Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1889-04-27
sufficiently to understand he held perhaps


the clew to the mystery in his hand.
But he opened it at last. Grace had had
to plead hard for permission to write those
lines, harder still to keep back furious
epistle from her father. But only her
well known writing greeted her lovers
eyes as he opened the letter:
Your wife and children" he read, "are
in the little cottage opposite the church.
May God forgive your cruelty to them"
There was no address or signature. Only
one low moan broke from Ernest's white
lips as he folded the note again and turned
from the house. White as death, SILVER
ing in the soft summer air, he went down
the road to the cottage There was an
ecstatic scream of Papa papaw as four
clinging arms encircled his legs, and Mrs.
Copeland stood trembling and crying in
the doorway.
He gently lifted the youngest child, and,
followed by the other, went into the cot
tage. Mrs. Copeland, crying still, sobbed ::
So you have come backw
Gravely, but not tenderly, Ernest an
swered:
Your husband will never come back
You know best by what want of wifely
love you drove him to drinking, to despair,
finally to deserving you. He was not guilt
less, but ask yourself if you are"
"Who are you?" she gasped.
i am Gerard's twin brother"
81 have heard of you. Where is he ?"
In his gravel"
She dropped at his feet as if he had shot
her. She had been a slovenly house
keeper, a shrewish wife, grating every hour
upon Gerard's sensitive, fastidious tastes
but, in her way, she loved him, scarcely
realizing how she drove him desperate
1t consoled her presently to know that
half of her husbands wealth would be
hers and her children's, and Ernest made
no explanation of the reason why the
search he had promised ais brother to make
for her had been suddenly terminated. He
left her at last to find Porter, Mr.. Wilt
banks confidential clerk. Having received
no orders to the contrary, Porter readily
gave his EMPLOYERS Paris address, and
Ernest returned to the city to interview
his brothers lawyer, and prepared for a
sea voyage.
Over the broad Atlantic the Wiltbank
party accepted the usual tribulations of
sea-sickness and discomfort Only Grace
was exempt. She waited on the Others.
but made no moan over old Neptune's
caprices. White as a snowflake, listless.
with her soft blue eyes sunk in hollows. her
little white hands wasting. her pretty bright
ways all gone, she said she was perfectly
well, and seemed to be dying before her
fathers eyes.
She would not own to being sick after
they arrived in Paris.
They had been month in Paris. and
the French doctor Mr. Wiltbank called in
talked of a want of tone" and "raising
the spirits" of his patient, but Sophie wept
all long, lonely nights, believing her fatal
discovery had killed her cousin.
But it was Sophie who, one day in No
vember, received visitor alone, visitor
who had sent up little note that sent her
with fyin g feet to receivehim.
He was still in the salon, when Sophie
came into the sitting-room, their own pri-
vate salon, where Grace was sitting at the
window.
Grace. Grace! Win you ever forgive
me? 1t was ali mistake. She was Ge-
rards wife, Ernests twin brothers wife
Here, Ernest herew
And Sophie flew out again. She sent
him in alone, for she said:
" must watch, or uncle will murder you
before you have chance to explain"
Ernest entered the room, where pale
shadow of his bright Grace rose to receive
him, to fall into his arms weeping now as
In all her despair she had not wept. But
there were no more tears.
Grace's roses came back in their happi-
ness, and there was a wedding in Paris
where Sophie was bridesmaid, and hosts of
American friends offered congratulations.
But as Sophie sagely observed, shaking
her pretty head,
1t was nearly a tragedy, for if uncle
and Ernest had met too soon, there is no
saying what might have happened