The Iowa plain dealer. [volume] (New Oregon, Howard County, Iowa) 1867-1895, 1884-11-13
4 DYING CONFESSION.
BY LILY y. CURRY.

BY LILY y. CURRY.
There was no color In the outer world
that dny~no vivid color. The leaves,
which fingered still upon the trees,
were languid and sailron-hued from the
lasting drought. The sky was clouded
over Npd the atmosphere chilled with
the whisper OF approaching rain.
l had been thinking hard about my
trouble. Long before dawn / had
wakened from horrible dreams OF Mig
non--drcams that she was falses long
before dawn had tossed from side to
side upon my bed, and felt my eye-
balls burning and my heart beating
matly. had tried then, desperately,
to compose myself, to master my emo.
tions; but could not, for always as !
closed my eyes, she came before me,
brilliant and beautiful, tnunting and
terrible. She came and crazed me with
her superb glance, her scornful lips.
As ! lay waiting for. the dawn, re.
viewed the past. My thoughts travelled
swiftly back to the day of our mar.
riage, half o year before. Since
then what wretched fears, what help
less terror had come to be my portion
In making her my wife, / had hoped tc
make her heart mine own forever; and
now it seemed to me that she could
laugh to look upon my dead face.
When daylight came at last, arose
and saw myself within the mirrors
ghastly, haggard, desperate creature.
And suddenly I felt that she had
wrecked my body aud my soul. I said
to myself that this should last nc
longer; that would know the worst
and abide by the knowledge.
She would return that day; she had
been two nights absent, on a visit te
friends of hers whom yet / had no,
seem, up in the country. At least this
was the story she had told me. l had
not sought for proof or disproof Of hel
words. had not dared to seek for it
She would not arrive until evening
and the day yawned before me like ,
terrible chasm. I wanted neither foot
nor drink, but wandered aimlessly
about our apartments-our home
which might have been a littl.
paradise, far above the ebb and flow O
the stormy town. Our home, which
had cared to make so dainty she nigh
love me for the task. Alas!
There was no color in the outel
world, but ever in the space where
walked singly to and fro, the flames O
purgatory danced before my sight.
could not choose but doubt her
now that had found that letter among
her private papers-fonnd it in M,
frenzied search the night before. 4
letter from former lover.
read it many times that morning; i
was brief, yet full of meaning.
Il love you; l am wretched whel
away from You. I Icannot rest until ".
meet again"
That was how it read.
II had no date.
I fel5 no compunctions at having
searched her desk. Why had she beer
false to me? Had not been faithfu
and kind and loving? Had / not cher
ished her according to my VOW?
1t was now long time since l hat
first noticed certain peculiar little nc
tions of hers-impatient tossings of ths
head, restive sighs, and curves of th,
lip, which seemed to say, @you wear,
me with your assiduousness, your jeal
GUS care. / love you no longer"
And then her latest actual complaint
why do you torment mo SO? Has,
I no Individuality For PHYS sake, b
rationale"
Rational! With that petulant vote,
ringing in my ears!
I continued to wander about on
rooms. At times her face came befor,
me-the face most dear to artists eye
beautifully shapen, faultless in color
ing, having tho classic features o
Greece and the marvellous eyes O
Italy-eyes made fit to dizzy al mel
who should behold them. And al
around that face were rings of sof
brown hair that reddened in the sun
light.
As the day dragged wearily along,
thought Of various methods by whicl
to assure myself of what ! must know
or die. And 30 at length I frame.
my resolution.
! would not go to meet her at tn
station, but. instead, remain at home
concealed, that she might believe m,
gone. ! would place note upon TIN
center table, underneath the chande
lier, in the little parlor. This not.
would promise my return the followin,
day. Her actions up on finding thi
would tell the story
Where to conceal myself
Somewhere in the little parlor. wher,
she would enter and discover my note
/ made slow circuit of the room
inspecting carefully each separate arti
Gle OF furniture, and considering what
il any, shelter il might afford.
started from the door leading int,
our bed-chamber, and passed leftwar.
from the same.
First came Mignon's writing desk,
pretty little ebony affair, in which sh'
treasured many things, as well knew
Some old photographs We're there
some faded flowers, some scraps 0
poetry clipped from magazines, SOM
--letters / had not replaced the not
l had found. 1t still burned over IN,
heart, burned as it were q living coal
looked for some time at the desk
| saw things with wondrous distincness
There was dust minute particles o
dust upon the ledeta rubbed it ol
with my bare finger.
Next was the window. / pushe.
aside the Turcoman curtain and locke.
down upon the street. How dull an,
cold the whole world seemed HOY
empty! Before the window stood th
little chair she often sat in; just u littl