The Canton mail. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 18??-1882, 1875-05-01

Austin; there's nothing PARTICULAR
culpable about Your conduct as far as
can discover. I shall be the last one
depend upon it, my dear Mrs. Austin, +
reveal any thing disagreeable concern
ing your antecedents.
"And why will you reveal nothing
Let there be no disguise between us
Mark Dillon. 1 know your brutal ma
ture thoroughly. You came here thi
morning to sell your silence. Is it no
so?"
"You are perfectly right, Mrs. Aus
tin-or Mrs. Dillon. Which is to be
by the way ?"
His tones were defantly supercilious
bis keen, cruel eyes were fixed upor
the agonized woman with something o.
q serpent's pitilees gaze when the prey
is within easy distance, and possession
has become q certainty.
But Mark Dillon started back with
amazement, as Dora answered him,
calmly, scornfully and decisively, in
the following words:
| CT shall not deceive the man to whom
I owe all the happiness I have ever en-
joyed in this world-the man whom ]
love, honor and reverence, as only a
nature like Melville Austin's is worthy
| of being regarded. When I married
him, Mark Dillon, acted upon my firm
| conviction of your death. Now, know
| myself to have been in error, and a
single course remains to me. The in
slant that Melville Austin returns
home, I shall inform him of the truth. !"
care you mad, Dora Dillon ?" he
exclaimed, every trace of his supercil-
ious manner gone, and nothing but q
sort of furious surprise remaining.
position you have won Ito make of
yourself a beggarly outcast 40"
Enough of this, Mark Dillon" she
interrupted haughtily. "Your game
was a bold one, but it has proved a
failure. All, my husband -
Melville Austin had suddenly entered
the apartment. CHANGING at the ashen-
pale countenance of Dora, q look of
amazement overspread his own. Then,
turning toward the stranger, who stood
beside the chair in which she was
seated, Mr.. Austin said, est strikes
me that heard your voice, raised in
rather disrespectfully loud tone, as 1
stood in the hall moment ago. We're
you addressing this lady, sir? Dora,
who 10 this person ?"
A slight tremor shook Dora Austin's
frame, and her CHASTITY lips quivered
for an instant. But only for an instant.
She had risen now, and was addressing
Melville, who listened silently until
she had ceased speaking, stupeded,
doubtless, by the dreadful import of
what she uttered.
"That man, Melville, is my husband.
Five years ago, before you and ever
-
and myself to the last stages of want.
still almost o child in years, Mark Dill
lon asked me to become his wife. We
were married, and I soon discovered
that my wretched, friendlees position
had been exchanged for one of still
greater misery. I had become united
to q man from whose vile, wicked life
my whole nature turned in loathing.
One evening, in ct of drunken fury.
he struck me. That night fled from
his house. During the year that fol-
lowed, succeeded in supporting my
self comfortably on the proceeds of my
needlework. Two months before chance
had made me acquainted with You,
Melville, Ihad learned accidentally Of my
husbands death in France. You know
what followed. To-day learn, for the
first time since our marriage, that Mark
Dillon lives"
"Oh, God, can this be true?"
The words seemed wrung from the
very depth Of Melville Austins agon-
lied soul. Staring frat at his wife, and
then at the moody, crestfallen man be-
side her, his face expressed the keenest
intensity of mental suffering. And now
the icy calmness with which Dora had
spoken melted to passion of sebs.
Stealing toward her husbands side,
she murmurea, brokenly: Before we
part, Melville, say that you forgive me
for being the cause of SO much future
wretchedness-for having brought to
your noble heart q SORROW it has SO little
deserved"
"Part DoraP We INST motive shall
not part I"
He had drawn her to his breast, with
a wild, impulsive movement. At the
same instant the door of the studio was
suddenly Enclosed, and a woman's voice
cried out in clear, ringing tones, 'Mark
Dillon lies, Mrs. Austin. when he dares
to call himself your husband II
wronged, deserted, outrs ged as have
been, am none the less his lawfully
welded wife, married to him seven years
ago in Manchester. Let him deny it
if he dares. You need not scowl and
glare at me-" the woman went on,
Rotiy; "what I speak is the truth,
and do not fear to utter it. "
A low cry of rage escaped billions
lips, as he sprang toward the woman
Who had spoken. But with blow of
iron Melville Austin's hand hurled him
backward. For q moment the villain
stared at his wife's protector with a
tigerish fierceness in his dark, danger
ons eyes, and then, like the coward he
really vas, skunk from the apartment.
And from the house, too, never en-
tering it again. An hour afterward his
wife, Ellen Dillon, followed him,
against the earnest entreary Of Mel
vile and Dora.
"He will beat me when return to him,
perhaps" she said, with q mournful
smile On her exquisite face, "but must
60, nevertheless. It seems like curse,
sometimes, that in spite of his brutality
and wickedness, I cannot hate Mark:
But whenever ! think Of our child at
home. I believe that this weakness is
all for the best. can guard him
against initiating his father; and who
knows what sons influence may do in
failure years 2"
Her sad words left Dora Melville
grave and thoughtful for q long time
after her departure.
"That woman loves him, Melville"
the wife murmured, at length, in slow,
musing tones" loves him in spite of
his villainous treatment. What q mar
velous mystery love is
Marvellous, indeed, Dora!"
"Did you really mean, Melville, that
nothing should part us-not even the
knowledge of being another's wife
when you spoke so passionately just be-
fore Ellen Dillon entered from the
studiof"
Her soft hand had stolen into his,
her fearful eyes were fixed upon his
own, with eager questioning in their
blue depths.
Melville Austin's answer was spoken
with undertaking fondness 81 meant
that, if all the world had striven to sep
arate us, Dora. I should still have