Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1889-04-21
myon ana hank carly. MARY

"You arc back early, Mary"
eyes, suppose it is early still-ear-
lier than usual. have been at q good
many places-been seen-done my duty
most thoroughly. You did not join
me 2"
mo"
"You promised, il you recollect. But
I did not look out for yon-l did not
expect you."
"You have not much faith in ny pro-
misses, Mary, nowadays ?"
81? Oh, yes. One makes every pro-
mise with mental reservation that one
may break it.
Mary smiled slightly and Godfrey
sighed. he eat in respondent, weary
attitude, his elbow resting on the arm OF
bis chair. his forehead bent down against
his tiehtly.closed hand. The fire burn
cd low in the CRATE the shaded reading
lamp made but dim light in the long
room. Mary drew her soft, silken wraps
more closely about her and shiyered
little.
She stood before the fire looking down
at it talking, not rapidly, but without
many pauses, in half hight, hall con-
strained, wholly unamused tone that had
become more md more her natural tone
within the last few months. She smiled
now and then as she spoke--her smile
never for a moment deceived her hus-
band into believing that she was merry:
1t did not soften her glance, which had
crown cold. critical, keenly observant ;
II did not alter the curve OF her hps-a
calm strange little curve, not sufficiently
aggressive to be cynical, yet some
how suggesting q knowledge OF the MD
den evil of the world, and questioning
doubt Of its more apparent goodness;
She held her fan in her hand and played
with it in an absent way as she went on
speaking but although she toyed with
it absently, it emphasized all that she
said she had leaned the trick OF speak
ing effectively, of raising her shoulders
little TO give point to an incredulous
remark, OF looking up slowly, smiling
very slightly, slowly lowering her eyes
again, Even now, at home, she was an
accomplished, much-admired woman OF
! the world rather than a happy wife, at
ease with the man whom she has loved
and married.
"And what have you been doing all
the EVENING"" she inquired, carelessly,
at last. looking round for an instant, but
without much interest, in the question
ing glance.
"Thinking, said Geofrey, briefly.
She turned away quickly with sud
den little movement OF alarm, her face
flushing for moment.
at il not often, continued Geofrey,
"that l think about myself and you.
"Be wiser still, y said Mary. "Do not
think at all.
She smiled egain mirthlessly, as
though at some bitter thought. And
again the tone or the smile struck him
chilly, remorsefully; he looked long at
her, then sighed once more.
"Mary, he said, suddenly, "there IS
something | want to cay to you. Sit
down. There is something l want to
tell you"
She looked around at him quickly, as
she had done before, with a nervous,
expectant glance. "Is it q thing that
that can wait ?" she asked "because II
| 1t lS i am tired tO-nlgnt.
He rose and stood by the fire beside
her, resting his arm on the mantelpiece,
his brow against his hand, and looking
down at her closely as she faced him.
Every tired, Mary ?"
ooh, rather tired. Every place was
crowded, and every one was dull.
She took her foot from the fender and
drew herself slowly upright, as though
she would move to 60 and he put his
hand on hers to detsin her.
"You do not wish to listen to me. he
said accusingly, yet tenderly. You
put me of. You will not hear me.
"No-for both our sakes," replied
Mary, incoherently. "What Is the
good what is the good ?"
For a quarter OF minute they stood
facing each other, his eyes looking en-
treatingly, passionately, hopelessly into
hers, and hers looking back at him with
despair that was no longer passionate.
Their ewes told each other the truth
now. but not for the first time. Months
ago she had guessed his secret; months
ago, turning suddenly toward her one
day and surprising her as she glanced 1T
him. he had known that his secret WAS
hers. and she had known that he knew
that she knew. They had said no
word to one another. Mary had hid
away her knowledge, had taken his Sc
cret and guarded it as her own, only
fearful lest by word, or look, or tone
she should reveal it. Her life became q
lie like his her only aim was to deceive
the world, to allay its suspicious, to lead
it away from the truth. Her conscience
troubled her at first scruples pricked
her. She put them away from her.
Godfrey had stood by and watched her
and been helpless.
This had been his punishment. The
punishment had been bitter unspeaka-
bly,. The only woman whom he had
ever purely loved-the only woman
whose goodness lie had believed in--was
dwaring herself daily down to his moral
level, and it was he who was dragging
her down. Two years ago, when he had
married Mary, if he could have foreseen
this punishment being his, he would
have deemed it besrabe-a pity, but
not an inadequate price to pay for the
possession OF Mary herself. But he,
too, had changed in these last two years.
For year and a half after his marriage
with Mary he had lived in an atmos-
phere of pure thought and simple faith,
had looked at life through Mary's
eyes, and learned all unwittingly
to find goodness beautiful and base
ness loatnsome, had come to shrink from
his own past as an unsightly thing that
he would like to bury and forget. that
he dared not think Of Marys knowing.
II the marriage had brought moral loss
to her it had been "pure gain to him.
But in proportion as he had grown in
moral stature go had the possibility OF
retribution grown. TO stand by and sec
Mary lose her faith in him, to see the
loss of faith in all men and ell things
that came quickly on her knowledge Of
his unworthiness, to watch her drifting
away from her old, sweet, tender,
healthy belief, accepting the conventions