San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-11-11
CHAPTER XVIII.

Up to this time almost the only facts
that the DunstanS knew about Mrs.
Hill were these,-that she was the
daughter of clergyman in London;
that she had married when she was
eighteen, and had lost her husband be-
fore she was four-and-twenty; that be-
tween these years her father and moth
er also had died, and that she had now
almost no near relations or connections
living of any kind.
II was an only child" she told them
once, land my father settled in London
when he was young, far away from his
own people,"
She accounted in this way simply
enough for her solitary position, as far
as her own family was concerned; but
on the subject of her husbands connec-
tionS she was more reserved. From
something that she once let drop by ac-
cident they gathered that he had
mother and sisters living, with whom
she held no intercourse; but she never
voluntarily spoke either of him or them.
She talked sometimes of her old life in
her fathers house when she was girl,
but she never talked of her married life,
nor ever mentioned her husbands posi-
ton, nor told them where her home
with him had been.
Ibid you live in London after you
were married?" Helen had asked her
once, and she had half evaded the ques-
ton.
1--WE moved about a good deal. Yes
we were often in London; my husband
was fond of change" she had merely
answered, and then had begun to speak
of something else.
II suppose the fact is that her hus-
band was scamp, and that she doesn't
quite like to say SC" Helen said medi-
tatively one afternoon in Esther's alb
sence, when-as they often did-she
and Miss Dunstan and Gabrielle had
been talking about her. "Most likely
great scoundrel, who made her very
miserable"
And then they all agreed that moth
ing was more probable, and Gabrielle
said Though hestating little as to
whether or not she was quite justified
in saying it)-
II knoic she did not care for him, be-
cause she told me so once. She just got
somehow drawn into marrying him. be-
cause he was in love with her, and other
you know. She told me that one day."
tie at the recollection of IUhy Mrs. Hill
had told this story to her.
II always thought she hadn't cared
for himl" Helen on this exclaimed
triumphantly; land my own opinion is
that he must have done something very
bad indeed to her. l don't pretend to
guess what it may have been, but am
sure all her misery when she came here
was not caused by sorrow for the loss Of
him. OF course we all supposed it was
at first, but l don't believe it now one
Bit"
And then Aunt Susan in her tender
way said-"Poor thingr-md they
went on for the next ten minutes max
ing out a plausible little story amongst
them, which should account for Es-
theirs sadness, and be kind eXplana-
ton of her reserve. If she had bad
husband, and had led "a miserable life
with him, what could be more natural
than that she should shrink from speak
ing of him, and should have broken off
all connection with his people, who
probably had taken part with him
against her?
Il am sure when she first came here
she looked liked a woman who had been
made to bear something till she could
hardly bear it any longer" Helen said.
"She has not got that look now, but
am certain no creature could have come
to be as she was six months ago with
out having been driven half wild by |
Yes, the more think of |
it, the more certain | feel" said Helen,
complacently, THAT her husband must |
have been a scamp"
And so they all fell into this belief, |
and a score of slight things seemed to |
confirm them in it. They were natural |
ly curious about Esther's history: any
people so intimately connected with her |
as they had become must have been so,
and Helen especially was curious; but
Gus waV of making out a story in her