Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1889-07-19
CHAPTER XVII.
THE DISCARDED WIFE.

Philip crossed the hall and entered the
lighted room beyond, for night had fallen.
He started, and for the first time a feel
ing of pity and tenderness stirred in his
heart, as his glance fell upon the forlorn
little figure sunken in the deep armchair.
under the blazing chandelier.
Dulcies pretty childish face had chang
ed so in a few brief hours he scarcely rec
Ognized her. 1t was gaunt and haggard,
with dark rings under the big, hopeless
eyes-the face Of a hearth broken, despair
ing woman.
She was suffering-there could be no
doubt of that. Ina moment, as he thought
how treacherOusIy he had been entrapped,
the sOftened mood changed, all the old
bitter resentment coming back.
you wished to see me?" he said, and
his voice sounded harsh and unnatural,
even to himself.
Yes"
She tried to speak calmly, but it was of
no USE A lump rose in her throat. Gov
ering her face with both hands, she burst
into hysterical sObbing.
1t did not last long. With a determ-
ined effort, she recovered herself, and
lifted. her big. solemn eyes, so pitiful in
their look or appeal.
Philip, husband I have only this to
say to you. Do with me as you will
send me aWay-discard me; but always
remember this, that I love you. It was
my love that tempted me to sin.
"LoVe!" he echoed, bitterly.
Yes Will you not believe me?"
True love is self-sacrifcing. 1t is IN
like it to fOully and cruelty wrong the OBJ
ject upon which it is conferred"
Philip, you are too hard. Deeply as
have sinned, my Otfense IS not without
excuse.
His face darkened; a sudden trembling
passed over him.
you came between me and the woman
who was to have been my wife. May God
forgive you. I never will"
She reeled as though under a sudden
blow, and put her hand to her head.
Let me tell you all-everything," she
said, in a low, pleading voice. The
hardships and trials of my young life
the suffering I have endured-the terrible
struggle 1 had had with temptatiOn-the
circumstances under which I came to
BOnnyview Hall"
He stopped her with gesture.
1T would be worse than useless. do
not care to listen. Never lift the veil that
hides from me your past life. 1 would
rather not look behind it, lest be over
Whelmed with deeper horror than ever. 1t
is enough for me-more than enOugh-tO
know that L have married a vagrant out
of the city streets"
@Oh, my GOd!"
"a nameless, homeless creature, the
blood in whose veins flows, perhaps, from
q stream smirched and suliied by a thous-
and crimes, he went on, Feientlessly
The RaynOFs are of spOtless lives, and
hold their honor high. 1t has been left
for the last of his race to stain the noble
family name by a mesallience that we'll
might cause his naughty ancestors to turn
in their hOnored graves.
Cruel neutrality-suspicious. words. But
they were spoken under the excitement Of
passion. TOinette's petty filings at the
! lowly origin of her rival had not been
! without their effect.
Philip had been bordering them over
/ since, and fancying things thousand
/ fold worse than the reality. until it would
! some escaped convict or professional thief
! suddenly appeared to claim Dulcie as his
/ daughter.
/ The wretched girl had fallen back in a
/ kind of collapse, her lips parted, her star
ing, dilated eyes fixed IN breathless horror
! upon the speakers face.
But you are my wife; have married
/ ycu-there is no help for it, ne went on
/ Bitterly asst regret my madness and
4 folly, all that remains to me now is to
/ make the best Of the situation. Shall ]
/ tell you, DulCie, what I have decided to
do?"
A spasm Of exquisite pain thrilled her
it was the first time he had ever called hel
s'Duicie, F" and the name sounded sWeetly
on mis- lips. even though spoken in anger
/ After waiting moment for her to reply
! he resumed:
''You were ambitious, it seems. to be-
come mistress of Highlands, and cGuirt
you deny it. as she started up suddenly