The National tribune., 1890-04-03

She turned away quickly with q sudden lit
tie movement of alarm, her face flushing for
moment.
1T is not Often" continued GeofTery that
/ think-about myself and you."
I" BE wiser still" said Mary. "Do not think
at ALL"
She smiled again mirthlessly, as though at
some bitter thought And again the tone or
the smile struck him chilly, remorsefuly; he
looked long at her. then sighed once more.
MARY" he said suddenly, there is some
thing want TO say to you. Sit down. There
is something | want to tell you"
She looked around Mt him quickly, Rs she
had done BEFORE with q nervous, expectaut
glance. "Is il q thing that can waltz" she
asked" because, if it is, am tired tonight"
He rose and stood by the fire beside hor, rest
ing his arm on the mantepiece, his brow
against his hand, and looking down at her
closely rs she faced him.
Very tired, Nary"
"0h, rather tired. Every place was crowd
cd, and every one was dull"
She took her foot from tho fender and drew
herself slowly upright, as though she would
move to go; and he put his hand on hers to
detain her.
you do not wish to listen to me-" no said
accusngly, yet tenderly. "You put me of.
You will not hear me-"
MOTOR both our sakes," replied Mary, in
coherently. "What is the good what is
the goodP"
For quarter of minute they stood facing
each other, his eyes looking entreatingly, pas
sonatcly hOpelcssly into hers, aud hers look
ing back at him with despair that was no long
or passionate. Their Dyes told each other the
truth now but not for the first time. Months
ago she had guessed his secret; months ago,
turning suddenly toward her one day and sur
prising her as she glanced at him, he had known
that his secret was hers, and she had known
that he knew that she knew. They had said
no word to one another. Mary had hid away
her knowledge, had taken his secret and guard
cd it as her own, only fearful lest by word, or
look, tone she should reveal il. Her life
became a lie like his ; her only aim was to do
ceive the world, TO alay its suspicious. TO lead
it away from the truth. Her conscience trou-
bled her at first scrupos pricked her; she put
them away from her. Godfrey had stood by
and watched her and been helpless.
This had been his punishment. The punish
mont had been bitter unspeakaby. Tho only
woman whom he had ever purely loved, the
only woman whose goodness he had believed
in, was dwariing herself daily down TO his
moral level, and it was he who was dragging
her down. Two years ago, when he had mar
ried Mary, If he could have foreseen this pun
ishment being his, he would have deemed it
bearable-a pity, but not an inadequate price
TO pay for the possession of Mary herself But
he, too, had changed in those last two years.
For year and half after his marriage with
Mary he had lived in an atmosphere of pure
thought aud simple faith, had looked at life
through Mary's eyes, aud learned all unwt-
tingly to find goodness beautiful aud baseness
lOathsome had come 10 shrink from his own
past as an unsightly thing that he would like 20
bury aud forget, that ho dared not think of
Mary's knowing. If the marriage had brought
moral loss to her it had been pure gain 70
him. But in proportion rs he had grown in
| L. I.k A. III.
ti0n grown. To stand by and see Mary lose
her faith in him, TO see the loss OF faith in all
men and all things that came quickly on her
knowledge of his unworthincss, TO watch her
drifting away from her old sweet, tender
healthy belief accepting the conventional creed
of incredulity, TO know her daily growing n less
good woman, punishment that over
whelmed him-that had become greater than
he could bear.
He had sat here alone to.night, and had
thought things out. He must speak openly
10 Mary lie would no lougor ignore her
nowledgo of his secret. He must confess Ii TO
her, and no longer hide it from the world. At
all cost Mary must be saved from this necessity
of daily, hourly deception. He could only save
her by counting outward disgrace. and the dis
grace which touched him must be shared by
her and by their child, and by all who were
near him and bore his name. But disgrace
honestly and braYely borne would not dahlo
her she could live purely through il. hold up
her head fearlessly. dare 10 look the world in
the face with no secret to make her smiles mis-
leading and her words untrue
Mary" he said, you know what want 10
tell you"
Then do not say IT," said Mary hastily.
Let me- so. Godfrey. / am tired; too tired
to hear 1t. Things-things are better left un-
said"
Bat / mean to say It," said Godfrey,
| almost harshly. THAT old charge against me
was true. You have known it. 1 have known
| that you understood"
| Mary had grown very pale; she rested her
| hands against the cbimneypiece to steady them
she looked down at them fxedIy in silence
| while he spoke. lie spoke slowly. with little
panses between his words, aud every word
| came heavily, and with an effort. lie stood
watching her, never moving his eyes from her
| face, aud he watched her still when he had done
| speaking For half a minute there was silence.
| Then, without moving or looking round at him
she spoke suddenly with passionate bitterness.
| Why have you told mef" she cried i
knew! Yes, / knew What does II matter 7
| How can IL mend things 10 speak7 / can bear
i'll can bear anything-but will not talk OF
it. cannot! i will notw
Never after tonight Mary" he said gently.
= Let us face things together tonight just once,
| and decide together what We shall do Z"
What is there to dor" retorted Mary.
| " Nothing. What can there be TO do2'
That Is what have been trying 10 decide
| We must go away where we arc less well
known. This life that we are leading-thal
you arc ieading-cannot 90 on, shall not We
| VIII leave London-go abr0ad-where you can
live your own life and be true again"
"TrueY said Mary wonderingly, aud heI
lips parted in dreary little smile that seemed
| 10 stab him.
For more than "a minute they stood in
silence; then Godfrey put down his forehead
heavily against his hand, and drew u deeE
painful breath that was almost "a groan
e" We cannot 20 back, i" said Mary, codly and
steadily, at lust aud 10 look back, to discuss
things, to regret them, is worse than useless
We have our life TO live, aud our life is--what
II Is. We may as well accept 10. We have "a
live IL out as IL is, not as it might have been >
" We can make IL nearer what 10 might have
BEEN" he pleaded eagerly. Mary, this II
what ! wanted TO say; let us face disgrace, you
aud You and together; face il aud bear il
and look at the world honestly again. OuI
lives are faise-faIs0 through aud through
yours as we'll AS mine 1t Is so, Mary"
" Do deny III Our lives are lie Yes,
know it. Let them be-"
ave will go away" he repeated pleadingIy
1--WE will 90 away-live quietly--liye "a differ
ent life. We need not Say why VIC go-it vii
be rightly guessed-everyono will rightly un
derstand. We shall give up our false position
and you can be yourself again--your own true
sweet self, ashamed OF nothing, living your owl