Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1894-05-12
A WUBLE TREACHERY.


he'd 10 him--those eyes betrayed him
Then he felt mad longing TO seize George
by the throat, and crush his very life out
But the thoughts Of Annie always re.
strained him. Should he be less courage.
Gus. less strong, than that frail woman
Neither Mrs Speed nor her husband sus.
pected these thoughts; they simply saw
a restraint and coldness that were not al.
together natural. The operatives wer,
uneasy under the glance Of his steel-blus
eye, and felt a reverence for his grey hairs
for he had grown very grey and very
thin.
Thanks to him, the OLD bell Of The fac
tory had resumed it's ancient authority
and Florence, kind and considerate as be
was 10 the industrious, allowed no in
fringement OF rules. On the last day oi
every month Mr.. Chipp made his appear.
ance. and as punctually was paid three
quarters OF Florences salary. retained by
job for that purpose. Once or twice Mrs
Chipp. who sincerely loved and pitied her
son-in-law, made an attempt 10 see him,
but the mere sight Of her well-knowr
shawl put him 10 flight. Was IL that the
courage with which he armed himself was
more apparent than realf Did the remem-
brance Of his wife never leave him
"Wbat had become of herr he asked
himself constantly; "where was she ~
He wished that job Denman would speak
TO him Of her; and that letter, above all,
that letter which he had not the courage
TO open. haunted him. waking and sleep
ing. Had he dared. he would have asked
Job for il. One day the temptation was
too strong He was alone in the office. the
old cashier had gone to his lunch. leaving
IA most unheafd-of thing-his key in the
desk. Florence could not resist this; he
opened the secret drawer. but the letter
was not there. job had placed it in some
safer place. or perhaps meant 10 avoid ex-
sctly what had now taken place. In re-
ality Florence was glad Of this. for he
knew only too well that when he IA
tha. letter his resignation and apparent
serenity would come 10 an end He man.
aged 10 endure the week he rose early
and worked hard and at night slept the
sleep OF utter exhaustion. Bot Sundays
were inexpressibly painful To him. the
deep silence that peryaded the building
left him leisure 10 think. Sometimes he
tried to draw. to invent new combinations
of flowers and foliage; but, while he
moved his pencil. his thoughts fioted in
the past, He thought of his utter blind
ness. Of his laughable simplicity. Of his ir-
retrievable shame and misfortunes, until
his whole soul quivered with pain.
Oh, those fearful Sundays! Remember
that he sprang from the working classes,
that he had all their love for that day as
a day Of rest and of simple, quiet enjoy
ment. Had he gone out. the sight of an
artisan with his wife and child would have
stabbed him like knife but his seclud-
ed. solitary life preserved him from these
pangs.
Often in such sad moments the door
would open. aud Annie Speed appear The
desolation of this poor man on these long
Sundays filed her heart with compassion,
and she came with her little girl. know
ing by experience that children have q
strange power of soothing sore and ach-
ing hearts. The child ran TO her friends
with shouts of delight. Florence heard
the little hurrying steps, and turning.
would take her in his arms. feel her soft
kisses ON his cheek. and her dimpled
hands smoothing his worn brow and then
he grew calmer.
Come" Annie would say. with a gentle
smile--'CoIue into the garden with us; it
is so fresh and lovely. You work too
much. my friend"
"My work is my best friend. Mrs Speed; !;
IL keeps me from thinking"
"But You must try to forget, Mr.. Flor
ence."
"Is that poSsibIei One may forgive,
bit not forget"
Almost always the child succeeded in
dragging him away-he must play with
her; but soon his gravity even struck the
child. and she learned to walk quietly at
his side through the flower beds bordered
with box. After a few moments. Florence
almost forgot her presence, but the soft
little hand in his own exercised a magical
charm over his shattered heart.
"One may forgive, but not forpetw
Poor Annie recognized the melancholy
truth Of these words, for she had forgotten
nothing. while she carefully filled every
duty. She, rs well as Florence, was SUR
rounded by everything that could keep
her wound open. The staircase and gar
den recalled sometimes almost unbearahle
recoliections. Even the care takeL by
her husband to spare her these painful
associations, the habit he had adopted Of
always passing the evenings with her, the
care he took always 10 tell her where be
had been, whom he had seen. only served 10
keep alive the memory Of his fault. She
sometimes longed to say to him: DO less
say less"
Confidence WAS destroyed. a panied
smile told the story of her suferings.
George was miserably unhappy. At
last he had learned to love his wife. The
generosity of her nature. the strength ot
her character. had taken him captive. Her
cool reserve acted upon his frivolous
tastes like the caprices OF eoquette. He
had always found his wife too loving, too
tender. She was always the same, while
Sylvia was full Of changes; one day she
quarrcled with him, the next she was
jealous and exacting, the third indifferent.
The peaceful serenity of his wife's afiec-
tion wearied him. Besides, he had hither-
TO been sure of il now he felt that Annie
was indifferent. and that the only tie be-
tween them was their child. Yet he did
not altogether despair.
OF Sylvia, he rarely if ever thought +;
and this sudden thought was not so amaz-
ing "a it seemed. In these two superficial
natures there was nothing that could in
spire profound attachment; George was
incapable of receiving any lasting impress
sion, Sylvia equally incapable of making
one. 1t was one Of those shallow earthly
passions. born Of vanity and idleness, in
which neither devotion nor constancy had
any part. Perhaps, had he seen her. he
might have felt quicker beating Of his
heart, but she had been completely swept
away in the wind of that gusty night |;
every trace of her had vanished. 1t was
n relief To live again without perpetual
falsehood, and though his daily existence
was strong contrast to his previous self
indulgent life. yet he was not discomfort
ed with his lot. The burden Of deception
was lifted from him, and the consequent
relief was enormous.
Prosperous days were at last dawning
on the house. Four of Florence's new
machines were in full swing at the fac
tory, and other establishments began to
grow extremely uneasy. Finally. n very
large sum was offered for one Of the ma
chimes.
.What shall we sayf" asked George.
"Whatever you choose" replied Flor
ence. IL am no longer your partner"
The cold words chilled and mared Geor-
ge's pleasure. But when alone with Mrs.
George, Florence said: "Tell him not 10
sell yet, but to wait awhile" He seemed
only TO think Of them and Of their prosper
ity, not of himself as having any concern
in the matter.
Meanwhile. orders kept pouring in. Tho
quality of their paper and prices, 80 much
lower ON account of their superior facili-
ties for manufacture, made all competition
impossible. Evidently n magnificent flu
ture was in store for the house.
r. a 4 4 III -. ~