Arizona weekly enterprise., 1882-09-23

 There were but few lines there, writ ten one day upon their wedding tour, when he had been detained at St. Lag are on their arrival in Paris, looking for a massive trunk of hers, and had sent up this note to the hotel, explaining the delay. He remembered scribbling it in the saUe Gatte1.tc on a torn-out leaf of his memorandum-book. Whatwa there in this, then?
 He was turning the leaf in his hands in a puzzled way. when something pen cilled on the reverse side caught his eye. In one swift glance he took the whole matter in.
 For this pcnciIling was this-in three short, broken lines, with the end of each torn off, in severing the leaf from the memorandum book 4
 marry her. Simply
 cause she is rich"
 It was Maurice Worthington's own handwriting. He could not have de- nied it if he would. But he showed no inclination to deny it. For one instant, indeed, he kept his eyes bent on the pa- per, then he threw up his head, and con- fronted this wife of his with face in- deed as pale as her own, but with no shame in ii.
 ''So that is what you have been lay ing to heart against me ever since the beginning of our wedding journey?" he said, coldly. And you knew me so little as that-and yet you married me! Why, if your own hand had witnessed to something shameful against you, FL lice, do you think 1 would have believed it-and not rather have known, past doubting, that there must be some mis- take, some explanation, of the seeming accusation?"
 He drew out his nemorandum-book as he spoke, and turned over the leaves -...il hc found the nlace where the one had been torn out for his scribbled note to her. It had not been torn out close to the binding, but so that there was & narrow strip of paper left that had run down the page, and that had the ending of those three lines in Ellice's posses sion. It was their ending which Mau- rice Warrington was offering to her now.
 Read" he said, sternly and coldly.
 ''I will not read" she said, with a | choking sob in her voice. You can never forgive mel can never forgive myself But I will not read, to show you have trust in you-utter trust although it comes too late"
 And then. with a low, sudden cry, she stretched out her two hands to him.
 ''Too late! Oh, but you must for givei You cannot still condemn me to the misery of these long weeksr'
 "And what becomes of your mistake in thinking you could bear to belong to anyone?"
 If we are one, then belong just to my other self, '
 f.----A A-.<i--eaa- Ascape unpunished for the bitter pain you llsts aheen .;sSSssiSs IliS::
 Was not my pa'islmel3 enough, l Maurice?'
 ..No.n He drew her to the window, and made her sit down on it's broad. low, cushioned seat, taking his place beside her. "You must pay the penalty which l exact; you must read this and listen while I tell you all about it"
 He had laid the torn leaf in the book. so that it matched the lines. They ran now-Ellice reading them aloud, with quivering voice:
 ''You ask me why I'll not marry her. Simply because she is rich.''
 ''1 was writing of you to my sister, !" he explained. 1t is way l have of scribbling to her on the spur of the mo- ment, on anything that comes to hand. Her last letter had been rallying me on rumors she had heard of you and me. On the page opposite this had already told her that 1 loved you; on this 1 was recording my resolution not to marry you. But that same evening love over mastered pride, and I asked you to be my wife. l thought I had torn out all of the unfinished letter, but it stayed to punish me like all good broken resolu- tions."
 ''Mauricer'
 ''Ellicer'
 He was laughing down at her, and the girls face once more, despite its tears, had frightened like a very April sky.