Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1882-05-11

wish to God werel"
The utter misery of his tone brought
her own desolate anguish more fully be-
fore her. With q low cry she buried
her face in her hands. The letter she
held fell from them. Still she heard
her husband speaking rs though from
afar off.
Courage, Sidney" he said. "You
will only need patience, dear. Look at
mel 1t is not hard to see that l am u
doomed man. / have never recovered
from the wound received in the atfray
in which they reported me to have been
killed. Dissipation helped the work
along though since that night, Sidney,
no drop of liquor has touched my lips.
When man stands so close to death
that he recognizes his 10y breath, he
sees things with a new clearness. Dur
ing my long and desperate illness, l
thought of you with longing you can
never dream of, but / dared no send for
you. I felt that all my right was for
feited. Nor will 1 trouble you now.
When am dead you shall learn of your
freedom. Until that time you will hear
of or from me never again.
He stopped as he finished. She
knew that he lifted up the material of
her dress and pressed 1t a moment to his
lips.
Slowly and falteringly he again cross
ed the room. His hand was on the knob
of the door, when she broke the spell that
bound her, and rose up to her feet.
Stay. Haroldl'' she said. Your
place is here. 1t was you who deserted
me. You shall not say that l deserted
you"
BE staggered against the wall.
"Oh, my God" he cried; els this an
angel or woman who thus speaks to
meP"
'sIt is no angel" she answered "only
q woman, striving to do her duty 80
plA1DlG maTkeu DelOTe ucI.
But the strength which had upheld
him in his hopelessness now failed him.
With a great cry he cast himself down
at her feet, striving in vain to catch the
sobs which so cruelty rent him.
Very gently she soothed him. She
had no time to realize her own misery,
until, at last, she left him, quiet, and
sleeping, in room beneath her feet.
How the night had passed she never
knew. With locked hands clasped be-
fore her she sat watching the dawn break
conscious neither of heat nor cold, of day
nor darkness, until at 8 o'clock, her
maid brought q cup of coffee to her
door. The servants had been apprised
of the masters return the night before.
She took the coffee now and drank ii. "
"When Mr.. Winston comes" she
said, 'admit him yourself, Maria. and
bring him imediateIy here to me-"
An hour later her door opened.
mot dressed, my uarnngl" cried
happy voice. "Sldney, in Gods name
what has happened?"
With marvellous strength and calm
she told him all. He listened silently
until she had quite finished, and then,
with one bound, he had gathered her to
his arms.
"What is this man to you, that he
should take you from me? You are
mine-mine! never will forego nay
cIaim!"
At the old tender uasterfulness of his
tones, her womanhood reasserted itself,
She bowed her head upon his breast
and burst into passion of sobs.
"My love-my own!" he whispered
This is but chimera of the darkness.
Our wedding day has dawned-You are
m1nel Oh, my darling come to mel
But now she lifted up her face.
HE is my husband, George" she
said. ''My duty lies with him. Now
leave me I can bear no more. You, who
have always said you loved best in me
my womanhood, my purity-you would
not tempt me to sin? No, dear. Leave
me and forget me You are young
you have but to look for happiness and
find it."
No, Sidney. I can not resist your
words; you bid me 60, and 1 obey you.
But first love, L exact promise, when you
are free, send Inc ord. will leave an
address where letter will always reach
me. / must put the ocean between us
I could not stay here and prove obe-
dient else; but, my own, I never will
renounce my claim--and be 1t one year
or ten, or twenty, one line will bring
me to your side, to leave it never
again"
Then, with thousand mad kisses, he
sealed the promise he had exacted, and
went out from her, believing earth held
no such wretched man as he.
Five years had passed-tive years to
Sydney Reed of faithful. devoted duty
five years during Which her love and
care alone fostered the feeble sp rk of
life In Harold Reeds remorseful heart,
and then he laid the heavy burden
down, and. with his last words murm
urs of grateful love and blessing, the
tired eyes closed, shutting out forever
more the vision which all these years