Daily Republican., 1888-05-10

As Florence finished reading the
letter, Miss Strickney entered.
"Oh, Maryl my husband-he's s
goner and Florence Atwood fell for
ward In deadly swoon.
Five years passed away. Florence
Atwood sat In the bright, little sitting
room Of her spinster cousin.
Five years of repentance In sack
cloth and ashes made Florence At
wood a pale. sad-faced woman. ALL
the old self-will that had ruined her
life was gone; but at 25 she was far
more beautiful than at CO.
For the last I've years she had been
q wanderer over the face OF the earth.
Never despairing, but every day hop.
ing to meet with the ooject of her
search; but she only sought in vain;
and home to her native land she came,
despair OF last gnawing at her heart
strings.
Florence, Mrs. Wharton will be
offended If you do not go. She 10 such
an old friend, you know"
my dear. do not ask me to 20. I
would only be skeleton at the least"
Florence. II you go on In this way
you will be found dead before q month.
You must rouse yourself. accepted
the invitation more for your sake than
my own, TOR have not irequented
such places of late. You will 90, lust
to please me. won't you, dearP"
81 would do anything to please you,
my cousin. What would have done
all these yesrs we're it not for your
good advice2"
That night, at Mrs. Wharton's
party, nearly all the old faces greeted
Florence again. How glad they all
were to see her among them once
more. How they reminded her of the
past,
Turning her head to look after an
old friend, who had passed her by
without seeing her, her eyes fell on
one that brought the past more vivid
before her than all the rest had.
1t was August Marsh, the mar who
had done his part TO separate her from
her husband.
5he felt his eyes upon her; she could
not speak to him again, and with al
sickening sensation she turned away
to look lor her cousin.
She made her way among the throng
OF dancers, but her cousin was NO.
where to be seen.
PASSING the conservatory, which
was but dimly lighted, she looked in.
There was no one there. and with q
sigh of relief she entered and sat in
front OF pillar Of roses.
She had not been seated manyj
moments when shadow fell across
the floor.
my dear Mrs Atwood, this is an
unexpected pleasure" and August
Marsh seated himself on the settee byl
her side.
Mr.. Marsh lavishcd his fascinating
smile, whispered in her ears the same
low, tender tones of five years ago
But how disgusting they seemed to.
night The fascinating smile she re-
turned with look of haughtiness; the
tender tones she answered with the
most irigid politeness.
But Mr.. Marsh was not to be cast
aside so easily. Her freezing manners
only made him the more determined
in his advances.
mrs. Atwood, rumor says that you
are divorced from your husband |
Florence, forgive me-" and Mr.. Marsh |
seized her hand; "forgiye me. but I I
may say 10 you now what 1 dared not J
say years ago, Florence, love you ii
Florence Atwood wrepched heri
hand IRON his clasp, aad in the twi. |
light of the conservatory Mr.. Marsh
could see tie flash OF her blue eyes and !
the crimson tide IN her pale face.
Or, IN my case, as in all others,
rrumor takes an unwarrantable liberty. !
l am not ,. divorced wife, and no man |
can ever take my husbands place in /
my p.ffections.
FLORENCE forgive me; p
leave, sir, this Instant
Mr.. Marsh detested scenes, and he |
len the conservatory without word |
'Oh, George, George, if you could
witness this scene you would forgive
mel" and Florence buried her face In
her hands.
"Florence, my wife, 1 do iorgiveI
YOU"
With a low cry, Florence sprang to
her feet. Was she dreamingl
No; standing before her, with out.
stretched arms, Was stalwart, hand.
8 ONE man, awfully bronzed and
bearded.
my hushand-a' last, at lastl" said
Florence, rushing wildly TO his EN-
brace.
"Oh, my husbandl how could you
leave mer Tongue can never tell
what l have suffered all these years,
cried Florence, clinging to him.
"My darling, what have l not suf-
fered for the last five years2 Ihave|
often during these years been near
you; and God only knows whether
you would have heen aware of my
presence tonight were it not for the
scene l witnessed from behind that
pillar of roses.
And we will never again he sepa-
rated in this world, my husband, Said
Florence, with sob.
"Neyer again, my own dear wife,"
Hes. nresd and saHoe IN th, city at