Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1879-08-28

81 shall travel, he said 81 intend to
find my wife wherever she has hidden
from me. l sinned to win her, and if |
cannot have her love | shall have her
life"
could not bear to look upon his agon-
lied countenance expressive of misery akin
to madness, and as | turned my eyes away,
line of cabs came rattling down the slope.
| From the window of one nearest, a beautiful
| young face shown for moment like star
through the twilight. | saw the jannty
hat with its sweeping white feather, the
dazzling blue eyes, and then the cab rolled
on.
"A travelling operatic troupe explained
my companion, observing, but not rightly
understanding my evident sudden interest
1t is billed for concert at the Academy
tonight.
and | have lost my train and must
wait for the next, answered rather ir-
ritably. "Good night, Chichester. | shall
take the weird old road around the ceme-
walk in this unexpected moonlight"
The full, unclouded moon was rising as
| loitered on, now around a curve where
the stream widened like sheet of silver,
and now under dim arch of budding trees
that shook their scented dews upon me as
passed.
AS | reached the bridge, a tall. slender
woman, wrapped in black cloak, hurried
out of the avenue AS she saw me- she
uttered a sharp, startled cry, and shrank as
if in fright. At the same moment her hood
fell back, and in the splendor of the moon
light | saw the white face of the stranger,
who had passed me an hour before. She
was trembling nervously, and seemed so
helpless and bewildered, that stopped in
stantly.
81 am sorry startled you, " l apologizeA
kindly; and then noting her doubtful, crit
ical glance, | supplemented: ''Or perhaps |
you have lost your way9"
''Not at all, " she disavowed quickly; II
am going to the station. When | saw YOU |
thought"
She paused, glanced backward appre-
hensively and shuddered.
Can | help you in any wayl" asked,
puzzled.
Il think not" She smiled rs if my
voice had calmed her, 81 only wish to catch
the train, that | may meet the New York
express at the next station"
care you not afraid of the long walk
along the river?" l inquired wonderlngly.
eyes" she answered, frankly, 81 am
But nevertheless must Gn--f WIS % sing
in the concert tonight, " she went ON nur-
riedly; ''but there are reasons, imperative
why must go TO New York at
once. The manager was angry-quite
furious, mdeed-so, to avoid scene, |
quietly ran away
She said this with such charming ndiCcte
that laughed, and that laugh made us
friends then and there. She seemed inno-
Gently pleased when informed her that /,
too, was on my way to New York, and
should be glad to care for her comfort on
ing away through the moonlight on the
midnight express did the shadows vanish
altogether from her most beauteous face.
But that wild rush through the delicious
air seemed to inspire her, and often she
would laugh like happy child. | parted
from her at last at the house of an elderly
lady with whom she resided when not
travelling.
"You have been very good to me-" she
Said, as | was leaving her.
''Have | commended myself to your
friendship ~ | quericd.
Her answer was satisfactory, and for
weeks saw her every day. | knew she
loved me, and knew, too, that had loved
her from the first. But always when
spoke of marriage she seemed troubled and
undecided
eve are just as happy now as we can be,
Phillip" she would say sweetly.
'No, we are not, Edith" / would pro-
test / want you for my wife, and l mean
to have you"
But at length she yielded, and we were
quietly married. was very proud of my
wire--proud of the admiration that followed
her everywhere-of the honor and rever-
ence she won from all who knew her. She
was being made for love and for husband
to adore No ignoble human passion or
emotion ever disturbed her sweet soul (; |
anger and hate and all petty feelings were
things her nature could not know.
After three months of content and happi-
ness, | took Edith to my home, in the town
where l first met her. 1t was early in May. |
The scent of wild violets was IN the air, the
trees were budding and the grassy hills
were golden with dandelions. My grim old
house, set among its pines and weeping
willows pleased her.
81 shall have that picture taken down,
l said to her one day. 81 cannot bear to
have even the portrait of poor Chichester's
wicked wife in the same house with you,
Edith"
Chichester !" she repeated, her blue
eyes fixed on my face with look could
not understand.
eyes, DEAR" | resumed. 'fHorace fitted
up this place for that woman before she de-
serted him and ruined him-body, brain
and soul, fear"