The Penn's Grove record., 1885-09-05
PECT
MARIAN ELLIoT's TORY.

MARIAN ELLIoT's STORY.
Murderl |, Marian Elliot, am nov
lying in prison. awaiting my trial fol
murder. Having read this, do not turn
with loathing and disgust from my mar
ratiye. Call it q confession-what you
will swear to you it is the truth.
Will keep back nothing, but will lay
bare my whole soul; then judge me a!
you hope to be judged.
When l was sixteen, much to my
surprise, and | dare say to my aunt'i
also. a Mr.. Elliott asked me to become
his wife. He was a banker, and repu'
ted to be very rich. My aunt consid
cred that in marrying him l should
make a brilliant match; and she did no
fail to point out to me that, if did mo-
marry, | must try to eaIn my OWN l1Y'
ing. / preferred to marry.
OF my married life | will only record
one scene. 1t took place on the even
ing my husband was found dead with a
knife in his throat.
l wish l could bring myself to say
something kind of him; but / cannot
He was a bad man, or whom | can re
collect no single instance of generosity
or good feeling. FROM the very day
almost of our marriage we quarreleo
fiercely. A fruitful subject of dispute
between us was my refusal to lay my
self out to attract the friends he fire.
quently brought to the house. One, 9
cousin Of MS, / particularly disliked.
and made no secret of my dislike.
One evening we W re dining alone.
His cousin had been invited. but failed
to come. MY husband sat down sullenly
to dinner. He did not say a word til
the servant had left the room.
81 won't stand this any longerr' he
burst out. II have been too kind tt
you; but | mean to make you know
am master now. Why didn't Tom
come this EVENING""
81 don't know"
"You dol 1t is because you treat hin
with such Internal i%nsOlencel One MAJ
withdrew his account from my banl
this morning because of you, and l sup
pose Tom will be doing the same next. ;
s'That is nothing to me. The fac
of a mans having an account at YOU
bank will not excuse an impertinence
to me, nor will 1t prevent me from pun
ishing the o~ffendor.'
''That means you will strike TomfH
Eyes, if he provokes me-"
He leaned back and took up a whip
that was lying on the table behind
him.
sis this the weapon you use to chas'
tise my friendsp" he asked.
"When they are insolent to me-"
SIT will come very handy for me tt
chastise those who are insolent to me
then; and you, my fne lady, shall have
the first taste of ltl"
In another second he had brought
the lash smartly down across my shoul'
ders. AS he raised his arm to repeat
the blow, / stepped back and seized Q
knife which lay on the table.
"By Heaven" L exclaimed. 'sif you
strike me again, l will murder you'll"
you Hendl" he Missed.
s'Y es, l am a fiend,"I returned.
"You have made mt one; and now you
have found, as man a man has before,
that it is impossible to lay a fend when
once raised.n
81 will lay you Yeti" he shouted an.
grily.
''NeverI" 1 cried.
"Put that knife downi'
"If you go to the other end Of the
room first"
He retreated slowly. He thought
probably that l intended to stay in the
room; but, as soon as he was at q safe
distance from me, l flung down the
knife and went out.
This is the truth of what actually
took place between my husband and
myself on that evening. 1 never saw
him alive again. What happened af.
ter l left the room l cannot say. /
have been told that some hours after
wards a servant, going in found my
husband lying dead on the ground; and
q knife very similar to the one | had
threatened him with had caused his
death.
On leaving him I went at once to my
own room and locked the door. / can
only remember of being conscious of
one feeling, and that was desire to
quit The house and never enter it again.
Making a bundle or a few necessities.
l changed my evening dress and put on
a dark tweed. With a thick shawl and
veil l hoped 80 to conceal my face and
figure so as to escape notice. l listen
ed for a moment at my door, half afraid
that my husband might be there; but 1
heard no sound; and then L went out
silently. 1t was almost dark.
l had made up my mind to walk TO
the nearest town, a distance of eight
miles, pass the night at an inn, and go
on from there the next morning to Lon
don. All went at first as l had inten-
ded. l reached Hunford safely, and
made arrangements for the evening.
The first train for town, 1 was told, left
at 8 a. m. That, L decided, would
suit me.
did not sleep for a long while that
night, for / was too excited; but to-
wards the morning l fell into.a sound
sleep. When 1 awoke, it was eight
O'Clock; so that l had just time to dress
myself and breakfast comfortably be-
fore starting. had finished dressing
when | heard a knock at my door.
1t was my landlady, She looked at
me a little curiously as she entered.
"What do you want?" l asked.
"You did not give any name when
you came, and a gentleman arrived a
little while ago, making inquiries about
a lady who we thought might be you"
SIT is not at all ~likely,"I replied.
''The gentleman must be expecting to
meet some other lady"
s'Then your name Is not Mrs. Ell
she said interrogatively.
l started, in spite of myself. Was it
possible that my husband had found out
my flight already, and was going to
stop me? But l was determined not tv
to being his wife.
"My name is not Elliott.' l answer
speaking coolly enough. ST am Mrs.
Newton.
"Wlll you see the gentlemsn2"
Certainly not"