Knoxville daily chronicle. [volume] (Knoxville, Tenn.) 1870-1882, 1881-06-19

=
very attitude betrayed the faithful
trust. YY|
= A sudden, generous motive sprang
up II, the scared mans heart. His
own happiness had been blighted,
Might he not make the happiness of
another. HeGcould no longer doubt
that this child lived him. He well
knew by his own pangs the torture to
(which his leaving might condemn her.
So he spoke:
+ Suppose say, Fay, that I shal:
stay only on one condition, and thas
is that my little faithful nurse, who
bias thought fit to save his life, will
take that life into her own sacred
keeping, and that when restored to
health and strength, l leave the farm,
my wife goes with me"
ks"Oh, MIR. Jameson, what do mean9"
r. And now the hot, scarlet face was
buried in the two little hands. Very
tenderly he drew them down, impris-
oning them in his own strong grasp.
Y ais my meaning SO hard, little one7
Cannot your heart interpret it? Have
I read wrongly, Fay? Is it dumb,
like your lips" a~ss >s>se>s- = 1
Then she burst into passion Of
sobs. Otherwise, her happiness must
have killed her. >1sIf@ go ssf
He kissed her tears away, and she,
in broken words, told him, in half.
shy way something of the joy he
had brought into her life. Z
It was his conscience which left
him so little now for regret, he
| thought, in the days and weeks that
followed, which blotted out, and even
| blurred, the would-be memories OF
that far-off time, and which brought
to him something strangely like peace
rs, on the fair morning, i'll the early
June, he walked to the little country
church, beside Fay, and, standing up,
spoke the words which bound them
each to the other till death did them
part.
His mother was abroad at the time.
His father had long been dead. He
was the head of the house. What
would his mother say when she learn
ed the truth? Yet not the whole
truth. She would think love had
been his guide, and he could never un-
| deceive her.
With pain he thought he never
| could feel, he slowly and unwillinoly
| came to the conclusion that he could
| never love as he should love the wife
he had taken to his bosom. A pitt
| full comedy this, but his pride and his
sense of honor babe him hide from the
world his almost Indifference. With
Spartan fortitude he resolved to hide
his pain-yet as time went on he grew
prouder of his wife.
| Still, six months after their mar
rage, he heard of her homecoming
| with a something not all pleasure
Not that she conld say aught to himself
/ which could sting or wound, but she
| had never written him since the news
of his marriage had reached her, and
he feared she might wound Fay. HI
was strangely tender to his young
wife in these days.
cit is because she loves me so well
and L have so little to give in return,
he said, ever to himself, and wondered
it to every man the sense of duty full
filled brought the same quiet happi-
ness.
He grew to feel pride as we'll il
his young wife. Her beauty had al.
ready created comment, and though
she shrank from the demands of SO.
ciety, now that they were winterine
in town, he had no reason to blush fol
his rustic bride.
"My mother will be here to-day
Fay" he said to her, as they sat one
morning at the breakfast table
"Doubtless she will telegraph me of
her arrival, SO that you may look fol
us together, though [ hardly think
the steamer can arrive before evening
and, Fay, if she is not quite cordial
just at first, dear, have little pa
thence. She has always been first You
know, and she may be just little
jealous of her boy" t -aar
"Oh, Harry" size answered, 81 dc
not wonder! I think if | were tt
share your love with any one else il
would kill mel
"To share my love-" he unused, "she
said would kill, What would it be
| if"
But he dared not add the rest.
pardon, madam, l did not hea1
your Knock" said Fay, a few hour
later, as she sat in her pretty boudoir
and looked up III surprise at the ele
CANT woman who, unannounced, Ina,
opened the closed door and intrudet
upon her privacy, and now stood re
garding her with fixed stare.
cit is not my CUSTOM" she answere,
at last, ITO crave admittancs into al,
room Of my sons house."
/ Fay sprang to her feet, comm;
forward with outstretched hands.
"Forgive mel You are then Har
ry's mother. All, now see you hav
his eyes! You did not telegraph him
then, and let him meet your : ], ma
dam, am his WIFE," ~.s-~>s>.-~ -, So
| ellis wife p and in the two simpl
words sounded tempest of concen
trated scorn, while Fay's hands drop
ped to her side, and an expression Of
acute anguish swept over her beauti.
full face. - - .-... :
/ "He loved me, madam, and he mar
ried me-" she answered, with gentle
dignity. t sEE8g u ~.
"Hc loved you?" the other repeated
cruelty. "You do not know, then
that he married you from the yeries'
pity. He had quarrel with the wo'
man who was to have become hi
wife, when Fate threw you in his
path. You betrayed your secret, ant
lie reckless of his life, gave it to you
All, you schemed we'll; but / am NJ
by,,ccr;fo y. Yours r,rettv face does no