The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1882-12-06

heePeT, as ne WOulu nave uone WltT
a baby, for care and comfort, and re-
tired again to his study.
Between his eyes and the pages ol
his books came ever the face of the
orphan girl. He found himself set,
ting idly before his papers listening
for the sound of a musical voice in
the passage or garden. He neglected
his studies, to count the hours be,
tween meals, when he met his ward
at the table. Never before had q
young woman's face or voice waken.
ed even passing emotion in Edward
Lancaster's heart, and interest once
aroused, love crept in and took root,
Sdesarslsaag, Lifelong, !Thsrs wes
no possibility of driving away this
love once it was admitted. Edward
Lancaster knew that Edith must be
won, even if he was never to know
happiness in life again. If he lost
her, he would live, bury himself in
his books once more, but never again
could the same peace he had known
be found.
When he told the child (she was
4
but 17) he loved her, she nestled in
his arms, lifted her sweet face to his
and promised to be his wife. He
never doubted her love, strange as it
seemed, and they we're married with
in six months of Edith's arrival al
her new home.
Once she was his own, Edward
Lancaster mada his wife perfect ia.
vorite of fortune. He left his dearly
beloved library to escort her to gay
watering places in summer, to New
York in winter. He never counted
the cost ofany indulgence she craved.
Her dress was of the costliest descrip-
ton; her jewels were the envy of her
circle Of friends and she had but to
name u wish to have it gratlfed.-
She was of the sunniest temperament,
child like in her gratitude, and fit
ting from pleasure to pleasure as a
bird flies from fruit to flowers.
Life had been very sweet to Ed
ward Lancaster in three years fol.
lowing his marriage, though many
wondered, seeing the grave, elderly
man, how he came to marry hischilu,
wife.
But as he paced his room in the
Whi'eclitle Hotel, Edward Lancaster
questioned his happiness as he had
never questioned it before. The let
ter he held fast in his clenched hand,
the conversation upon the porch,
combined TO probe his heart to its
core, and the question hidden there
rose to the surface.
Did Edith love him?
She had always been gay, tender,
atfectionate, deferring to his wishes,
more like a child with an indulgent
father than wife; for, as yet, but
little of wifely duty had been exacted
of her. Of household cares she had
none, Her life had been passed in
perpetual pleasure seeking, with no
calls for sacrifice.
But the letter, the fateful letter,
told the tender husband that the
wealth he had held so careles>ly for
years was gone in one great CONNER
cial crash; one hour a man Of riches;
the next pauper. 1t was all gone,
his lawyer wrote, and the sale of
Elmgrove, his home, would scarcely
cover the Liabilities incurred in the
past three years.
Had she married him for money?
The thorn, once planted, stung him
sorely. He was not u vain man, but
he had thought his love so devoted,
so true, had won a return. Money
had been to him all his life so small
a consideration, never feeling its
want, that he had never taken it in.
to consideration, except to be glad
that it was to give Edith every in.
diligence. And now, the hateful
thought rose and pressed him sorely
that Edith had married him for what
he had lost and could give TO ner nc
longer.
A rattling at the door.handle, q
voice calling his name reused hin,
from his moody mystery and he drew
, back the bolt to admit Edith.
, "Just time to dress for dinnerl" she
cried. coming in. 81 staid dowr
, | s,oi 20 III tbn lo,t ,,,;,ntn SLolI