The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1875-01-08

he had expressed in words, in his FASH
ionable, affected way.
"At last I recollected what / had
been going to say, and told him
wished to be left alone. He silently
took out his card, laid it on the Chin
ney-piece, and went out.
81 don't know how many hours re-
manned lying on the sofa, with my eyes
shut, in that strange torpor; but it was
night when I opened them, and found
my wife standing by me. She had
| lighted the candles on the chimney
piece, and was STOPPING down over me.
She started upright as my eyes opened,
but she did not avoid them. She con-
fronted me, arching back her nymph-
like figure, and leaning one hand on O
table behind her. I felt no emotion at
sight of her, brt looked at her as if she
had been a picture. Her beauty was
splendid. All her fair golden hair was
turned off her white face in a sort of
glittering aureola. Her great turquoise
blue eyes fared under slightly con-
tracted brows /; the nostrils of her deli
cate, straight nose and her infantine
mouth expressed rage and pain.
am glad you are awake said
she; want you to hear me say hate
you!
"'I don't care, said I, YEARLY. $50
away
"Her face famed out with the fury
that was burning her heart.
So But you do care !" she cried you
shall care I tell you always laughed
ried you from pique-because he left
me. I got into his family and toadied
them, and made myself their servant,
only to hear of him, and to feel nearer
him, and be where he had been-I love
him So I love no one else in the
world-I never did. I would kill you,
and dozen like you, to save him from
a fngerache. would rather a thou
sand times have q blow from him than q
kiss from you-a hundred million
times When think of you, and that
you are between us, hate you-I alb
hor you How dare you smile at me?
I'll kill you
was quite unconscious of smiling !;
but she darted at me, and struck at my
throat. I caught her hand this time
she had penknife in it, and I felt that
she had pricked me. That instructive
act of sef-defense reused me, and
probably saved my wits as well as my
life. When I had mastered her and
in mine till she put down her face and
bit them savagely. I tied her wrists
with my pocket handkerchief, and she
sank painting on a chair. All of sud-
den the unhappy creature burst out
crying as If her heart was broken-as it
well might be. Probably Ringwood' q
cool treatment of her throughout the
interview recently was at the bottom of
that frenzy of vituperation, that des-
perate behavior toward me. She did
not hate me, but was simply mad with
pain, and raved and struck out in her
delirium. I think she really liked me
when she married me, notwithstanding
her assertion to the contrary, and
meant and wished to lead a new life /;
but the sight of Ringwood's name in
the papers, and the knowledge of his
nearness, in my absence, revived her
passion for him, in which her good
resolutions burnt like straw. I released
her hands, and brought water and put
it to her lips /; and when she was quiet
through exhaustion, advised her to
lie down, and hoped she would
go to sleep. AS I was leaving the room
she called me back, in a low, broken
voice, and when I stood beside the sofa
on which she lay, she joined her hands,
and asked me, with streaming eyes, to
: forgive her. I did SO, freely. OF
course, Ringwood was right. I had no
one but myself to thank. My infatua-
l L1Ou uAu U66A 80 u1Ou6tTOu6 tuA6 L
could no more complain of the conse-
quence than man, sober, can COM
plain of the consequences of some
drunken folly.
"In the morning took Fanny away
to a farmhouse in Kent, a place she
knew of, and chose herself for q retreat.
She was quiet and humble, and appar-
emily broken-spirited. But she did not
remain there month; nor do know
whittier she went, or where she has been
ever since. Before she left she wrote
me long letter expressing her remorse
at her behavior toward me bad as
am,' ended she. I will never trouble
you more. I do implore you to be sure
of that, and to forget me, or think OF
me as dead
ct am afraid to think of her at ALL
made every possible effort to trace
. where would be the good if sue
: ceeded.
"That's all, +" added Urquehart, after
moments pause ssand there's the
} history of your friend and the wife OF
his bosom and If you still wonder how
or when my devil got into me, don't.
believe you love me enough to think
! he is not SO black a devil as he is
painted. am not the kind of man in
whose heart such cash could be made,
,, |, and heal, and leave NO mark. For q
! long while this world seemed, and often
! does seem, really an Inferno nothing
but p1unging and breaking ones heari
4 in a swamp of suffering, with intervals
Of quiet from mere exhaustion and de-
J, spair. Ah. Charley how I wished your
mother had been alive WANTED some
; kind woman, that was honest and pure,
about me; we men all do in our dark