The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1888-11-03

out to sea; ! returned them to his
would probably live 1t the same" | said
81 would certainly want to love no othe
man than Philip Grey, even though kney
it would end as It has"
ais there no hope for me. Zellah
Never to be any, then? ! had hoped tha
in time
''If you love me, Dick, don't repeat IL
| could not marry one man, loving another
and have told you | shall love him for
eyer"
Perhaps the agony he saw in my eye,
touched his great heart
He suddenly turned and strobe to the
edge of the cliff, and am sure there were
tears-actual, 'yomanly ears--in his strong
manly eyes.
IVhen he returned, however, they were
quite composed
"Will you take sail with us this morn
ing, zellah?' he asked gently. "It will do
you good.''
I shook my head.
81 would rather stay here and be alone,
and hear the sea-gulls cry and the waves
break. No, cannot 60"
SO he went down the rocky path, leapng
and scrambling with athletic agility, and
left me alone with my sorrow.
Once he looked back. | think he was
inclined to return, but | rose as ifto 20, and
he continued on his downward way.
Not often does it happen that a couple
are parted at the altar steps, yet such had
been my DESTINY.
The humble village folks had felt iubilant
-hattered, when it was learned thai 'the
squire" was TO take his wife from their
midst; yet, as in all communities, there had
been many to presage evil. But never such
evil as came-oh, God
1t all came back to me as l sat there in
the sun. The cool, dim, religious light of
the village church, the village folks in Sab
bath attire, the soft-yoiced clergyman, the
hand which claspcd and caressed my own
then the stir at the door. the inward rush,
and:
"lloldr' cried a woman's shrll voice.
81 forbid the hans. No man can lawfully
have two wives. / am Philip Greys wife" !"
My mother it was who shrieked oul-my
mother who tainted and had to be carried
away. Somehow | walked out steadily but
not on the beloved arm upon which had
entered; y ct the only face saw was his
dark, beseeching, drawn. shall not-I
never can forget it. Like one in a dream
l heard the yallagers' commenls--.lhe de-
nunciatons, threats and gossipings of
Philip Grey's former marriage.
Like one in dream ] had been ever
since, even when he came, aud kneeling at
my feet in the presence of my mother, told
me the story of his lfe-the mIs-mated
marriage, the separation and supposed
death of bis wife. What maltered it all,
when in any case the result was-this?
Again shadow fell across my feet. This
time my heart leaped madly, as it always
had in response TO his presence.
'Iellah! Oh, be!oyed, could not gov'
he cried, standing bare-hca,lel before me. 81
could not-I will not go without you.
should go mad out of your sight My heart
would get so hungry yealning for you,
sweet, that would-I mrst--end its cry,
ings forever. Before God-by all His laws
of love-you are my wife. H'hat, beloved,
matters the sordid view of a sordid world?
Zelah, he dropped his beloved voice, and
drew a step closer, his ewes burning their
way to my very soul-''I know you are
brave Without you am coward, and
heaven itself seems further -away-a very
myth to my sinful, skeptic heart, in fact
With you, heaven itself lies in my grasp
My Yacht is waiting. No one would guess,
beloved, until we are safely away, and my
whole life will atone for all you leave for
my sake, dearest"
IL hardly understand, Can all life
atone for dshonor-fOr TO go with you''-
rose, white Gained by great emotion II
must leaye behind all honor-here and
hereafter. must resign, not only mother,
but God! No, my love IS strong, but you
ask too much. Thus far | am at least in
noceDt. IFould you, who profess 10 love,
have me otherwise--a memory accurscd by
all who loYe me, PhlipP'
His face had been ghastly, his eyes fever
ish now all the light had fled, leaving them
only dull and heavy.
Forgive me. am mad with pain," he
whispered loarsely, putting ont his hand
in cropping way. Glow cruel you are in
your tender way, sweetheart. had called
God and heaven decisions | came 10 seek
you and defy them by stealing you, fairly or
foully, cared not which. I.came up in
the hope of daring, youth and loYe's mad
ress shall return spritless, and with
ont you. my HEARTS treasure e-the treasure
which could brook no time"
! smiled wanly, and placed my hands in
his.
"Good-bye," ! said tremulously. Life
is brief, its punishment or reward sure,
Goodbye until we meet where all ways
meet.'"
, "Good-hye! Goodbye. how awful that
word sounds from your lips 10 me. If II
must be good-by between us. then let it be
B one to accord with our beautiful past,
Zellah. There there aud there! my beau
; tifuir' He had caught me in his strong
} arms. He pressed burning, ,resistess kisses
upon lips and brow and hair. ''You will
take those with you to the grave, and give
them back beyond IL, | know"
Then he was gone, and remained dazed
miserable, my every motion Frustrated and
? the noon bells rang in the village beyond.
placed my hands upon my ears 10 dead
en- the prOsaic sound.
: Below was 1oil-material and systematic
, In my heart was chaos vulnerable. Oyel
me came an awful impulse-to fling myself
= into the sea and end it all forever.
D But IL was momentarily only. thought
I of the patient, widowed mother WAITING