The anti-monopolist. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1874-1878, 1878-08-29
LITERARY
VICTOR:
The story Of u Mad Lover.

DO people often wonder at their own
happiness? Certainly was wondering at
mine, as sat alone in my pretty drawing
room, resting back in my chair, allowing
nv Berlin work to fall unheeded on my
lap, while my eyes wandered here and
there, surveying with fond pride my pos
sessions.
Many of the pictures on the walls, the
BONES on the mantel. the clock, chair
here and there, had been bridal presents :;
and as only one short year had passed
since l came to my kingdom, 1 had no
time to weary.
A year ago, and 1 had then thought
myself a happy girl. | had yet to learn
the full happiness which comes to every
loved and loving wife; but had especial
cause for gratitude in a fact which might
present pain.
Before met Will, my husband, had
been engaged to young man by very
few years my senior, when one discover
cd his father and grandfather before him
had died inmates of Dunatic asylum.
NV parents ir medlately broke off the
engagement, and was too sensible not
to bow to their decree. For time l
was very miserable, but soon after I met
Will, and learned that into his keeping
had passed the one true love of my life,
end he held it so tenderly, so sacredly,
that soon there was not even scar TO
mark the old wound.
But the tears came freely to my eyes,
nor did Will reproach me with them,
when, some six mcnths after my marriage
l learned, in the full flush of my happiness
that Victor Struthers sad fate had over
taken him, and that he, too, had fallowed
in the steps Of those gone before; that
never again the light of reason would
shine within his eyes, or the words of love
he so we'll knew how TO utter fall from
his lips.
These thoughts slowly came back to-
night as | sat alone-the FIRST evening l
had spent alone since my marriage; but
Will had been called away by important
business, and would not be back until
late, perhaps not until tomorrow.
Once more the tears came within my
eyes as l contrasted my lot with Victor's,
or shuddered at the fate which would
have been mlnc had followed my first
mad impulse to be his at any cost.
Yet, had not the loss of the girl he
loved fastened his doom9 The physi-
clans said not; but their verdict would
not satisfy my nervous dread. l sighed
long tremulous sigh at this latter
thought.
And surely--was ii imagination9-
somewhere within the room the sigh was
re-echoed.
We had in the month Of roses two long
French windows, draped with blue satin
and lace, opened on vernada, which, as
the evening was cool, were closed and
fastened but rs glanced round, with q
strange misgiving at my heart, saw the
folds of one tremble.
The window must then be open; yet
felt no air.
With this thought ] arose from my
seat, stepping forward to ascertain the
cause, but had barely taken single step
when stopped, my blood frozen, unable
to make another movement, or even part
nv lips to scream for help.
On the blue surface was mans white
hand-no ruffian's hand, but white and
handsome.
A ring CLEANED on one of the fingeEs,
and on its lustre my eye rested. fasci-
mated as the dove by the serpent. Where
had seen that ring bsforef Somewhere
surely, though where my tortured mind
could not reason.
Then snmmsning all my strength and
courage, with desperateeffort turned tc
leave the ROOM Onceput closed dool
between myself and that white hand
whose invisible owner might 1t any mo.
ment step from his concealment, and
might know what best could be DONE
Now was blind with terror, and could
scarcely see, though the room va ofll-
iantly lighted, to erope my way 70 tne
door. s.