Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-03-21
CHAPTER II.

Tsllmadge Van Dyke, having watched, had
drawn his differences Yes. he concluded.
Helena WAS stainlessly innocent. As for Oswald
Biasden, the repose and quiet self-command of
that gentleman defeated his closest scrutiny.
All this time Tallmadge felt himself consumed
with growing and indignant hatred of Justin
Worcester. It seemed to him the worst atrocity
that this man. whom fate had so blessed by
giving him such wife az Helena. should hold
ner in such insolent disregard. There were
times when he even thought bitterer things re-
gardlng him who had married the one woman
of all others in the world capable of making
his Ownd days dear and sweet.
Tallmadges hatred steadily increased. One
day a fever seized him. and for fortnight he
lay very seriously i'll. Helena. hearing of this
illness. made efforts to see him, but his physi-
clans forbade her presence at his bedside.
There were several hours when his life almost
hung by a hair. He was delirious. and in his
deliriiDi often spoke of letter that he intended
to write, though 10 whom and with what intent
his watchers failed to gather.
On a certain night. while his nurse was doz-
ing. Tallmadge from his bed. He still
at times delirious, in spite of his fever having
markedly abated. In the chamber next to that
where he had lain was writing desk, and this
he now approached. Scarcely conscious OF
what he did he opened the desk and seated him
self before il. Then. with a hand of perfect
steadiness. he began a letter to Justin Norces-
ter. 1t was a uerciiess missive, indeed. and
written as though some cold observer Of jas
I'm s household surroundings had chosen TO dis
cuss In 1t his believed blindness and self-ab-
sorptioI. Then il went cruelty to treat the
current reports and slurs concerning Helena
and Blagden. ''You stand today. one SEN
tence ran, in the light of husband who will
lngly turns his back upon what many another
husband has shed blood when he discovered 1t.
AVID IA
the jest of those who proffer you their outward
respect. for behind the mockery of all such lip
service lies their conviction that you are either
terribly fooled or terribly indulgent."
Iallmadge had finished his letter when he
heard an approaching step. 1t that of his
hired nurse. reused from an unsuspicious nap.
The sick man rose. thrusting his recent work
into compartment OF the desk. As he did so
siddiness came upon him and the nurse,
shocked and dismayed, had almost to support
him back to bed.
His recovery was DELAYED because Of the
effort he had used and it was not until fort
night later that he was sufficiently recovered
to leave the house
Weeks elapsed, however. before he came
across the letter written in his semi-deirium.
and then he found that his memory of having
composed and transcribed 1t was almost as
vague as the airy incident of some dream. To
his amazement the chirOgraphy did not at all re-
semble his own. As ii by malign inspiration
he had wrought every stroke with an amaz-
ing secretive skill AstOnished, even dis
gusted, he was on the verge of tear
ing up the sheets which contained it. for
the sending of an anonymous letter he had
always held to be cowardly beyond words.
But this extraordinary work Of brain and
hand In the clutch Of fever-work which nor
mai conditions Of health would never have en-
abled him to complish-affected him with a
sinister fascination: and instead Of destroying
the curious lines he placed them under lock
and key.
On his recovery. as during his illness, Helena
was sympathy itself. Sne gave a congratu-
latory dinner in mis- honor and invited only
such people as she felt sure he would wish TO
meet And yet, as Iallmadge well knew. these
very people had often flung her name from lip
to lip, and with that heartless derision. too.
which scandal daringly employs when guilt
Is uaproven while innocence has been doubted.
Never having liked Justin Worcester since
he became the husband of his cousin, Tallmauge
found this evening a new reason for uisliking
him. In a conversation which these two men
held over their cigars, after the ladies had gone
from the dining room, Justin struck his listener
as the very OF self satisfied effrontery.
This was not really the case; Justin only spoke
with natural warmth and feeling OF his own
domestic happiness. When he praised the
wifely duteousness of Helena, Tallmadge almost
ground his teeth; but when he referred to
Blagden i'll terms of affectionate interest and
added carelessIy yet meanlngly: Hes 80 kind
about going to places with Helena and never
complains. dear old fellow, any more than she
does. at my laziness in not going then Vt
seemed to 1alimadXe, Tor few turbid seconds,
as though he must strike the speaker on his
impudent lips
That night he drank more wine than at any
time since his illness and its effect upon him
was by no means mild. He went home and
took from II the anonymous letter which he
had written Justin Worcester. 'Send il"
whispereda tempting voice. The handwriting.
rs he now treasured himself, was marvcliously
disguised. Could he initiate 1t i'll the way OF
superscriptior on an envelope? No, he
soon concluded, but he could print
Justin's name with pen and ink, and
this he had soon done But even after he
had inclosed the letter within the envelope
thus directed. he had no fixed intent Of really
despatching IT, For long time he sat and
gaZed down upon 1t. with botn hands support
ing his bowed head. Nearly all this while Temp
tation growing stronger in his soul. At
last he rose and presently he had left the house.
During the next ten minutes the letter WAS ir-
revOcably posted
moderated pulses, he became The prey of acute
remorse. What had he DONE he asked himself
except an act of the most unmaniy baseness!
And If this act bore no fruit more evil than
that Of his OWE self-contempt, would not such
dark product alone be forceIul enough to affect
sternly his entire future life?
But the fruit which II bore was far bitterer
than that Justin Worcester was seated i'll his
library, ut work on his history, when the letter
came 10 him. He opened 1t. read 1t Through,
and turned white as death Only few MIN
utes ago his wife had entered the room clad in
street costume. She was going to picture
show with Blagden. she said. She looked
specially pretty; he shut his eyes as he
recalled her appearance, and the
image came to him with new
and frightful irony investing it. The side light
from u near window had struck her hair in this
way. bringing from it certain peculiar hazel
glimmers that he loved. She had worn gloves
of a special tawuy tint; he could see those
gloves now; the kid was Of that unGressed sort
he had always liked, and she had "a cluster of
viole. at her bosom. He smelt those yiolets
amid his torture. Il IN going with Oswald, "
she said. How the echoes of her voice pierced
his brain I'VE shall be back for luncheon Of
course" she had pursued, in her sweet voice
full of its dear characteristic chimes and ac-
cords
he rose staggering. he had never been a
man of much moral or mental strength. He
possessed intellect, il Is true but slight virile
power went with il. The surge of conviction
that he stood or the verge Of Madness His
memory dsrted through a hundred past Incl
dents, recent more remote. Some men
would have been agonized by murderoG3 long
ings- He was not; he scarcely Thoughts of Blsg-
den. Ii of her he thought, of her whom
he had almost deified. IN his allegiance his
confidence. his worship. Some weak people
are strangely unselhsh. and he was one of them
A horrible sense of culpability besct him. II
it vas true, cried hls conscience then ne was to
blame for it even more than she. Yes, he had