The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1876-06-17


replied, at is the portrait of one who
was all the world to me. Ethel, my
wife, why have l lost you ?"
/ drew further away from the man,
who, felt sure was monomaniac,
and replied, very gently, "No, my dear
sir, you are mistaken ; my Aunt Ethel
was never married."
"Listen ! will tell you my history.
The lady was, and is still my wife,
though ten years have passed since we
parted"
A light broke upon my mind. l be-
lleved had obtained clue to the mys-
terry. The stranger, seeing his words
had made an impression on my mind,
led me to seat, and, sitting down
near me began his narrative =
"Ten years ago, 1, Cecil Grey" Il
started involuntarlly, for / remembered
Aunt Ethel's emotion and the name),
"left England, the home of my ances-
tors, to try my fortune where 1t could
more easily he won. Here In America
l soon found great advantages. Being
scion of an old English family, soon
gained admittance into the first fami-
lies Of b. At ball given In
honor Of some foreign ambassador, /
first met Ethel Clare. You, who know
her, know that with beauty of person
she also possessed every quality of
heart and mind that could win the love
and esteem of all. / lost no Opportu-
nifty of meeting her, and soon found
that my affection was reciprocated. A
sisters influence had, believe, kept
me from the faults that so often dim
the honor of manhood and l gave to
Ethel heart true and devoted. can
almost feel again the delicious thrill of
joy that filed my soul as she murmur-
ed, "Cecil, love you" Ah, those
hours were too bright to last How
often since, while the sea-gulls shrek
ed above me, have vainly wished that
] could have found grave beneath
them ere every hope of my life faded,
and left nothing but the bitterness Of
death -
He paused. too much excited to pro-
reed, and l awaited anxiously to hear
the end OF this "romance of real life."
"We were married, and for few
months all wore the roseate hue of
youthful love. Ethel had one fault,
though so perfect seemed her character
that it was seldom noticed. She was
jealous. Several times before our mar
riage this evil trait was displayed, but
it only seemed proof Of her love to
me. Oh, what misery that one error
has given us both | About three
months after oul marriage, business
called me away from B., and, leav.
ing my Ethel in charge of q mutual
friend, I left promising to return as
soon as possible. All, that last fare
well, how well do remember it Ethel
was fearful and sad, and said in
mournful tone, Cecil, do not be gone
long have such miserable PRESENT..
mentS.'
1t was the last time ever saw her.
While in c., the place where my
business duties called me, I met an old
friend, who, with his sister, a lovely
girl OF seventeen, had just arrived from
England. l had known Philip Leslie
in my college days at Oxford, and, of
course, the meeting was pleasant one
to both. One evening we had arranged
to go together to the opera, but Philip,
feeling too i'll to 60, gave his sister in
to my care, and we were soon seated
In a box near the stage. A new bari
tone was announced on the bills, and
the house was crowded to overfowing.
l remember feeling regret that my wife
could not enjoy the music with me. Ada
Leslie was very lovely, an English
blonde, with pure, sweet expression.
She often looked at me with grateful
smile. How little did l dream of the
eyes that were viewing the scene in
far different light
In few days left the city, having
concluded my business duties, and
gladly began my home ward journey.
at the house where / had left
my wife, / entered the parlor, but no
Ethel greeted me. Mrs. BrOmlee met
me and seemed surprised that came
alone. Your wife went to c. with
a friend few days ago, but she LEFT
note for you,' she said. / walked to
the window to read it, and my heart al
most ceased its throbbings as / read
lUtSb WOIuOs L udNO hCNCt lOIBOLIcu
them they seem burnt into my memory:
"'Cecil Grey, l know too well your
and from the moment of its
discovery will have ceased to be your
wife, but in name. God forgive you
as pray some day to be able to do. Do
not try to plead excuses for your con-
duct 1t will be useless. l will return
IN my brother, and seek refuge from a
man who has lost all sense OF honor.
Farewell, Cecil, forever
"This was all. Great God-forever
In that moment anger, fierce and pas,
sionate, mingled with the deep sorrow
that filled my soul. No, would not
stoop to explanation. She had gone
without wishing any, and IL such miser.
able jealousy were TO mar our whole
lives, 1t we're better to part. 1t would
be useless to tell you OF the long, long
hours of WEAKNESS that i have spent
since. once, in a moment Of despair
ing love, wrote; but tho letter was re-
turned to me unopened. left the spot
that had become hateful TO me, and
strove among new scenes to find forget
fulness. How worse than folly Forget
the being whose image must live when
all else has faded | Sometimes / have
10 20 tO.her and tell her all,
but pride forbade me. do, not
b nom whaFa aha Ia noM How