The times and democrat. [volume] (Orangeburg, S.C.) 1881-current, 1886-08-05

I closed the door and removed her hat, moving
softly, and all tho while looking at the letters.
| This done, she knelt down and gathered to-
eether the precious missives, pressing them
often to her pale lips, and narrowly inspect.
ing the carpets for bits Of the dry forgetme-
| nots and other fragments Of flowers which
had fallen from the letters under Strangfelds
| angry handling Of them.
Scarcely had she replaced the papers In
her desk when she heard her fathers steps on
| the stairs He entered his bedroom, but
speedily emerged, being struck, perhaps, to
| find Jenny's door closed.
He turned the handle sharply and eI-
claimed:
@Ah, you ba hare, theua your watheg has
| acsd in .treadihb DOLLY. Where haSe you
beeni" =.
u have been to the schoolhouse to ssak my
husband,H she answered, returning bis storm
gaze with look 6f despairing res6lution.
aAnd you have not found him''
aNo father, mol" shs replied, with shriek
| In her voice.
"If he be your husband, why has be left
youl" he said, speaking as judge might In
| preface to condemnIng @ man to death.
She shook her head and locked her twitch-
ing fingers, no longer meeting his eyes, for
the bitterness In them was insupportable.
He approached the bed and leaned heavily
upon the frame Of 1t.
"Womani in my heart you are condemned
for treachery to me and your mother. Yet
| have said to myself, in the words OF the
Preacher, 'Be not hasty In thy spirit to be
angryr and now, if you find me so, you
shall rebuke me. Jenny, for what you have
this day told your mother, hate my own
flesh that you should be part of 1t. Yet l
will be merciful You shall prove to me that
YOU sin is not tho dishonor of your parents
name, nor the destruction Of your soul in the
eyes of Almighty God Do you heed met
You shall prove this"
| Sho made no answer.
"Speak!" he cried "Show me how this
may be DONE"
| She looked ut him with terrified eyes, for
no courage that she had could combat her
! instructive fear Of him He waited for her
reply: ,
"Tell me what am to do, father' indeed, I
will obey you I am truly his wife. God,
who hears me, knows that am not speaking
| falsely. With this ring he wcdded me,
| father"
And with trembling hand she sought in
her pocket for her purse.
"Nay, nay, havc no wish to see it. Such
matter signifies nothing. Better tricks
than such tokens cannot fool old eyes Tell
me where you were married"
"In London, father"
"Ay, in London. At what church,
II do not know the name; 1t has slipped
my memory. Or my husband never men,
toned it, she replied, with al expression on
her face that should have told her father to
press her no further.
"By whom were you married"
u did not see-I was frightened Tho
| church was * and did not lift my eyes,
and we were but a moment signing our
names"
| A look Of savage incredulity-the skepti'
cism of man stirred to the most hidden and
deadly forces OF his nature-shot into his
face He gazed at her for some moments In
silence, and then, in voice that, for the
hollowness of it. sounded Us though it rose
from under his feet, said:
ut is as before said-you remember moth
Inn. But their wedding is thing all women
remember; and it is strange you should so
soon forget yours, when your mother Will
tell you everything that befell on her wed.
ding day, twenty-three years ago: Would
YOU know tho church il you saw it"
ayes, father, IL think sol donot know,
father.
"To-morrow you and l will go to London,
said he "Make up a little box of things, for
this business may keep US In the morning,
at seveh, we start Be In readiness"