St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1880-01-03

times sUspiciously ut her. But her
withdrawal from society, her mod
est demeanor, her mdoubted dis
tress, commanded respect ana SYM
pathy. Besides, she was rich, and
that covered ii multitude of sins.
And so she had lived her lonely
life, with heart that knew no sur
cease of sorrow-that only knew in
creased regret us the days wore into
years, and she knew, as positive
certainty, that Marcia Stanhope had
not been in love with her husband,
nor be with her.
And now the New Years Eve
had come again, when the bells
should ring i'll the New Year, whose
burden for Sylvia would be just
what the old had heaped on her
shoulders-woe, woe, unutterable
woe, almost uncomfortable.
While her husband, his wrath
long subsidized, but pride yet too
warm to so to his home, wandered
all over the fair face of the world,
restless, miserable, unhappy, yet,
strange paradox as it may seem,
ever yearnins for the woman who
was his wife, his darling-the
woman who had been SO cruel, so
cruel!
But somehow his restless roam
ing had brought him home again,
and tie last of the bright winter
days found him i'll his hotel, not a
mile from the mansion where he
knew Sylvia was-Sylvia, who hated
him; who had said she hoped never
10 See his face again.
And L am sure lie had forgotten
he had sworn never to look upon
Sier face again.
Then, one day, it came to her I'M
expectedly, so suddenly that it
shocked her into white, trembling
fear-the casual report that Mr..
Hope was IN the city, at the North
umbria, and not looking well-in
fact, very shockingly broken in
health and appearance. Then her
heart almost broke with loving
sympathy and pity.
4 will go to him. I will 90 and
kneel at his dear feet for forgive
ness. Oh, heaven, go before me,
and prepare him to take me back
to his love again!"
So, before she tasted another
meal, Sylvia went and dressed in
her quletest dark dress, and in an
unostentatious hired cab, was driven
to the ladies' entrance, and asked to
be shown to AIr. Guy Hopes room.
She then dismissed the servant who
escorted her, and gathering all her
courage, knocked at the door, SO
fearful, so hopeful, her breath al
most stopping, lest she might be re-
pulsed. But she heard no answer
ing summons to enter.
A little exclamation of unendura-
bic agony escaped her, and in des-
perutlon of fear she turned the knob
and found the door unlocked, but
the room was empty.
For ten, fifteen minutes she wait
ed, and then went back to the man
aser, simply saying she would wait
no longer for her husband; and he
knew her so well that he was not
surprised when she begged him not
to tell MIR. Hope she had been there.
Then, heari sick and disappoint-
ed, she returned to her desolate
home-desolate as she had left it,
but never to be desolate again, for
standing in the reception room, her
husband was waiting, eager to catch
her III bis out-stretcAed arms.
Sylvia, my wife! l have come
to be furgiven."
And. a light shining on her face
that might have been reflected from
an Angels, she chung, agitated, to
him.
oh, Guy. Heaven is so good to
US, after all. Can you ever forgive
me and love me again?"
And the latter life began, more
blessed and beautiful than the
former, for never again was it MARI
ed by distrust, or jealousy, or tenn