Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1889-05-29
ANNETTE,
A STRANGE MARRIAGE.


A STRANGE MARRIAGE.
Annette Harding was not in love with
Philip Curzon, yet in the dying moments
he sent for her and besought her that she
would marry him. 1t would soothe his
last hours, he pleaded, if she would let him
call her wife, and she had consented to the
marriage.
From the moment that the clergyman
pronounced them man and wife Curzon be-
gan to grow better, and Annette then real
Used what a serious step she had unwilling
ly taken. She was now linked to man
she did not love for life.
The doctor was no less surprised than
she at Philips recovery, and probably took
all the credit himself for having brought
the sufferer back from the grave.
'1t is a startling case, Mrs. Curzon; one
almost unknown in our experience" he
said. 'But we are rejoiced to tell you that
there is a faint hope that, with great care,
your husband may live.''
"Always the way with women. They'll
stand quietly by and see you cut your arm
of, if you tell them it's got to be done;
but they never can bear good news" grunt-
ed out the old practitioner, as he bent over
the girl who had received his tidings of
good cheer by falling in a dead swoon at his
feet, and who, be found, had thus unex-
pectedly thrust. second patient on his
hands.
"To live? Oh, God, am I a murderess
that I should wish him dead?"
80 Annette, on her knees, her face buried
in her hands, wrestled with herself in the
few moments she now so rarely found of
solitude. Day by day the invalid gained
in strength. until hope became almost
certainty. When he knew that he might
live, the lines of peace about his face van
ished, and great dread came in their
place. In his perfect health and strength
and manly vigor this girl had said him
Nay. Now, into what had he forced her?
4 hopeless attendance upon his sick bed-a
bed he could not hope to rise from for long
months. 1t was too cruel. In some way
he must give her back her freedam. Once
he said to her:
sit has been great mistake, darling,
but have little patience and all will be
right"
She thought he knew he could not live,
and smiled to think how little death came
at our bidding.
A year later, and Mrs, Philip Curzon sat
alone in her boudolr. Around her were
scattered every evidence of luxury and
wealth. 1t was the anniversary of her
wedding day. A year ago she had stood
beside dying man, and 10! the dead man
had come to life. Health and strength had
again returned to Philip Curzon's frame,
but with them wall had been built be-
tween two lives.
Why had Philip so changed? she won
dered. Had she failed in her full duty as a
wife? Alas! he exacted no duty. What
was there in this which should cause Sigh?
Day by day, week by week, the barrier be-
tween them had been growing higher. He
had, perhaps, married her through pity for
her loneliness, and now-and now-regret-
ted it. How handsome he had looked that
morning as he coldly said his good-by! If
only he would ask her to love him q little,
perhaps perhaps
But bitter burst of tears left the SEN
tence uncompleted. A rap at the door
aroused her. 4 servant entered with a
card. On it was the name of her husbands
lawyer.
"Admit him." she said, and, wiping
away the traces of tears. sat waiting.
81 have come, madam" he began, when
the servant ushering him IN had withdrawn,
"spon most delicate GRAND. Mr.. Cur
zon has confded to me the full details Of
your marriage, and how, by a false state
ment, as it were, you became his wife. He
wishes you should be absolved from vows
he considers must be irksome and save by
death there is alasl no refuge but the
courts.'
With white, startled face she heard him
through.
''My husband desired you to DO the bear
er of this INSULT" she then questioned.
"He asked mo to find some means to free
you; could suggest no other, and from
what he told me scarcely supposed you
would receive it in this way. As his con-
fidential adviser, the matter will go no
further. He has decided to sail to-day for
Europe and there learn yonr decision.''
''To-day! At what hour?" she gagped,
sudden sense of desolation curdling her
heart.
'The steamer leaves her pier in two
hours from now. He asked me to hand you
this note, and in any trouble to send for
me-"
Then, with low bow, he left her. She
glanced about the room. Had abe been
dreaming? No, the note still remained 10
her hand. Eagerly she tore it open.
81 could not say good-bye''-he wrote
-''my pitiable weakness would have be-
trsyed me. can only rid you of a pres
ence obnoxious to you, and pray that on
the stormy deep God may be more merciful
to ME than when he spared the life hated,
since in your eyes hateful. have seen how
hopeless it was that should ever win your
love, and so, my own, give you up--for-
eyer.
''Fasterl fasterr' called out the svlo in
mate of q carriage to her coachman; and
when at last the smoking horses stopped at
the pier, their destination, the vessel still
lay chained to its mornings.
''Come imp called voice in answer to a
knock at his state-room door. But when
it opened Philip Curzon thought an angel
stood there. For one brief moment each
looked into the others eyes, when he open
ed wide his arms and she sprang into their
embrace.
So the brave ship lost passenger, the
courts case; but Philip Curzan gained-a
wife.