The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1888-10-03

! went 10 the HreSluCnl Oh Inc DHDK, lOlQ Dlll
the story and paid every dollar Of 1t back. I
decided to lose you, and resolved to go to
South America, find him and send him back
| to you.
Twas ready to sail when the Captain of one
of the ships brought a letter from him to me.
| Not word OF reproach did he utter, only in-
formed Inc that he was dying Of fever, and
begged me never to make known his sad fate I;
never tell his story. The Captain informed
me that he died in an hour after he had given
him the letter. He said that he had gone
over in his ship and had told him his story.
After they landed he went to small mining
town and died. Before he died he sent for
him, gave him the letter. and he heard died q
short while after he left.
| l have never known one happy hour since.
l roamed over the world but my burden grew
heavier each day; my heart was crushed
with sorrow, not only for his unhappy fate,
but at the sight of your grief. I have ruined
your life but Lois do not say you hate me !;
kiss me and forgive me, as the God of infinite
mercy has forgiven me. Say you love me; /
will not be with you long"
He sank exhausted on the pillow and closed
his eyes For several moments she sat with
her face buried in her hands. The spell brok-
en- she leaned over him, kissed his pale lips
| and mur1nured,
Claude, forgive you ,yonr love for me
made you sin sinned when broke my dy-
| Ing fathers request"
| She held his hand while he sank into a
room and fell; on her knees, and begged Heav-
en- TO forgive the man, whose love for her had
worked his ruin. She knew his days were
few she would watch over him with tender
be forgiven: One fair, calm eve in May he
breathed his last In his wife's arms. AS tears
flowed down her cheeks she whispered,
"Thank God l have done my duty"
| AS proof of his love, he left her all of his
vast wealth; only twenly-nine years OF age,
no one in the world but herself, yet she was
more miserable than the poorest slave Of the
| land She cOull not f0rpaf fha 10 nf har 1Oct
| love, but at the same time mourned for the
man who had planned and worked his ruin.
The last spark of resentment died from her
breast as she listened to the dull, heavy thud
of the sod as 1t fell upon his coffin. The grave
buried her enmity.
| One year stole away, yet she had not cast
from her the vail Of melancholy. She was by
nature pensive and sad, and time could not
etface her heart-aches. Rarely did she ever
leave her home, except when she drove to the
Village church or went on some charitable
DR.. and Mrs. Gray were slumbering beneath
burden OF life.
One eve as she sat in her room recalling the
| dead images of the past" a peculiar sensa-
| tion passed over her; she gave q long sigh and
said as she glanced at the clock,
| feel strange tonight tits said coming events
cast their Shadows Before; I wonder what
pain tn ere is for me yet to bear; surely have
already drained the dregs OF the cup Of sor-
| row."
At that moment the door opened and SER
want announced that gentleman wished to
see Mrs. Durant. She walked tc the mirror,
! glanced at herself and said,
"More business. how tired am OF thatm
AS she walked into the parlor, a gentleman
came forward to meet her. AS she glanced at
his face her heart stood still, q faintness came
| over her.
Lois you have not forgotten mew
"Harold Imposslblew she cried and would
have fallen at his feet had he not caught her
In his arms. When she opened her eyes he
was still clasping her In bis warm embrace.
"Lols. you do not know me? 1t is Harold, l
have come back to you"
10 Harold, they told me you were dead
died ed seventeen s years ago. she gasped:
| "They were mistaken. have come to claim
folded her to his heart
He not only ruined my life, but deceived
Hush, Harold! You are deceived in him /;
he told me all. He would have given his life
to have undone all. His only sin was his
Is gone. Tell me oil Harold; am 1 dream
ing?" she asked as she pressed her cold lips to
mo Lois, you are not dreaming. 1t is real.
wrote your husband that would be dead in
less than an hour. 1t was wonderful that
recovered For days they thought every
breath would be the last, but death would not
worked hard, a heart broken man; thoughts
| OF you almost drove me mad. Would come
back TO you; come back In my dishonor and
ofer you, so pure. my sullied name? At last
decided to return; fortune favored me; I
had grown to be rich man. I came under
an assumed name; no one recognized me. !
told pr. Gray my story; he told me OF your
marriage to Col. Durant and all the circum.
stances, and advised me not to see you, but to
return Immediately, which did.
He promised me never to tell you that I
was living; and, 1 see, kept his word l will
/ v,n1 bal lxNfxa
sufferings, 'twould be but folly now. won
der how lived through 1t, twas the knowl-
edge that you still loved me-though anoth.
er's wife, that preserved my life. l returned
seemed to turn to gold; the gods were propi.
tious; fate favored me. Eight years passed
away; returned to California, paid the sum
I had in an evil moment defaulted, and gave
the money, III fated money Col. Durant had
paid, to found a Charitable institution. 'Tis
strange that 1t never occurred to me that his
generosity was the siren by which he ruined
my life. I was young and unacquainted with
the wiles Of men. ! betook myself to travel
I went DER land and sea in the hope OF forget
ting you, bu. could not. Your image ever
rested before my eyes, and haunted me in my
dreams.
| Wearied with my travels and maddened
with the desire to see you once more, I came
here under the name of Lamont could not
tell you my secret, as | knew, your burden
weight. Once thought You recognized me
when sang that song. but was mistaken.
! / left You In your ignorance and went on my
way. While in Toronto, Canada, two weeks
ago, noticed IN account of Col. Durants
death in South Carolina paper. Lois, I
have come back to you. / love you with a
perfect love, deep and mature. I slnned
once: II was thoughtlessness and impulse
that prompted me. II was my first and great
est error, but thank heaven ! have lived to
rectify it. Will you marry me in IL short time
lovc:'
/ She gave him one soft look out of her violet
! eyes; look that recalled wildly to him the
night seventeen years before when she be-
came his promised bride-and whispered gen.
; tly Yes
Lois, we have waited seventeen years; life
, is short. will you marry me one week from to-
night will you make me happy lover
! "Ics, Harold" was all she answered.
! The hours passed on, still he lingercd he
was 10th 10 leave her; it seemed as n dream,
all illusion. He looked every moment for her
| tn vanish from his embrace. In q few days
the country was alive with talk OF the coming
marriage OF Mrs. Dnrant and Harold Percy.
! When the old pastor, who had baptized
| them when they were children, pronounced
them man and wife in the little village
church, he did not know the story of their
/ life: in short, very few knew 1t: they never
spoke of II, for it would involve one who
slumbered beneath the sod.
! They were known far and near for their lib
eral'ty, their door was ever thrown open to