Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1893-05-19
A MYSTERY.

In cheerless apartment ON the
sixth floor of q New York tenement
one cold. bleak November night sat
n young woman, whose face bore
evident marks Of intelligence and re.
finement.
Two small rooms comprised the
narrow domain to which she gave
the name of home. Their cherries.
ness was increased by the absence of
everything except the most neces-
sary furniture and by the wailing
wind, which found entrance at a
hundred crevices. sending icy cur
rents across the wretched garret.
The young woman, crouching close
to the dying fire of a small stove,
was lost in sad reflections, from
which she reused herself at intervals
to glance at little crib, wherein lay
an infant, all unconscious of its
mothers anxiety and distress. Her
husband, Robert Desmond, the sec
ond son Of an English nobleman,
had fallen in love with Victoria st.
Clair, the pretty and intelligent
American governess of his younger
sister. and married her in opposition
to the wishes of his family. The
English aristocracy look with much
disfavor on mesalliances Of this kind.
Soon after their marriage the reg
iment in which he was a lieutenant
was ordered to India. The young
man resigned his commission, and
unframed as he was in any business
or profession found himself at 25
thrown on the world without penny
and young wife to support. His fa-
ther, a proud but generous man, had
disinherited him, but offered his son
a sum sufficient, if properly invested,
to maintain him in comfort for life,
saying that all further intercourse
between them must cease.
This money was accepted. The
young couple went to Paris, where
he soon plunged into the most lux
urious life of that gay city. Though
man of generous impulses and a
loyal and affectionate husband, Rob
ert had an unfortunate passion for
gambling. His little capital was
soon lost at the card table By the
sale of Victoria's jewels and some
money she had prudently saved
they were able to accumulate little
more than enough to pay their pas
sage to New York.
After weary weeks spent in futile
efforSs to obtain work, the little fam
lily, which had been increased by the
birth of daughter, drifted from
moderately comfortable lodgings to
this cheerless tenement house. Their
little capital was now gone.
For several weeks it had been Rob
ert's regular practice to leave their
poor quarters at nightfall, without
telling his wife where he went or at
what hour he would return, and re-
appear in the early morning. He
evaded her questions or only an
swered in monosyllables.
Night after night she was kept
awake by anxious fears and suspi-
cions. If she could but know his des-
tination, comprehend his work, but
not being able to fathom the mys-
terry her imagination pictured the
near approach of even greater mis-
fortunes than those to which she
was already accustomed. 1t was
plain that her husbands work was
laborious. for, although he never re-
ferred to it, he came home every
morning completely exhausted. He
grew daily more taciturn. careworn
and morbid. Can it be wondered
that Victoria suffered all the torture
that such a condition of affairs can
bring to a sensitive woman7
The child, turning uneasily in its
little crib, began to cry. Victoria
took a tin cup from the stove and
gave its contents to the baby. 1t
was the last drop Of milk, the last
morsel of food she had. What grief
wrung the mothers heart as she
tried to soothe and comfort the little
one, uncertain that she would be
able to procure sufficient food to
keepit alivel
Toward morning Robert returned,
evidently very tired, and was sur
prised TO find his wife still awake.
Throwing himself on the poor cot
near the wall he was soon fast asleep.
For some moments Victoria gazed at
him through her tears. mentally ask
ing if this was the man who had
charmed her girlish fancy and won
her young heart with promises OF
bright futurei
At length. from sheer exhaustion,
she sank on the dilapidated lounge
near her babys crib, and her weary
eyes soon closed. For three hours
she slept soundly. Awakening un.
refreshed she was conscious of a
sickening feeling of faintness. the
cause Of which she knew too well,
and then came the dull misery Of re-
membering that there was no money
To buy provisions for breakfast.
D-l~.ss. A.