Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1877-06-06
THE STORY OF lIARLY,
BY E. Y. BLAKE.

odd you lever know George MarriottY'
said Herries to me as [ lay smoking on
my blanket, supper over, and Miner
heaping wood on the fire.
took the pipe from my lips and
paused. The name, a strange souvenir
of New York folly, fashion and wicked
ness, came to me oddly enough here, on
the dark, silent, far-lying prairie, with
the purple, solemn twilight, starlit,
bending its hollow arch above, and the
faint, sweet, crescent moon, hung away
in the west, beside the evening star.
Over the swells glimmered the white
tapped wagons and twinkling lights of
the emigrant camp.
"Iknew his wife, repeated emma
Mansfield-a fair, tender woman, as
good as gold. knew of him-and that
was enough. Why, of all memories, do
you recall his to night?'
" He's over there" answered Herries,
with q jerk over his shoulder toward the
emigrant camp.
Cover there? George MARRIOTT"
:" saw him. I've been over" said
Herries sitting down, with a thoughtful
ca pISSSIOii. vi GIlc SIdSc.
IAN emigrant? Foremost in all fash
ionable folly and dissipation as he used
to be- Why, these people are going down
to Tucson, Miner tells me-"
Yes. Hadn't you heard, before we
left New York, Of the scandal? How his
wife obtained divorce broken hearted,
poor thing-and went home to her faith
er?''
eyes; knew it well. She had two
children, and the law decreed them hers"
That can't be, Rafe."'
"Why certainly, dear fellow. Emma
told me herself met her in the street.
They were her sole remaining comfort
these two children"
But he has one with him now
Impossible!"
. | saw her, RATE. A poor forlorn
child, six or seven, perhaps, with her
nlother's face. [ talked with him a few
minutes. He's degenerated into some
thing brutal. Poor little thing"
But | can't get over it." said I, in
the extremity of my amazement.
q George Marriott an emigrant! And
the child" | sat some time smoking,
then got up.
q believe / will take stroll over
Want to Gomez"
"No. Had enough of it, They're a
rough set, miners and hard characters in
profusion. They're drinking consider
able, and I think we'd better shift our
camp"
"Ef We mind our biz, they'll mind
theirs, I guess" said Miner, gruffly, and
81 P11f Of
you're going ter git inter a skrimmage,
you'd best not so alone. I'll go eff We
Wanter."
"All right, come along" and we
strolled away from the fire. 1t was
longer walk than it looked, glancing
across the swell; but presently the deep
toned bass of big white dog warned
the occupants of the nearest wagon Of
our approach.
"Lie down, Cris,' quoth a tall, un-
shaver individual, who turned in easy,
unconstrained fashion, as if to do honors
of the camp to the unexpected guests
turned, stared and colored with sudden,
embarrassed astonishment; for it was
George Marriott's self.
q Mr. Ransom, [ believe. Never felt
very well acquainted, yet [ knew you
after fashion," said he, with ready,
plant courtesy that smoothed over the
first tinge of vexation; for he was
plainly not glad to see me. set it down
to the score Of his changed position and
consequent unwillingness to meet those
who had known him in better days.
Then, too, / had been friend to his
poor, wronged wife.
Some easy commonplace passes be-
tween us, and then child's plaintive
voice spoke from the wagon.
"Papa, is the soup most ready? I'm SO
hungry"
Yes, yes, directly. Lie down." He
spoke impatiently, and gave savage stir
to the kettle over the fire.
"Why, that is MarlyF' I said invol-
unfairly.
His face darkened.
"To be sure" he said, with forced
laugh. '1 didn't know you knew the
child. You seldom came to the house,
and | hardly knew you, myself. Yet
Emma said you were acquainted long
wears ago. How oddly things come
about he continued. '"To think that
YOU and I, of all people, should meet
here in the wildernessp'
1t was the first time he had referred to
his wife or his married life; and now it
seemed to slip which he was fain to hurry
over.
at is strange" said |, "But surely the
life is rough for the child. Is no one
with her? Can [ speak to her? She
sn't a-bed?'