Weekly Trinity journal., 1879-11-29


your heart. The poverty could have
borne with you by my side became hate
full. brooded until t-ifes grew to fierce
grievances. / began to think you were
mad in wasting your time; that something
should be done to save you. At this
period, when irritation at your supposed
neglect possessed me, l met Captain
Laseelles."
Bertrand Fermoy leaned quickly for
ward.
"He noted the change in my appear
ance. He offered sympathy. Blindly i
accepted it. made him my conadant.
| found comfort in having an old friend
near me, who could talk Of my late home
and family, One day, however, Captain
Lascslles threw efl the mask. 1t was
the last straw on the camel's back.
telt alone-helpless To avoid this man
l fled from you to my father for protoc-
tion. was wrong; but, Bertrand, were
you wholly without blame?"
He did not answer; only q sharp spasm
contracted his face.
II found the hall closed my father was
on the continent. followed, and arriv-
ing there to fall i'll of fever. On recov>
cry told my tale. My father wrote to
you. The letter was returned. You had
gone.
~ believed you we're glad to have
been rid OF discontented wife. My faith
or. delighted to surround me with every
kindness, fostered the belief, and, believ>
ing my love was dead, accepted my
new life.
"But," aud Alice Fermoy's tones now
trembled slightly-"again had m isread
my heart. soon found tho poverty and
solitude had had with you were never
SO hateful as the luxurious ease | now en-
joyed. / craved, Bertrand, as a wrecked
soldier Graves for rescue, for a touch Of
your hand-to see your eyes gazo upon
me as once they did. Tonight l have
succeeded. Bertrand, do you believe
what have saidP Win you pardon
will you take me back home"
The struggle within the man was fierce
and long, but his sense of wrong con
quered.
"Home "he CALCULATED with harsh
laugh, as he glanced round. "Truly,
this looks q suitable Que for Squire Ken
dails heiress -
Bertrand, it is not Squire Kendail's
heiress, but you wife, who pleads. Oh,
have you no pity2"
Unnoticed by either, the child had ris-
en- in the bed. Now, extending his tiny
hands, he cried,
Mamma mamma -
"Berte, my boy!" calculated Alice
Fermoy, in tones that thrilled the bus-
band.
Swiftly she had darted to the bed
Kneeling there, she had clasped the child
to her breast, pressing a shower Of kisses
o his fevered face.
"Great heaven |" cried Bertrand Fer
moy, his whole love rekindled for his
wife in presence OF danger. "Woman,
you know not what you do | A virulent
fever has been raging in this nelghbor>
hood, and-and the boy has it -
A startled glance leaped into the gray
eyes raised to the speaker, but tho child
was clasped closer yet.
"Our Bertie i'll, and you would have
hidden him for me? Oh, BeatIandi"
she exclaimed, "IIeaven has been kinder
in bringing me here at this time A
mothers peace is by her sick child -
Alice |" cried Bertrand Fsrmoy,
hoarsey, "thls fever is fearlully conta-
gious Put down the boy |"
"Not, Bertrand, until l am forgiven.
/ have no dread of death till them" she
replied, calmly, firmly.
lie trembled with violent emotion.
"Alice, il what you have said be true
'iis not you, to blame" he cried, For
give me, my wife !"
She fed to him, and, with burst OF
joyous tears, fell on his neck.
Bertrand" she cried, "hold mo to
you; let me not go ] have learned a
severe lesson. Hencefortb, poverty with
you, dear, is better than wealth to mo
alone"
"Oh, my Alice |" he sm lied, fondly
cardesslng her. but it's not poverty
offer you. No-riches, fame, prosperity;
for this night, which has restored wife
to her husband, and mother to her child
has also brought success to my discovery