News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1884-01-31
AN ERRING WIFE'S DESPAIR.
Unable to Regain Her Place in Her Hus
bands Heart She Kills Herself.


Mr.. Johnson of I3dianapolis, Ind, re-
-Iated to u reI,o2-cr--te particulars Of iiIe
final interview he haG with his wife on
the night she committed suicide.
81 reminded her. he said, "of her
often-repeated entreaties to see me, and
assured her I would receive any sugges-
ton she could make. She said that in
the whole matter she had but one condi-
ton to offer, that she should come back
absolutely to my heart and arms. She
reminded me of what she had said in
several Of her last letters, that she could
consent to no prospect in life without
me and that she could not agree to ad-
iustment with that condition left out. I
was profoundly affected, and yet it was
impossible for me to surrender absolutely
all my own feelings. She had just been
for three months the mistress of another
man, She was fresh from his embraces.
Her lips were still hot with his kisses.
The sacred bosom where my babes were
nursed was yet quivering from his
touch. He had invaded her heart and
his influence still dominated every part
of her being. So rapt was she with the
memory of his embraces that even to the
last she was wholly unable to under
stand how she had wrOnged either me or
her son. Her entire soul was permeated
and infected as with deadly malady.
told her that there must first be period
of penitence and publication. Her
paramour, with his unholy influence,
must be thoroughly purged from her
heart. Until then | could not perceive
any place in her affections fit for me to
occupy.
'T told her that she required treat
ment for her mental and also for her
spiritual condition. I suggested that
she retire for time to a private retreat
for mental and nervous disorders, but
most earnestly of all I urged her to turn
to religion as her surest refuge. I
begged her to go down upon her knees
and give her soul to God, who alone can
cleanse and purify the soul. I could not
receive her back to my arms, but [ as
sured her that the future was not with
out hope for us ALL and that penitence
and rectitude might fully atone for her
fault 1 told her that we must at once
and forever leave indianapolis; that we
could have it announced in the papers
that the homestead had been sold and
that we had gone South for permanent
residence; that she might go to her rela.
tives or fix l.cr abode wherever she
chose; that she might take anything or
everything she wished of the household
effects; that / wonld not divorce her,
but that she might still remain my wife.
and that wherever she went would sup
ply ample means for her support. My
pension, which is now SIT per month.
but which will soon be increased to $24
per month, told her should, at my
death, be hers for life, or so long as she
remained my widow. She only answered
that without me and my love, as she had
possessed it of old, all the rest was
nothing. Oh, how far was from CON-
pretending the terrible depths of her
meaning. Could I have even suspected
the purpose, so tragic and fearful, which
perhaps even then possessed her mind.
what would 1 not have done to remove
it2 Anything anythingl Oh, God,
how gladly would I have sacrificed my
self for her. She seemed calm, though
deeply distressed, and never for a mo-
ment did doubt that [ should met her
again until the message came that she
was dead. Her father, DIR. Griffith, who
is mentally and physically prostrated by
the great trouble that has overtaken
him, spends his time in calling upon his
daughter to come to him and hemoaning
her absence,