The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1884-03-02

closer, ana opened the envelope. For q
time the slender letters danced before his
eyes, and he could not make out a word,
but in while he mastered himself and be-
gan to read. What he read was incoher-
ent and agonized. 1t was written in haste,
| with blots and erasures, and there were
blisters upon the paper where the writer's
tears had fallen. She had known her own
unworthiness in keeping her secret all
along, she wrote, but she had never dared
to tell him what her past life had been.
And now he had discovered her duplcity
and wickedness, and she could not bear TO
face him She had gone away, and she
begged him to forget her But she loved
him, and she prayed Heaven to bless him
There was much more TO this effect, and,
while he read, the shadow of a horrible
| doubt fell closer and darker round his
| heart. What was there in the mere discov-
cry, taken by itself to excite such anguish
| as the letter displayedi What lay behind
| the discoveryl Was it likely that wife
| would run away from her husband and her
home ON a provocation 50 trivial as the dis
covery of itself affordedi Then all his
heart rose up to defend her, and he was torn
between doubt and trust and love and fear,
and the little mild passion that had dwelt
within him Ldilated to giant size on a sud-
den, and took his soul for a battle-ground,
and shook it with their conflict
There was no sleep for him that night,
and all next day he wandered vaguely,
trying to make up his mind to some course
of action. His wife had given him no adj
dress, but it did not seem to him at first
that it would be difficult to discover her in
London. But was her fight in itself con-
fession of worse than he knew, or could he
bear to hear that confession if it had TO be
made, or to hear her denial of it and to have
to doubt her stilli
Ii people always did the plain, common
sense thing, always spoke the plain truth,
and always looked circumstances in the
face, tie world would be improved out Of
knowledge Mrs. Tregarthen had taken
perhaps the most foolish of possible steps,
| had Disguised the truth, and now ran away
| from the circumstances she had herself Gre
ated; and yet you shall not despise her if
| / can help it. II was an innocent courage
| which had led her--more for her sisters
sake than her own-to the stage. II was
pardonable fear which had kept her silent
as to that episode in her life. 1t is one Of
the ways of women 10 look their best in
the eyes of the people they love, and this
leads them to reservations and pretenses.
A weakness characteristic of whole half
OF humanity must not be judged too So
yerely. When she ran away, she did so be-
cause tender conscience, hitherto void OF
great offense, exaggerated her little folly
into crime. She made up her innocent
| mind that she was one Of the wickedest wo-
men in the world. She had married her
husband under false pretenses.
When Tregarthen turned his back upon
her she read final remuneration in the act,
and was persuaded that she had lost him
forever. She had no blame for him then
or aftervard. and she recognized the justice
OF the imagined sentence, even at the mo-
nent when its weight first crushed her.
The perfect trust which love should have in
love is q flower Of slow growth indeed.
Often enough life is over before it has
reached 10 It's full bloom, though there is
this compensation for its laggard coming
that when once il blossoms il can know no
decay.
Mrs TreEarthen went 10 London, and
naturally enough sought the one place there
which she had known bsfore-a respectable,
If somewhat dingy, clearinghouse of the
Strand The stout landlady had not for
gotten har, and received her kindly. There
was a faint favor Of home in the stuffy
bedroom, and az least il was better to be
there than TO find nest altogether strange.
But the foolish fugitive had run away with
out any provision and had made no ar
rangement for those bodily needs which
continue their claim in spite Of sins or re-
repentances She had twenty pounds in
money, and her maid, being hidden to pack
for London, had naturally foreseen festiy-
ity, and had put up all the hapless lady's
jewelry. There was no fear Of immediate
starvation, therefore, but none the less that
terror doomed up from the future. She was
sure that she was forever parted from her
husband. and when the first agony Of that
certainty had settled down into dull pain,
she had TO think Of ways and means Tor hsr
sisters sails, and in Little wLi!e for Z "a
eon she lad not hitherto dreamed of for hel
own.
The maid who was for the first time in
London, was poorly impressed with town
life. as may be fancied. The stuify lodg-
ing-hOlse was not the sort Of place in which
Mrs. Tregarthen's position gave her right
to bestow herself, and the maid knew it.
Once or twice she had surprised her mis-
tres in tears, and she had found out very
early in the history Of the exposition that
| there were no ideas of festivity in Mrs.
| Tregarthen's mind She began 70 put two
and two together, and after a week she
| spoke
| 81 beg your pardon ma'am, but it is my
wish 10 leave"
| How is that, Mary" inquired the mis-
tress, with sinking heart. The heart had
sunk low enough already, in all conscience
but II fell lower yet when the maid spoke
Of leaving. Tregarthen had himself en-
gagged the woman TO serve his wife, and
the exile was ready TO cling 70 anything
that bound her, however slightly, 10 heI
home and him.
"Well, ma'am," returned the maid "sinc'
you ask me, / don't understand things, ans
I'd rather 60"
There would be one mouth the less TO fill
but that was little. The maid received he
wages and went away, though she kept al
eye on Mrs Tregarthen, having fancies o
her own concerning the reasons for this GU
rious cscapade The expected gallant ncve
appeared, however, and when Mrs. Tregar
, then went abroad she took the child will
I her, and, after purposeless walk, returne'
J without having spoken 10 single creature
In these circumstances the maids interes
In her late mistress declined and she fount