Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1885-04-03
THE CONQUEROR.

such a welding. No brides
maids, no music, no breakfast or
reception; | declare, should not
feel as if | had been married" eX.
claimed Marion Willoughby, throw
ing herself down upon the low fau'
teuil in her own elegantly appoint
ed drawing.room, and drawing off
the delicately tinted gloves, which
served as a finish to the exquisite
Partisan toilet.
There was only one other Occu'
pant Of the room, a man, tall and
handsome, standing with one hand
resting on the back of her chair
She did not glance up as she spoke,
or note that Chester ThOrlcy'S face
had lost Its color.
'You are speaking of Miss Mar
vines wedding, he said. There is
one essential to most marriages you
have not enumerated in your list Of
things lacking. Was love wanting 2
'Oh, no. | believe she loves him.
She certainly must do so to an al
most absurd extent. They are to
go to housekeeping in small fiat
in an questionable locality up
town, where he mast be away from
early morning until quite 6 o'clock.
He occupies some salaried position
clerk in a bank, | belieye-and
she might have married anybody"
Honest labor degrades no man,
Marion,' came the firm, quick an
swer. Even a clerkShip is not al
ways found, and would rather
break stones IN the street than live
on money acquired dishonesty or
dolcd out Of charity, though in such
a case | would ask no woman to
share my lot
This looks like breaking stones,
does it notr she laughingly an
swered, letting her own jeweled
fingers close over the mans hand
where it rested-a hand whose
shape betokened its aristOcracy,
and which was soft and white as a
woman's.
At her light touch his strong arm
quivered. lie bent and let his lips
rest an instant careSsingly on her
hair, for the girl beside him was his
aflianced wife.
& could break stones though,
dear; and don't know but it would
make me a better man. Suppose |
lost my money, Marion? Suppose
it were all swept away from me il
an hour, and | had a position offer
cd me-a position which would ena
bic me to live humbly, very mucl
as your friend is going to live-tel
me what you woald do 2
'You are only talking to try me
Chester, and l hate such questions
In the first place it is entirely on
of reason; for, even were it so, pa
pa, you know, is very rich, and on
home could always be with him
Il have said to you, that | woul'
rather starve than eat the bre ad O
charity. Therefore, putting thi
possibility aside, tell me what yor
would do
Her fingers released their grasl
upon his hand. Was there signiii
cance in the action! He smile'
bitterly as he saw it. His face wa
very pale now. Except that h,
stood still behind the chair, sh
must have noticed it.
you are utterly absurd this al
ternOon, Chester she said petu
lantly. 'I1ave not just told 30
that Edith Marvine's wedding wa
more like funeral than a wedding
And though l presume | shall on
day have to attend my own funera
will not, assure you, be a voluT
tary agent. Have you nothing NOR
agreeable that you eau find to sa
to met
The man shook off a certai
something which seemed to enve
Op him in an almost invisible clOu'
and he answered with the old cOur
eous grace which suited him
we'll, and made his power with W
man almost a prOyerb.
Money always seemed to belOn
to him by an inherent right. ltw'
so natural that he should be ric
| No one could have imagined Che
ter Thorley poor. He knew so we
how to expend his wealth. Il
gave it so generously, yet withol
OstentatiOG, that no man envle
him.
Yet he knew half an hour late
when he left his farewell kiss G
Marion Willoughby's lips, that
| was a farewell to all hopes and hal
! piness.
J. The blow had already fallen. 1