West Virginia argus. [volume] (Kingwood, W. Va.) 1877-1946, 1877-12-22

why she never answered your letters.
You were but seventeen when you
clOped with that villain mere child
and surely she might have given you
some words of help and comfort when
your heart was almost broken by his
baseness. True, he was your welded
husband, and held you by a bond
stronger than that of parents; but their
silence was cruel and | cannot forgive
them for it
You do not know how have tried
their love. My father warned me against
the man, my mother told me OF his
falsehood and wickedness, and / de-
ceived betrayed them both. oh, | was
guilty of such base subterfuge, il seemed
as if demon had entered into me, and
! was no longer my real self. Whatever
they said only increased my obstinacy
and made me more infatuated with the
object of their censure. Besides, YOU
must remember, my father had reason
TO think | robbed him the night of my
departure, though the theft was com
mitted without my knowledge, and by
the wretch into whose hands ] had
trusted my honor and happiness. That
could have been so blinded TO his real
character seems impossible now but he
had winning, plausible manner, and |
was vain and foolish, fond of fattery
and admiration"
" You fled to America at once, did you
not, and wrote home from thcre?"
Yes. My husbands villainy was
first revealed TO me on board of the ship
that took us over | accidently came
across the money he had stolen from my
father, and recognized the pure that
held it as one | had knitted myself.
asked for an explanation, and he gave
it boldly, gloating over the idea of what
he called just and righteous vengeance,
instead of the hateful crime il seemed
to me. 1t was there found out there
had been feud of long standing be-
tween him and my father, and that il
was for this he had married me, and
thus struck his enemy to the heart"
Though the villain is dead, il makes
my blood boil TO think Of him, Kate.
But did you not mention all this in your
letters-the vile plot, the stolen money !"
Yes, and more too. / told of my
desolatc condition in New York, alone
and friendless, for as soon as we landed
| fled from the wretch whom the law had
made my husband. He followed me,
prosecuted me, prevented my obtaining
any respectable employment; and oh !
| the terrible life that | led those two
years that he lived. 1t is dreadful to
say it, but his death was actually re-
lief"
And they never answered your let
tersv said her husband Indignantly.
81 cannot understand such vindictive-
ness"
The first one was returned un-
opened" she answered ." of the others i
never had any tidings. But am sure
they would have forgiven me had they
known it all. 1t may be the letters were
| intercepted. The suspicion has occurred
to me lately that they fell into my hus-
bands hands, and that he re-mailed and
stamped that first one to deceive me and
prevent my writing others"
Don't call that man your husband,
Kate. 1t makes me shiver. He was
capable of anything, and / have no
doubt your suspicion was correct. But
surely you wrote after his death?'
did not, she replied "I was so
utterly heart-broken, by all that had oc-
CURED, as to believe myself ali Outcast
from love and kindness forever more.
You know what / suffered, and how
went from place TO place, vainly seeking
employment. The stage was the only
means of livelihood that offered itself.
All can | ever forget from what life
you rescued me, the humble ballet
girlT'
But remember you said il was from
love, not gratitude, that you became my
wife. For ! am old enough to be your
father, Kate, and had you refused me
what ! craved, would have adopted you
as my daughter"
Old in years but young in heart, F"
she answered. off my first marriage
was n wretched mistake, my second is
indeed blest, and crowned with such
happiness as ] never hoped 10 enjoy"
The carriage had reached the suburbs
of the city by this time, and now
stopped before large house with an old
fashioned, hospitable aspect very in
viting.
Home at lastp' said the gentleman,
! jumping out as nimbly as if he had
| beed younger. Come, Kate"
She followed, and leaning on his arm
went up the steps and into the house.
/ No further allusion was made by either
/ to the subject Of their conycrsation
\ during the drive. But the thoughts of
one kept continually recurring 10 the
/ child she had seen in front OF the
confectiOner's; and when Kate Hillard
/ closed her eyes in sleep that night, il was
with the firm resolve to see Norah's
father early the next day, and find out
I who he was and whence he came, for
Norah's words, Norahs looks. seemed
/ like an echo from the past, and had in
them something Of the spirit she remem.
| bered
Norah's thoughts were as full lof her AZ
hers Of Norah. Such lovely lady ~
unused the child as she hurried home.
81 don't think papa would have minded
my taking the money, if he could have
heard all she said, and seen exactly how
she looked. II is New Years Eve, and
what if she were not real lady, but
/ just some fairy going about doing good
I saw q nice old gentleman inside her
I carriage, though, and live coachman
on top. ] guess she's flesh and blood
| like the rest, only kinder and more
thoughtful"
/ It was toward a wretcbed quarter OF
/ the city that NOrah bent her steps, and
/ The tenement where she stopped was old
and dilapidated and crowded with
human beings. She ascended the stairs
/ and found her way to room dimly
\ lighted by q tallow candle. The dooi
| stood Open and she entered softly Then