The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1874-08-18
0be Gimts, Nsrp BloonraelO, lpa.

clusion-she had no right to his love until
he knew all and If he knew all, ne him
self would withdraw it from her, She was
not ready to trust him, because he had
been so old for his years, so fixed in his
ways, SO unimpassioned, during all the first
months of their married life, that she could
not believe it would be in his power either
to understand or to forgive her. So she
went on, bearing her burden through slow
days and silent nights, until the anniver-
sary of her wedding-d day came round.
Through the day, her uncle and his wife,
and few other friends, were with them
The little festival was of the husbands
planning, and the wife felt that in barely
living through it, in hearing and answering
congratulations upon her happy fate, she
had gone to the uttermost limit Of her en-
durance. The guests wondered at this
white, still wrath, this unwifelike bride,
this woman whom single year seemed to
have turned to stone. Joseph Hannaford's
heart sank within him. Was nothing,
then, left for him but to plant rosemary
over the grave of his hopes How thank
full he was when the last guest was gone.-
He came then and stood beside his wife,
and drew ring from his pocket.
81 don't know that you will care for it
now" he said "but got this ring to
give you as the token of new bridal. If
you could love me to-day as we'll as you did
one year ago, think could make you
happier, for understand better what love
means to women"
She drew away the hand he had taken
A brilliant color famed in her cheeks,
and her heart throbbed chokingly, but a
courage which was half desperation shone
from her eyes. She spoke passionately.
"You must not put that ring on you
must never say one tender, loving word to
me again until you know me just as am. +"
Then, told clearly, steadily, unfaltering-
ly, without reserve or concealment, her
story came. 1t was the story Of her whole
married life her disappointment because
he did not love her enough her patient
little endeavors to please him, which bore
no fruit then Hugh Waring's interest and
tenderness and, last of all, his love, and
the strong temptation it was to her. And
then she cried, almost with sob-"I 1t has
nearly killed me to have you SO good anG
kind as you have been lately. Every FOND
word or deed has pierced me like knife
for / have thought how different you woulG
be if you knew it all. And the more low
ed you, the more wretched was"
He took her close into his arms, in {
clasp which meant peace, and pardon, and
above all, love. He bent over her, anC
said fondly--" Dear, did know it all
ever since the night before Waring left
and it never turned me from you for I
single hour. / blame myself too much t.
blame you"
She felt as if her heart, which she haC
been breaking with woe before, woult
burst how with rapture.
"Joe," she cried, "you are divine p'
I" No, dear, very human but love you
Are you ready to wear my pledge ?"
So, in the gathering darkness, he slipped
his ring upon her finger, and in the JOY o
new bridal they two were make one.
The next day she wrote two lines, whicl
she sent to an address Hugh Waring ha'
given her, the direction of his New Yorl
bankers =
, "Mr. Waring-I am, and always shal
be, your faithful friend but IOUe my hus
band"