Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1884-11-17

ued sadly. 81 take my due share of
the blame; but even ] would never
have dared do this if [ had not
thought-but no matter what
thought. We were married for fun,
of course, and now we do not find it
so much fun as we anticipated. |
have been speaking with your father.
He will not hear to divorce, nor is
there sufficient ground for one if we
desired it. But he agrees with me,
that you and / cannot live in this
mutual state of unhappiness. |
would give anything if | could undo
the past, but that is impossible. 1t
is necessary that one member of our
firm live abroad. | consider the ne
cessity very opportune, and shall have
all my arrangements completed by
next week to sail for Europe. This
is not so hard for me, for | am
man, but for you-God forgive me
for what"
'sYou mistake, Mr.. Carlson" in
terrupted his wife lcily. ''jt is the
easiest and most appropriate thing
that could be DONE
Arthur looked down at the figure
before him. The darkness and the
wavy masses of hair hid her face,
else he surely would have seen the
white lips and burning fearless eyes.
81 do not blame you, Margie,' he
said gently, but sadly. II only Won
der that you can bear me here at all.
| crave your forgiveness, and | pray
God that may not utterly blight
your happy life
Arthur waited moment as if to
hear one word of farewell, but the
figure before him never moved or
spoke. Then gazing intently at his
wife, to imprint upon his mind pic
ture that he never forgot, he turned
and left the room.
All night long Margaret sat in the
little, low chair where Arthur had
left her. Only once she stopped to
| pick up crushed flower, with which
he had been playing, and pressed it
passionately to her lips.
Two years now passed away, and
the following winter found Judge
Thurston and his daughter under the
gentle skies o. Florence. The Judge
was suffering in health, which, some
said, was due to Margaret's unlucky
marriage. However that was, the
two were very dear to each other and
were rarely seen apart.
Several days after their arrival in
Florence, Margaret met her landlady
in the hall, who with a tray in her
hand, was just coming out of the
room opposite. Stopping to inquire
if anyone was ill, the kind but gos-
sipy little landlady began to tell in
broken Italian, of the young foreign
er who had come to her a few weeks
before, and who, shortly after, had
been taken i'll with fever, and now he
was very i'll indeed. She said the
young man had no friends, and that
the good doctor often came away
looking very grave indeed. After
that day many dainty bouquet or
basket of luscious fruit found its way
to the sick man, while the landlady
often told the young gentleman of a
tall, sad faced lady who had sent the
gifts. One day, as the same lady
stepped out of her room prepared For
drive, she met the doctor returning
from a visit to his patient. The doc
tor advanced toward her hesitatingly.
ssYou are sn American, miss 2" he
said at last.
ssYes, sir"
Margaret answered so pleasantly
that the doctor continued with more
assurance, at the same time waving
with his hand to the room he had
just left:
''There is a young gentleman in
there, miss, who is not long for this
world. He is an American, also.
1t is very hard to die, so, miss-so
great distance from ones people,
and with no kind friends.
"You are right" Margaret an
swered, gravely. cit is indeed
hard. My father spoke yesterday of
going in to see the gentleman. He
is out just at present, but II may,
will go in now.''
After moments absence the doc
tor returned and conducted Marga-
ret into the room. The curtains were
closely drawn, and coming from the
light into the darkness she was blind
ed for moment. Not so with the
sick man. Looking up to greet his
visitor he uttered sharp cry and the
+ one word "Margie p
Margaret stood as if stunned, ant
+ then, advancing rapidly to the bed
! she kneeled down beside it and bur
; led her face IN the pillows. The poo
E doctor, with confused look. turneC
| and hastily left the room. There
' was a moments stiffness, broken only
t by Margaret's low sobbing. Th'
t form before her seemed to be the
: wreck of a once strong and beautiful
1 manhood. The sick man was Arthu
q Carlson. He raised his thin, wastet
S hand and tenderly stroked the brigh