Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1882-09-07

an instant. paralyzed-an instant too
long; for it WAS her husbands voice
that answered IL
.Muricl." he said, ''for Heaven sake,
calm yourself. or you will break my
heart, Why did YOU come here9 Why
did YOU impose this ordeal on us both?S
WHY did come herc'' she answer
ed. You can .sk me whyg Did YOU
not hcartlessly invite mes | thought my
! pride equal to your hardness. III he
! has so forgotten the past thst he can ask
! me to live under one roof with him and
the woman he has married, will prove
! that am equal to the proof | could
have borne it 10 the end but that when
| YOU held my hands and looked into my
| eyes tonight all the past rushed over
me- and buried me beneath its ruins
The past. when l heard the little
whispered, Yes from your lips. Muriel,
| and thought it the sweetest sound in all
! the universe. 1t is not for you to recall
the past, who so rathlessly destroyed
/ it.
1T was my pride, Gerald. When tho
| crash came. which ruined my father and
left me an orphan and penniless, lwrote
| you your release. | knew that poor
wife would drag you down where you
/ should rise. Your uncle wrote that I'M
less your wife brought you dowry
| equal to his inheritance, he would dis
| inherit YOU. 1t was cruel, mercenary,
and unjust in him. | grant you that;
| but | was so sore and bitter i'll the
! realisation of my poverty that | released
! you. You believed it sprung from other
reasons as well. For little time | fos-
tered your jealousy thinking it would be
| easier for you thus to give me up; but
| after you had left me, Gerald, l knew
| then to what | had condemned myself,
| and my heart cried out against its tor
ment until one day | sat down and
wrote you, asking, nay, imploring you
to forgive and return to me; that we
would DEFY fortune and the world to-
gcther The day read your marriage
| in the paper. that note was returned TO
me through the dead letter Office.
| Through some mistake it had never
reached YOU
A deep groan burst from Gerald Ons-
lows white lips.
you drove me mad!" he said II
met my wife, and read in her eyes pure
and innocent love. | knew that she was
rich, that all the conditions my uncle
had imposed would be fulfilled. Twas
desperate Six weeks from the day |
met her carried off my prize. / had
almost learned to be happy in her smile.
| The knowledge that was not SO would
break the child's heart"
"And we will not break it, Gerald, y
| answered the sweet, low voice. "Shc
must never know the truth. Tomorrow
l will go away. We shall see each other
never again, but Clare shall know no
shadow on her sun. Only, in your
thoughts. Gerald. remember that my
burden is heavier than yours, and so
think kindly of me"
"Muriel, l cannot let you go" he
said
For Clarc's sake" she whispered,
$50, go, quickly, them" he said.
Quickly she obeyed him; but when
she drew asid, the portere to pass out,
the room beyond was empty.
A half-hour later, when Gerald re-
turned to the drawing-room, he found
| liI'iG MS W lit llttNi luttiC iti 'NNlIN'o tuNi
retired. The excitement of the evening
had brought on a severe headache, she
had said: but a few minutes after. when
he tiptoed into her chamber, he thought
her sleeping, she lay so quiet upon her
pillows. She was still i'll the next day,
when Nurel sought her to say farewell.
Il must leave YOU to-day. she said,
''but | want you to know that | have
learned to love you very dearly, and when
you think of me, will you give me little
corner in your hearth
A moment Glare hestated before she
answered; but she looked into the pale,
beautiful face bending over her, and
dared lay no blame to her. 1t was the
cruel sport of destiny, not that she had
been to blame, so she kissed her and
whispered Yes but in her heart she
knew that her burden was heavier to
bear than the woman who had laid it Oh
her
Yet that she carried it she gave no
outward sign. That she was more
gentle, more tender, though perhaps less
demonstrative, was the only change that
half-hour's eavesdropping had wrought
in her Only she asked her husband no
|
minded or gloomy.
At such times she would steal beside
him, bathing his head with cologne, or
reading aloud some favorite poem, until
the gloom cleared and the lines upon
the handsome face relaxed.
1t was three years before the seed
bore fruit, and then she knew her bur-
den was lifted She had been very i'll.
Day and night Gerald had watched over
her, and with his love and care helped
to bring her back from Deaths longing
embrace, when, one evening, lying calm
and contented in his arms, he bent to
kiss her as he whispered
"Clare, | want to tell you story you
should never hear, were not my love to-
day more entirely yours than it has ever
been another's.h
And then he told her all the story