would go away at once, and never let
him see my face again.
In short time was ready for my de-
parture. wrote note for Horace, tell
ing him that believed our marriage had
been an unwise one, and that should be
happier with my own friends. begged
him not to hunt me down as fugitive;
but to leave me to follow the bent Of my
inclination. Iput the note upon his table,
and then went out from the home, where
my life had been SO happy. In less than
week my father and / were on our way{
to Europe.
At the expiration of two wretched yesFs
we returned and learned from oursfkw-
yer that my husband had sailed for Gina.
first making over to me, in fee eimLG. ali
his real estate. He never, so the(snwyer
said, expected to return. / wen5 back to
Swan's-Nest. Everything was u hanged.
The rooms were just as I hadTeft them.
My husband would not leF them be
touched, the housekeeper, said. "Had
oAO CfCL ASdLu 1EOM 1lXG aSke0.-
"Only once" she repliod, land then the
letter contained another it was on NV
dressing-table. L went for it myself, and
read it, sitting there in our old room,
Violet, it Ebegan, ''yo1 must pardon
this intrusion. 1t will be the last, for in
all human probability, the disease that
now consumes me will soon give me q
grave in foreign land. But there are O
few things l wish to say before die. I
- 10 ,1o5ro zIlA
the first. But l desired to spare you what
you might consider disgrace I thought
you could and would trust me. It was nv
sister you saw. She was vain and frivol-
GUS, and eloped with profigate. The
marriage was illegal, and Ethel was dis
graced. She came to me for help. I
could not refuse her. 1 was taking her to
a safe asylum when was absent that
night. You understand il all now. Don't
be troubled, dear, but forget me, and be
happy. My sister is dead now, and I
have not, 1 fear, long to live. God bless
you, dear In heaven all these wrongs
will be righted"
For two years L lived alone at Swans
Nest-two years of inexpressible agony;
then the news came A steamer, hcme-
ward bound, from Calcutta, was lost, and
That was the death of hope
Another year dragged by. One sweet
May evening / strolled down to the sea-
shore. The sun was setting in waves of
gold and purple, and a full moon came up,
flooding the great sea and the long stretch
of giittcring sand with misty splendor.-
The tide rolled in with low, musical
murmur. | sat down on rock.
Far out upon the bar, stately vessel
swung at anchor, and little boat from it
was coming in. l watched the tiny craft
with kind Cf fascination. Presently il
grated on the sand, and man sprang
ashore.
A wild, nameless hope took shape in my
heart. l arose and tottered forward, blind,
and half-unconscious. The instant after
strong arm elapsed me.
looked up into the face above me. 1t
was wan, and worn, and changed by suf-
fering, but knew it in an instant.
"Oh, Horace my husbandP' 1 cried.
"forgive me-"
Then felt his tears upon my cheek, his
kisses on my lips. The happy world,
drowned in the splendor of the spring sun
set, faded out and sunk into his arms in
sensible.
1t is all over, the remorse, the Ioneli-
ness, the aching pain We live at Swans
Nest, my dear, forgivfng husband and
myself.
I had engaged my passage, he said, in
the steamer that was lost. But fell ILL,
and could not come then and that sick
ness has restored me to you. thank God.I
thank him also, daily and hourly, for
this undeserved, this perfect bliss.-Petey-
sons for JLay.
The Amnesty act.