Middletown transcript., 1880-04-03

| then turning to Harold, sald, gu
will attend, will you not, Mr.. DAILY 2"
"With pleasure" he answered, smll-
ing:
done, and as all will, be away to-day,
/ think it is the most proper time"
"Ah you mean that no one will
disturb you p
"Yes, I will have the house to my.
self"
"Well," remarked Miss Chaled
cts too bad, but l suppose if OnefaR :
prevail upon you to 60, you must 4 We
your way. and remain at home. =
By this time they had alp sought
the hall. Harold coming up = Dallis
and slapping him on the s9onlder,
said, tgHa, old boy You er going
to wAite ito her already, are You 2 and
without waiting for feply, with a
harsh laugh, swung himAs I5utiof the
door.
Dallis sought his rosy From his
window he could hear tie preparations
+ going on for the helid in the woods,
4 While he sat with aus head bowed
! uponihis arms, leaiiihg on Agatha's 9
writing desk, When they we're of
and the elatter an laughter had gone
with them. the I'm walls Of his room
were too small hold bis restless
being.
Again he was pacing the balcony
below, then be was out amid the frs.
Coming tetbe seat where they had
| been the H before, he stopped and
folded his an across his breast as
| if to Sep dew1 D. swelling emotions
of "a heart, that times swept over
hiEelsea great resi- ess tide. Gaz-
Sc sYn where he Ead found her in
q he exclaimed aloda q
OH Agatha if this lhystsf
Fo9sy gone, only gone !"
VWould you have it gomez" asked
a voice.
/ Looking up, Just the other side Of
the seat, ina clearing, standing like
himself, was Harold DAILY.
"You are surprised to see me here :?
Well I am surprised to be here myself.
Your wife is devoted tc you, Dallis !;
might have had one as devoted to
me- he said, with a bitter laugh ;
"my life has not been so good in the
past but What | can regret this"
II never told you anything of my
past life,' he continued Well, over
seven years ago, l was attending
school at New Haven. There was. a
little girl four years my junior, who
used to visit relative of hers at New
Haven, quite frequently. She was
pretty and winsome. She resided at
Fairfield with an uncle and aunt ;
there l visited her The old folks
objected to it very much, and finally
forbade me the house. She loved me,
l knew, and l cared for her more
than ever can for any one else. She
was pretty then, she is wonderously
fascinating now. Upon one of my
visits to Fairfield, we went away and
we're quietly married, with two Of her
acquaintance as witnesses, both OF
whom have since married and removed
to Ohio. For six months we lived at
Fairfield under another name, to keep
the old folks from detecting us. She
was then seventeen years old. One
day l was told that they were no rel
atives, whatever; that her supposed
uncle while on a visit to New York
had seen and adopted her and her Sis
ter as his nieces, but as her sister re-
sided at Bridgeport I do not remem-
Der her name. Having heard but
little of her, and that their lives pre-
vious to coming here, was spent in a
bar-room of wretched hole, where
they played the violin, tambourine, or
danced and sang songs as it pleased
the drunken louts around. To be
sure, she was but eight years old when
this life was given up, but who was to
know but that the seeds sown then,
still remained. About this time |
discovered, too, that the man who had
married us, was the minister's son,
who was home on visit from another
State, and that he was not ordained
since have discovered that he was
of this l was then very glad, for
did not wish ever to bring bar-room
girl home as my wife. | told her if l
had known this, our supposed mar,
, riage would never have been, and that
l would not remain with her for the
: deceit she had practiced upon me,
She knew that | hated the low-born,
that if it had been otherwise, l would
have been married over again, as it
was, she could return to her uncle, |
was going home. She threatened to
, bring her witnesses forward and prove
the marriage In her excitement she
} stood up in the boat and threatened
to follow me. My anger was no
} longer under my control, and, in my
! insane rage, | struck her with the oar;
there was splash and scream, and
my boat darted on. Once | turned
, my head to see the white face looking
out of the water at me. You are
f horror stricken, LoOer? Ha! no Won
t der! All through my life that face
has haunted me. You know, last
night I heard that she was still living.
nv father told me she was dead four
years ago, and that her sister had our
little boy, 1 never knew where, until
} the drowning of Mrs Craven. Until
) last night l never knew that my father
had written to her that we had been
+, divorced, but l firmly believe that we
J never we're, that we are still man and
} wife, but she does not know it. Dallis,
| if l could have looked down the dark
? vista of years, when l left her, until
t now, how different her life would have
5 been how different would have been
f mine. But repentance has come too
| late Gladly would l go to her now
and seek forgiveness, but she would
scorn me. The gull put between US,
no bridge can ever span. have told
/ YOU of my dark life, now l will show