The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1886-10-02
The Deserted Wife
BY EILEEN VI. HOLAHAN.

cdTlu! again remarked Aflnuf clark,
in languid, weary voice. 1.-THE wo-
men are mostly all senseless flirts, and
the men-a crowd of snobs. some
times wonder why l stay, and"
wonder no more thenr' laughs Jack
Gartsherrie, lazily lighting a fresh Hav-
ana. "The reason is self-evident. If
Mrs. Wallack were to flee from the
scenes of her present conquests, you
would quickly bid us adieu, my friend. 8"
The slight, tall gentleman, with weary
dark eyes, and slight stoop of the
shoulders, who makes the third of the
party smoking on the balcony of the
Saratoga House, looks up with some
show of interest on his pale, careworn
face.
"Who is Mrs. Wallack?" he asks
quietly. 81 was not aware that 1 had
namesake here"
The weariness of his voice is quiet in
keeping with the weary, stern melan-
choly of his face and eyes; but close
observer might detect latent tone of
anxiety in the question; but neither of
his companions are close observers; and
Arthur Clark fushes Slightly, while Jack
Gartsherrie laughs lightly, and answers
in his happy-go-lucky fashion:
"WhO is Mrs. Wallack? Well, my
dear fellow, can only tell you that she
divinity-a queen-the only woman
in Saratoga worth Clark's notice, and
the proudest she is in Christendom"
Not to know her argues yourself un-
known. But be warned in time, my
friend. Do not burn your fingers, and
scar your heart at her shrine. She is
beyond your mortal reachr'
'Indeed?' exclaims Philip Wallack,
with slight scornful elevation of his
dark, melancholy eyes. 81 will not
presume, in my deep humility, to wor-
ship your divinity. But where, may
ask, is the husband, that he allows all
you masculine loungers to make this
parade riot over his wife?'
"a myth, for all we have ever seen of
him." laughs Gartshelrie, softly.
"Rumor says somewhere in the South;'
but there are few unkind enough to
insinuate that he never had mortal ex
istence; but of course the insinuation
originated with woman, and is a case
of woman's ingratitude to woman"
"Ah! And is she aware of such
rumorS?' somewhat mockingly, though
his voice is soft and low as ever
IF she is answers Arthur Clark,
suddenly awakening from his reverie,
''she is altogether too high, too noble,
and pure minded to stoop and resent the
slurs of foul, envious minds. Asif any
thing evil could touch and contaminate
a woman with face like that. Look,
Wallack, She is just coming up from the
shore, And'-in a disgusted, angry
voice, as he rises himsef-''just see
those snobs flock around her."
Philip Wallack turns his eyes slowly.
half scornfully, until they rest on the
group just sweeping up the gravel walk
then he steps back, suppressing cry OF
mingled pain, pleasure and surprise.
''For first glance you take it hard,
old fellow" laughs GartsheIrie, touch
ing his arm. ''Eyen Clark did better
than that. Isn't she divine? Come be
presented"
And, like one in a may dream, PhiliI
Wallack, the woman-hater, the siren,
invincible man of the world, is led up
like child, and is presented to the sub
ject OF their late conversational woman
with tall, perfect figure OF gracious
beauty, and face of strange, wonder
GUS power and marvellous lepose.
Her beautiful gray eyes sweep PhiliT
Wallack in careless gaze; then ther,
is laughter uplifting of the fail
head and quiver of the perfect lips
then calmly she acknowledges the in
PRODUCTION with some commonplace re
mark which, coming from her, does NO
seem commonplace.
She passes on in her calm, royal wa,
up the steps and into the corridor, Will,
Philip Wallack still stands dumbly
strangely silent, his heart crying out al
the agony and anguish he had thought
forever crushed; the bitter atonemen
this same woman, with the proud, cain
face of goddess, brought to his life
Come to the club with me, old fel
low," from Gartsherrie, "and have q
brandy and soda. A fellow can't dc
anything here but nope"
Wallack declines the invitation in q
calm, cold words, excuses himself ant
goes straight to his own room, where nc
curious, prying eyes may see the ode
change in his face as he walks to the
window and holds slipof crumpled
yellow paper to the light.
"You are my husband and you wor
me by foul MEANS" he reads with burn
ing eyes. God may forgive you but
meyer can, so l leave you forever. !
love your brother Cyril, and you know
it, know also that | shall love him tC
the end of my life, which l trust may
not be far distant. Hating-I came tc
you unconscious of your sin, hating still
| 20 from you. LEIGH"
Many times he reads the letter. crue
as the grave, to the bitter end, until all
is blur of mist before his weary eyes.
Great heavenr' he gasps hoarsley
while great sobs struggle for mastesy a.
he sinks on his knees and leans his head
on the sill, "did my sin deserve that's
because loved her, l had won her
that was ALI And my sin was that
knowing that report of Cyrirs marriage
to be false, had still held my peace,