Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1874-02-05

these years had kept account more or
less closely of his habits and welfare.
knew that he was often driven from home
by his business, and that he was obliged
to be away many days at time. sent
the letter in fear and trembling. and bided
my time. In few days had notice
from banking-hou in New York that q
certain sum would be paid me every year
by order of Mrs. Isabel Deane. 1t was
precisely the amount of the allowance l
had mentioned in my letter-not an ex-
travagant sum, but just enough to support
my boy and me decently.
"She could spare it well enough, and,
after all, don't know why should be
sorry for doing it. She had had more
than her share of happiness, but / have
often wondered how she took my little
thunderbolty heard she went to Europe
with her children"
a high, constrained voice, as if she had
been wound up to run just so many min
utes. She now shrank down among her
pillows, and seemed to be bracing herself
to receive my wrath in whatever form it
might break upon her.
For one black instant I had a savage
longing to clutch her throat, and shake
out OF her what little life she had left;
but the great ioyfulness of the tidings that
| could send to Isabel swept it away. I
should have been pagan indeed to give
another turn to the rack on which remorse
and disease had long bound her. | felt
only contempt for the workings of such
a mind when she looked into my eyes
again.
~ see you have been furious" she said,
reading me as if / had been printed in
the largest type; "but now you have
turned scornful. You used to be a devout
admirer of Mrs. Deane, who, with all her
tameness, could fascinate men and women
both know all the wires that men are
pulled by: but l never had woman
friend, unless yott will be that one"
IL, your friendl" / said, with q
shudder that did not try to hide.
Never mind" she said YEARLY; 81
can do without it as | have always. see
your interest in me ends with this inter-
view. You would trample me under your
feet if you could help Mrs. Deane by it."
"That Is of course. may think of you
in connection with Mrs. Deane's sorrow
as one thinks of the serpent in the ruin
of Eve: we follow her fortune ever after,
but don't know that anybody cared what
became of that particular serpent"
~ was sore tempted" she pleaded,
"and could not see my boy starve."
Where is your boy now"
ooh, he is dead. ! never Tepented till
then"
And If he had lived you would never
have undeceived your victim; you would
have let her drag cut her life in torturing
doubt of her husbands faith?"
Eyes, | think So"
"And | think so too" said, drawing
my cape, which she had never let go,
out of her hand. "You are mistaking
remorse for repentance; but at least, to-
give you your due, you have done one
good thing before il Is too late"
She turned her face away from me with
a movement Of Impotence, as il she half
grudged even that one white thread In a
whole life woven out of evil, and went
quietly out of the intirmary and ran all
the way to my own house.
While Madeleine Dejoux's words were
fresh In my memory, | wrote every one
as she had spoken them; but they could
not reach Isabel in less than fortnight,
and would not prolong her pain even
that length of time.
wrote half dozen kilograms before l.
could hit on form of words that salts
fed me.
One was: "Madeleino Dejoux has con
fessed her deception" And another:
"The woman who wrote lying letter to
you IL dying" but / feared the telegram
would be opened by stranger, or by one
Of the children, before IL should reach
Isabel, and the questions and surmises as
to its meaning would be endless. At last
settled on this: "Glad tidings Of great
Joy. Look for letter."
Then made three copies OF Made
lene's confession, and sent them on sue
cessive days to Heidelberg, that Isabel
might be nearly sure of getting one OF
them, If the others failed
Then 1 sat down and folded my hands,
so TO speak, feeling myself the center OF
great stretch Of peace ana calmness, as
people do after a troublesome piece OF
work is fairly finished, and folded up and
laid away for future use.
never saw again the wild, selftortur-
Ing woman who had first stolen and then
restored Isabel's comfort, but the matron
sent me notice of her death two or
three days liter my visit to her.
I'm less than two months Isabel came
home, bringing her children. She looked
worn anu dlltICu Dut euC owCUtt oVis w"
of happiness again frightened her eyes
and flushed her cheek. Her talk, as OF
old, was full Of simple, innocent, womanly
matters, untouched by the sarcasms which
had come over the sea in all these years,
and had prcked me like arrows We
spoke no word of all that had come and
gone between US. We just buried the ugly
skeleton, and put no stone to mark the
place. But when she was again settled in
her old home, with her workable In front
of Mr.. Deane's portrait (Which she had
begged from his sister,, | sometimes
caught her returning glance AZ she gazed
long upon it; and constantly read in
her face, " Forgive me, forgive me. 0 my
husbandr'
To hear with eyes Is part Of Loves nne wit,
and ours was but woman's friendship !;
but loved Isabel Deane well enough for
that --Gdk1ry.
The Lawrence Kansas) Republican
Yo..ux,<,J dnoap,t hn1t avn that II Ia wQi1 tn