Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1879-07-24

leaving her husband in the way Marian
had left me.
was beginning to get little accus-
| toned to my renewed bachelorhood,
when, one night, very late, a telegram
was brought me worded thus:
Come at once to baby"
The night train would leave in about
an hours time. L packed few things
and started to catch it. In about three
hours more l was conducted into the
room where Marian was sitting with our
little one lying in her lap struggling
hard for life. Some medical man was
already there, bending over the child
and anxiously gazing at its contOrted
and livid features, but as far as l could
see, doing but little to assist in the
battle against death. He left at once,
and Marian looked up into my face and
said.
THANK God, you have comet He was
doing no good. Oh, Haroldl save my
baby, save my child"
Il will do what can to save our child,
1 answered.
| l called a servant and gave my in
structions. In few minutes the room
was filed with vapor, every vent being
carefully guarded, The cloud of vapor
kept on steadily increasing till drops of
water began to trickle down the walls
Still the child on Marian's lap lay almost
chOked, its struggles growing fainter
each succeeding time. The cloud was
still pouring out into the room, and
nothing more could be done, so stood
at Marian's knee, for the approach of
some favorable symptom. Only once
| r. nd 70 och q
with blanched face and faltering lips if
there was any hope.
ITO the last moment, yes" | answer
ed, and she was relieved at once. hardly
comprehending from my words how
faint that hope was.
Presently the struggles grew more fire.
quent; gradually the almost lifelesS
limbs became imbued with fresh vigor,
the heavy lids relaxed, the gasps for
breath became more effectual, and with
mighty effort nature asserted her sway.
In short time the baby was nesting
peacefully in Marian's arms, wrapped in
sweet, life-giving slumber.
When he was laid in his cot, his moth
er turned to me and said pathetically:
"Oh, Harold! when baby was so near
death, and you far away, l could not
help seeing how wicked | had been to
leave you as l did. viii you forgive me-
dear, and take me back, for baby's sake 2
l could only kiss her and press her to
my heart. After while l said:
at was only those words, Will you
forgive me? that l wanted. If you had
spoken them sooner, we need never have
parted"
| Oh, Haroldi how can you? 1t was
not that was asking you to forgive me,
| but my folly in leaving you. 1 am as
innocent of taking that wretched mon
ey as my own child. Won't you believe
me?"
81 do, my darling, 1 do" l replied,
with genuine delight. / would have be-
lieved you then if you had said this to
me; but you know you never deigned
me word, and what was to think ?"
a was so Mortified at your even s,ts-
pectiag me that fancied it was beneath
me to deny it. l can not now under
stand what could have prompted you to
think such dreadful thing of me. 1t is
very hard to BEAR"
| was beginning to wonder, too, how
1 could have suspected my own Marian.
Circumstances and my mother were
more to blame than l, however.
In answer, l murmured something
about Frank.
"Ah, that letter to Frank; remem-
ber it. You were always so hard upon
him that don't like to tell you about it
He really had been trying to keep on
steadily at the post your kindness had
obtained him, but old debts were con-
stantly coming in, and his limited salary
would not meet them and keep him as
lwell. There was one man who pressed
him hard for e10. He had spent his last
Iquarters salary within pound or two
and more would not be coming for some
time. He wrote and told ME this, ask.
ing me to help him, but could not. He
wrote again, and said he must draw on
his salary, but begged him not to do SC
so soon. was sure his employers would
think it bad sign. The man threaten
ed to expose his former habits to the
firm, which, you know, might have ruin
ed him with them. / resolved to help
him this once, and in order to do so sold
my diamond brooch, which l scarcely
ever had occasion to wear. | got $40 fol
it, and sent him notes to that amonnt-
he little guessed at what COST
"My poor, prosecuted, self-sacrificing
little woman; why did you not tell me
iall this? Why could you not trust me p
"Why could you not trust me 2" Mari
an demanded, half playfully, half pa
thetically. Then she added earnestly
81 have been very much to blame !
was proud and Self-willed, and all sorts
of bad things, and then leaving you was
worse than all. Harold, dear, / am SO
ashamed of myself for that No woman
is justified in leaving her husband on so
slight pretext as had.
l thought so, too. She was becoming
the most sensible little woman in the
world but l had been to blame, too; but
l was-not going to let the magnanimity
all be on her side. I'VE were both to
blame" replied, II am not going to
exonerate you quite, little wife, but
am going to own my own fault. was
a brute to doubt you. Marian, you must
forgive me, dear"
i "Oh Haroldl we shall be so happy
again, now, shan't we?" the little wo-
man replied and then wound up our re-
Cancellation in true Womanly style,
with tears and smiles and kisses.
But the mystery of the money was
still more dark after Marian's explana-
tiOn, and it was months before we pene-
tratedit. We did so at last, however.
| Our piano being sadly in want of re-
pair, 1 sent to professional man to
come and s'do itup" l was in the room
when he proceeded to to take it to pieces.
As soon as the front was removed per-
ceived a little black box snugly lodged
inside, which Immediately recognized.
Ny grand idea now flashed into my
mind. Here, then, was the clew to the
mystery. 4 Das the thief In my anxi-
ETY. had placed the money inside the
piano while still under the influence of
sleep.
| Marian was delighted She actually
| shed tears of joy when / told her of my
discovery.
"Ohl you abandoned man," she said,
LII. i L. -.