Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1872-09-26

as cold She would have summoned the
doctor, but that lady forbade. Howev-
er, the need of medical aid became inn
perative in the morning, and as days and
weeks went by, Mrs. Randolph lay in a
half helpless state, only rousing herself
at times for a short excursion through
the house.
Meanwhile Percy Lee Noir's suit had
/ prospered. Marguerite had yielded to
his pleadings; and already, with the
signs of the invalid's recovery, prepare
tions for the wedding were in progress.
1t was very late one evening, her low
er had Just taken his departure, and
! Marguerite Randolph had summoned her
| father to see the grand costume, the airy,
sheemy, gossamer fabrics, che exquisite
| lace, the orange blossoms, the lucent
pearls, and they became her beauty
! well.
''My little Southern daughter!" her IA
ther said, with pride and pleasure in his
| looks and voice.
81 am not Southern girl, papa" she
cried. Il was born in New York"
Eyes, darling, but you caughht the
| Southern beauty somehow. | never
could understand it, for you were in the
pOubIl Jul wv y 1Cdlo VI }OtiI DdbI IlCONl'
But, papa, your own eyes and hair
! are dark as can be, she urged.
Ozark! yes, but none of my family
ever looked like you, Marguerite. Your
| father is proud OF your beauty"
And he kissed her fOndly, tenderly.
How his poor little wife would have re-
joiced in such kisses. While his lips
were still pressed to her forehead, a cry
broke the silence of the house.
mamma! mammal" cried Marguer-
tie, breaking from her fathers embrace
and rushing into the outer hall. There
was great well staircase, and up this
she sped, for the cry had come from
above. There were doors opened in the
hall below where the servants rooms
were situated, but Marguerite reached
her mother first. Poor Mrs. Randolph!
she lay on the landing of the staircase,
moaning and Writhing and pointing be-
yond-above.
Good help me, What shall do ? she
cried.
And Marguerite raised her tenderly,
while Mr., Randolph, who had reached
the spot, bent down with a grave, con-
cerned countenance and took her into
his arms. He laid her in his own room
and sat down beside her Then both
urged to tell her what had allied her.
E'Oh, Bertrand :" she said, Il saw
thought saw am i'll. Help. save
me ="
And she sank back in q dead, white
faint.
For weeks she lay and moancd and
wandered in delirium, crying that she
had seen him, crying that Marguerite
must be married. crying Bertrand to love
her if only a little And then when,
one bright Spring morning, she was al
lowed to rise once more, her reason all
restored, a blow fell upon the house
hold, an irretrievable, fatal blow.
Mr.. Randolph slipping his coffee and
perusing his morning paper alternately,
rose with fearful cry, a cry such as
some wild beast might utter, grew black
in the face, gasped and gurgled, threw
his hands aloft and sank back into his
chair and, pointing with trembling fin
GER to the sheet before him, seemed to
ask with his wild eyes, for his tongue
could not frame the sounds, the mean
ING of the words before him.
Marguerite looked up in alarm.
''Helen," Mr.. Randolph said, after
another effort, tell me what this means;
what the demands for money which you
never used, what the escapade at night
of which I learned too late, what terri
bic apparition in this house.
The miserable wife looked him in the
face, her great blue eyes widening with
terror.
1T has come at last" she cried,
"Wherc are my letters ?"
rTboyr low I,aciJo ba,. 1,1a+a y,-or va
custom at the Randolph mansion. She
turned them over, one. two. three. in
the same ignorant, scrawling hand, those
letters which she had not read because
of her sickness. She shivcrcd as she
ed upon her lord and MISTER with a new
born cOurage-the courage of a hunted
creature at bay.
II have deceived you bitterly" she
said, land | know that you can never
forgive me but | will tell you all.
Listen, husband; listen, Marguerite.
Fourteen years ago, when | was in the
the South for our ailing infants sake,
Bertrand, our daughter died
Her husband clenched his hands firm
ly together, and marguerite gaZed in
wild alarm. 1t was plain she only doubt
GQ Der MOJlcfS sanity.
Bertrand" the WretchCd wife went
on, ''our daughter died by my own care
less act. | dared not tell you. [ have
always feared you until now, Bertrand.
and | could not bear that you should
suffer as I did and have suffered all the
fortunes of remOrse, and the pain Of
having deceived you for all these miser-
able years, alOnc-alOne. | sought a
child to adOpt-One as nearly like my
lost babe as it was possible to find-and
Marguerite IS that child.
Here the wOman's breath failed her;
but, after a moments pause, she went
resOlutely on.
They told me she was utterly abandon
ed but two years agO-I ask no pity,
Bertrand; | am ready to die-tWO years
ago, Marguerites father came to me and
claimed her He had proofs undeniable
that she was his child; that being left
by his WIFE who afterwards died, her
child was left to the care Of some poor
people, who carried her to the city au-
thorities. Don't Marguerite. Bertrand,
Just one moment) The man wanted
money. He haunted me. He set his
new wife-a negro woman, like his first
to follow me about | could not tell
you. Marguerite, it was for this | want
ed you to marry soon, and now | have
beenill, and the letters have been unan-
swered, and all is lost; they only want
my money, Bertrand"
Then the woman sank trembling, cow
ering, utterly broken down, and Mar
guerite fled, shrieking, from the room.
TOO late to save her from disgrace"
muttered the stricken man-''tOo late to
save her happiness. Her lover is a South
erner, and to him the tinge of dark blood
would seem "a deadly faint. Woman! l
curse you-curse you for your cowardice
and your deception"
A few hours later, the woman who
had suffered such lingering agony, such
bitter punishment, lay dying.
The trial that was to restore Marguer-
lite to loathsome, degraded home, never
took place, for the man who claimed
her would have yielded to anything for