Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-02-17
BY CHARLES ]. BELLAMY.
~y, what is the matter" he said quickly

E.iy, what is the ,natters' he said quickly, "your lip is blee.l!ng.0
 'Oh, it is nothing, good night"
 Tho horse was put into tho stall with his masters own hand that night, and rewarded for his services, at last, with the kind words that ms.,e him lay back his ears i'll content. Then Pi1Inp went into the house and bolIed tho doors with Q new sense of possession. Bertha was within with him; the whole world besides shut without, for tonight, at least. He hung u3 his hat and looked into the drawing roon Tho gas was i'll full blaze, tho plano open and the music sheets ill place; a book lay on a chair as if just dropped there But Bertha was not ia tho room. Ic turned out the gas and stepped along to tho library But 1t was dark, and no ono was there. In sudden, vague fear he bounded up tho stairs. Sho was rot il her bou- doir, and he pushed open tho door into tho white ch2Ia0 Der. Tho gas was turned down low, Eut hc put asido tho curtains of tho canopy and tl:cro lay Bertha Her lips were just parted i'll a sweet dream, and the dc lco,Is Su.neStioll of s.illle was ln Ter closed eyci:'s too. All the thu.s!ers of Lc.l might be ccfNa2% around her, ti.e doar Load rested i'll Ecrsoct peace. 4 terrible fate trcnblcd over I:er, but s:o was unconscious Of 1t as tho babe of cn hour. IIc bcnt over her with yc-r-,:as tenderness il his eyes: One white arr, lay on tho covei.,et, he kissed it as softly ss if ft wero holy thing. Ho bowed his head low over her face, that seemed ill her sle"i i, l., havc now gent!efess and warmth iil #. IIo drank Tor sweet, child ii1o breath. What was sho dreaming Of, he wondered. II, just to;:caed her lips, when sho moved u3lcas.iy ill her sleep, and murnlured his Ea..!o
 "2crtha. you canlc to rho purc, with no sin OH your white soul IL is who have put it there; l. who loved you better than myself, have 1ut tho sin upon you. And you never knew, ElY love, my darling, yes, my holy onc yoa ucvcr knew what you did His slight forr, shook with Q great fearless sob; Then lie closed sao curtains about her bed with linEcriA.; tenderness, turned out tho light and left the room.
 It was at tho same moment that Jane Ell ingsworth drew letter from her pocket, as she sat il tho parior where Philip had left her. She had read tho letter q dozen times; it was the same that. had 1uttered to the floor when sho had thrown kisses to the bridal pafr and this was tho part that had inter- ested her so much:
 "You ask 1ne why did not marry Bertha! Who has been insulting her, thens Shc is my wife, so far as laws can mako a wife. She left me because she no longer loved me. suppose l was too i'll bred and common man for her. If shc had only known it before. l from her drean, of love. 1 tried to woo her again. thought 1t might be was not fond enough, and ] became so tender 1 wearied her. thought perhaps l was not gentle enough, and then 1 never spoke to her but in approval. But her beautiful face grew colder and colder every day. l saw the light of love that had made it an angels fade hour by hour Then I fell on my knees and prayed her to love nc, but she only drew back her skirts Then told her l must die if sue were cruel to 1:se, and asked-begsed her to love me for pity. But when the tldc of love begins to ebb all the prayers and lamentations of a world cannot stay it. Her face grew cold and hard and tho love died out of her voice. She never confessed she had nista ken herself in marrying lpe tll the very hour she left me Yes, sho is lrly wife, and my heart aches always for Ter Write and tell mo where she is-perhaps some tin,e she may come back to me, for sl1e cnce seemed to love me, and they say love cannot die CCRRAN."