The Monmouth inquirer., 1889-08-08

Mr.. Fitzclare, during which he sue
cumbed. He was buried at Paddington,
near Sydney. Inclosed are certificates
and other papers, relating to this matter;
also letter addressed, presumably, to
his wife. 1t was owing to the advertise
ments in the various newspapers that
these discoveries have now been brought
to light, as the man Walsh has only just
returned from California. | am, &c"
''Then she absolutely was widow
when Geoffry asked her to marry himf'
And yet Col. Massingbird felt regret fos
the poor young husband, who died SC
sad death, away from home and coun-
try, only tended by the rude kindness OF
bushmanl After reading these papers
carefully through, he thought it better
to postpone the interview with his
daughter till later in the day.
He brought the letters and papers to
] Garments sitting room, saying, "These
have been forwarded from Australia,
| dear"
Every trace of color fled from her face.
"Oh, papa, what is it? What do they
sayY
"You had better read your letters, "
said he, preparing to leave her.
'sStay, papa. : Do please tell me the
particulars.
"Your husband is dead, and has been
these two years"
'sPoor Allenl"
Col. Massingbird then read the letters
from the lawyers and their agent. As
he read on, her face became sad and re-
morseful; sorrow filed her heart as she
thought of the lover of her youth, in all
his beautiful manhood. Oh, what bitter
repentance was gnawing at her heart at
the recollection of the cruel letters she
had written him two years ago. She
would have given much, if it could only
be bIotted out of the Book of Life, for
him to have died with that bitter pain at
his heart. Her unfaithfulness to his
trust, BE true to me, Carmen" She
fancied even now she could hear the
pathetic refrain, and it reproached her.
81 will leave you to read your letter, :"
said her father, as he kissed her tenderly.
"Ah, papa! My deceit is coming home
to me now"
II wish could bear your trouble for
you, child"
mo, DEAR" she answered with more
energy; sit is time learned to bear
some of life's troubles for myself. /
have been SO guarded and cherished that
I have become wicked and heartless in
my selfishness."
NAY, nay, Lowell You judge yourself
too severely"
When she was alone with trembling
hand she broke open her husbands let
ter. 1t seemed like message from the
dead. It was dated July 20, 19-:
s'MY OWN DEAR CARMEN:
81 am longing for your next dear let
ter. The mail is due in about week,
though I know must not expect to hear
quite SO frequently now that you have
left school. How beautiful your new
home must bel I can see your dear lit
tie boudoir, your flowers in the balcony,
even the canary, Dick. You are just
fitted for such surroundings, and it
makes me all the more eager to strain
every nerve to make our fortune. But
do not, I beseech you, forget me in your
gay, bright life.
ssThe risk is very terrible. But oh!
when succeed, how great the rewardl
81 have made arrangements for selling
my share of the Station at a good
profit and pushing up country. really
am waiting, with what patience I can
command, for your letter. I feel sure
there is one for me.
s'Tell me everything, sweet wife. You
can hardly understand what your letters
are to me out here-drops of precious
water in the desert, the shadow of a
great rock in a weary land. ! long with
hungry longing to see you, to touch
you.
Lately have been reproaching my
self sternly for something in connection
with our marriage which I thought
little enough of at the time. You are
perfectly blameless, my darling; always
remember that. persuaded you. If I
can excuse myself at all, my great love
for you must plead for me. And this
love is my hope, my life. 1t is indeed
sTrue love, the gift which God has given
To man alone beneath the heaven;
1t is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silver tie,
Which heart to heart and mind to mind,
In body and in soul can bind
81 know, dear, you do not care for
poetry; forgive my quotation. My heart
is so full of you that out Of that fullness
the mouth speaketh; or, perhaps, ]
should say my pen for me.
ssBut / believe am gloomy, out of
sorts. am going on a short shooting
expedition, with rough but kind, hon
est friend of mine, yclept Bill Walsh;
but shall return in time for my precious
letter. God have you in his keeping.
s'Most dearly loved Carmen,
"Your loving husband,
ssALLEN FITZCLARE."
The tears streamed down her face un-
needed, as she read through this letter,
SO touching in its pathetic love. Then
| L L. - Ios~ 1o