Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1882-03-31


gently. ''could you have followed treading
on roses; yet am powerless to save you
from lifelong Misery
"Ah, if he only knew him, Gordon!
tten your words would be kinder and
more appropriate"
"God grant you ara right ~ he answers
solemnly. and turns and leaves her with
out another word.
A perplexed look erseps into Leslie Is
eyes. She leans her head YEARLY against
the easement, ard wonders why people will
say such things. The summer roses brush
softly against her cheek, and the moon
light bathes her Ia shimmering, mystic
light that makes her seem half weird,
half real
Wallace Hobart, coming frem the dark
ness Of the trees into the open lawn, smiles
at the picture, and springs forward to her
side. The WEAKNESS dies out Of her face
when he gathers her into his arms, and
whispers low. impassioned words of love.
She is supremely, ecstatically happy, with
the happiness that comes to US but once in
a life time; but the man she loves cares
little for her. though he cares a great deal
for her money, and in his mind the one
balances the other.
Leslie's quiet gentleness pals on Hobart.
He is accustomed to an altogether differ
ent kind of woman. He can no more ap-
preciate the singleness and purity of her
| nature than she can trace the record of his
sin-lined face. He is a handsome man;
but he possesses subtitle fascination of
manner, sudden lighting into blilliancy
that outrivals mere perfection; and then
he is undeniably clever. and has will that
bends everything before it. He is a con-
noisseur in love-making, for it has been
one of the occupations of his life, and it ID
| little wonder that inexperienced Leslie
falls victim to such manifold attrac-
lions.
| With lips close pressed on hers, Hobart
bids Leslie name the wedding day. She
hides her shamefaced face upon his shout
der, and clings to him in silence. He
laughs, and lifting the crimson, tear
stained face with gentle hand, looks
straight into her eyes with subtle power
that holds her gaze against his will.
I Now don't be foolish,'' he commands
] 'but name the day.
"Wh hen you WILL" she answers, timidly
'for l cannot be your wife too soon.''
He leaves her on the stroke of twelve
and while she kneels and thanks God fol-
her lover, that same lover is playing for
heavy stakes with men of his own stamp
and he has not even one thought for the
girl who worships him so blindly.
The wedding day dawns at last, brigh,
and cloudless. The two are married with
all the pomp and ceremony that accompa'
ny grand weddings. There are the usua
number of bored groomsmen and firta-
tious bridesmaids, the ordinary number Of
duplicated and atrociously useless gifts. 81
well az the inevitable collation. of indigss.
tible sweets and unpalatable pyramids of
glittering sickness served by the self.
same obsequious walters one meets every.
where.
| The man stare curiously at the sweet
BRIDES face, and exchange glances OF
amaZement.
"Too good for him." says one.
"Glve him three weeks to forget her in, y
adds another, with worldly wisdom.
ITS her money" explains third
shortly.
Gordon Leigh overhears these remarks.
He shuts lis teeth hard together, and
turns on his heel. He cannot call men to
account for speaking the truth. He il
| glad when the day is over, for he finds it
almost beyond his strength. His whole
soul cries out against him when he lays
innocent Leslie's hand in that Of Wallace
Hobart. He closes the carriage door on
Leslies face with smile, though her
cheeks are wet with tears. and her good
byes end in sobs. He comforts his mother
and cheers the guests, and speaks kind
| word to Leslie's old nurse sitting weeping
In Leslis's room; but when the mother il
| asleep, and the guests have gone, and the
| old nurse has lost her troubles in dreams,
he shuts himself in his little room with
| the curious diamond-paned windows, and
rests his head on his folded arms, and
sits alone with his sorrow the whole night
through, for in all the world there is no
one to comfort him.
Leslie finds her honeymoon brief
glimpse of paradise. Then the serpent
creeps in. and the shadow that is to darken
LesIie's future falls across the happiness
of her present. She finds her dreams of
married life only dreams, and her idol only
clay.
Hobart soon wearies OF his wife's COM
panionship. and seeks excitement amidst
old haunts. The last nj hit of their we'd
ding tour Leslie watches for him till the
wee small hours grow small again, and
works herself into state of nervousness
that imaginessall possible evils. He returns
toward daylight with feverishlY brilliant
eyes and feet that feel their way. She
chokes back Der sobs, fearing they may
annoy him, and greets him with smile.
'I'm SICK" he mutters thickly; and she
in her innocence, believes him.
''Then will send for a doctor, dear, )"
she answers tenderly.
He stares at her in a stupid, puzzled
way; then, as the idea works into his
liquor-laden brain, he bursts into ft of
maudlin laughter.
She shrinks back with sudden thrill of
horror, while something, she can hardly
tell what, brings the truth straight home
to her, and then and there Leslie learns
her woman's lesson-that to put another
before ones self is to say good-by to ones
peace of mind forever.
ut will be different when we get home,"
thinks Leslie; but she finds herself mis-
taken. for Hobart goes from bad to worse;
and Leslie soon has. but one aim in life,
and that is, the hiding her husbands weak
ness from an all-seeipg world. Poor child