Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1889-08-24


should never see you again
"And yet have only been out OF chicago
| three weeks In five years"
'And | have not been away at all since
returned from Newport"
But you might have seen me II you hao
cared to, you know" ! said, remembering
how we had parted. Il suppose you are
married now" l added, trying to speak
lightly.
ssNo I am not married, and never shall
| be-" she replied soberly.
There we're many passers, but each one
was intent upon his own business or pleas.
ure, and no one needed us. The noise OF
travel on Adams and Canal streets, made
continuous roar, but even then, amid the
hurry and confusion, | put my lips near her
ear, and said:
II wish couId induce YOU TO reverse that
decision
"What do you meant" she questioned,
with a surprised uplifting Of the eyes ana
the slow smile that had caDtivated me at our
first meeting, dawniug on her face.
II mean that by becoming my wife you
could make me the hsppiest man in COOK
county"
Consider the risk; you know nothing
about me-"
"Except that | have thought Of you d ay
and night for FIVE years, and been miserable
| without you. II am mistaken in you, -ano
| am not might as well be wretched with
you as without you"
argued like lawyer; butt could not
make you happy"
| "And whyl Do you not love met"
She lifted her ewes TO mine, and SAID:
s'Do YOU not knowa Have I not often told
your'
''Never In words"
'Then you shall hear it; listen: l love
you-Oh, heaven, how we'll This Is no place
to tell you so-but if l marry gu, will you
| promise never to pry into my past, never to
| question me concerning itl"
II will promise anTtbing."
| you are certainly very rash. May you
never regret this meeting and these
| words
"And now-shall / escort you homei Shall
| 1 call a carrageF'
AMY bomel That shall be ike all the rest;
a sealed book to you. If you wish 1t, will
| 60 with YOU now to the clerks office, and
| afterw ards to a magistrate or a minister
| II we are to begin in mystery, one day is
as good as another. The marriage must be
legal, though, and in order that 1t NAV be SO,
! must tell you that was christened Ellen
Irving Jones, though left off the Jones
during my stay In Newport"
This startled ms slightly, and was also
astonished BY her willingness, even eagerness,
to be married Immediately, yet l was very
happy, an not in the least daunted.
| You are taking me entirely on trust, !
observed
mo, not entirely. l learned incidentally
tb at YOU are the kindest Of landlords, that
you 10 not allow your agent TO distress youi
tenants, and that you have kept poor old
man aud his wife under a roof for months,
without asking them for rent l think
should have learned in time where you lived,
from these people, aud should have stolen a
sight Of YOU sometime, had we not CHANGED
10 meet to-day"
| l had elegant apartments on Ontario Street,
and thither took my bride that afternoon.
Shall we go awaYa" ] asked Would you
like wedding trip to the seaside or across
! the ocean % p
Il have lately been very ILL.," she replied,
"und if it will please you as well, l would
rather remain quietly here for the present"
She did Indeed, look while and thin, and the
pretty walking dress she wore was far from
tight
As the DAYS went by, Ellen never went out
| without me, aud never spoke OF sending for
her trunks, Or visiting home or relatives. This
seemed very strange, but | kept my promise,
and did not question her. However, though
| Ellen was a model wife, and charmed and
fascinated me afresh every day, her cont;nu-
ed silence concerning her past life, began In
time to prey upon my mind | tried to reason
away nv doubts and fears; told myself that
| so long as | had kind, faithful, and passion
ately loving wife, l need not care what she
| had been. Besides, how could so good wo-
man, whose every day acts showed her
| to be kind aud console tious, ever have
been or done anything to be ashamed
| of!
| One day we we're driving in Lincoln Park,
when we met iue turnout, presided over by
| a handsome coachmau in irreproachable
livery. On seeing him Ellen started violent
| ", and pulled her thick veil over her. After
we had passed the carrage she leaned heavi-
" against me, and her head fell forward
She had tainted She soon revived, but Of
| fered no explanation, and l asked none,
| DuC DTOOQSu III seCTeC ONCI Lu6 HSsuCutI
and ii gickening fear that some other man,
either lover or husband, held a prominent
place in her past history, took possession OF
me- tried to hide the state of my mind
from Ellen. How miserable l failed to do so,
| the following letter Will show. 1t was on my
dressing case one day when | returned from
| my office, and for the first time since my
marriage, found no beautiful woman waiting
| to cling rouud my neck and look lovingly up
into my eyes. Here is the letter;
DEAR james, am going from you never
| to return. Not because there lie In mo any
! lack of wifely devotion, but because ! am max
on the guillotne for you; / would rather die
than leave you, but / must, for your sake,
| though 1t breaks nv heart to do so. / fancy
| you have accidentiY learned something of my
history or else you are torturing yourself with
conjectures will reveal all the mystery to
| you, but can not look into your reproachful
| eyes afterward.
| You who have been daintily bred and ac-
| customed to wealth and the rehnements with
! which it surrounded YOU, will be shocked to
| learn that my mother was a rag pieker-an
| honest, virtuOus and kind-hearted woman,
| but still a rag-picker. | cannot remember
when my father died. Ny mother and |
| lived in one small, miserable room, and she
| managed to pay the rent and buy food enough
| to keep us alive.
| When l was five years of age began to re-
| ceive instructions in music from an italian
| neighbor vino was street musician and
| thought he could make me useful.
He WAS really kind hearted old man,
| though his knowledge of music had its limit
ations, and sfterward when | sung tn hi
| on the streets daily for three years, he divid-