Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1894-10-18

"He is a friend of mine," the Lieut.
enant parenthesized abruptly. Gle
trusts his wife, but he knows that un.
less the truth of her statement can be
established his mother will continue to
think that the poor child sold her dia-
monds to crafty some unworthy eX-
travagance or that she lost them through
culpable negligence, and in either case
accused an innocent woman to screen
herself He shoulders when he looks at
his wife's pathetically changed face,
where shrinking depreciation has re-
placed the old, glad confidence. He
realizes what those two years, lived in
an atmosphere of stern mistrust, have
meant TO her of silent suffering-ay
silent, because this little coward (?),
| who had not the courage to defend her
property, found the strength to endure
omplainingly,yso that her husband IS
forced absence might not be embittered
by a knowledge of her misery. My
friend has separated her from his par
ents forever, unless an almost hopeless
proof can be obtained. But he has
found that, in spite of those years of
cold disbelief not all his love and trust
can comfort his wife for the loss of the
mothers faith and affection, to which
she had once felt herself drawn near,
only to be cast forth with shame"
"Surely, you will not end there?"
somebody cried, as the lieutenant arose.
"Not l, indeed! The end is with a
woman's conscience! Perhaps, if the
fair enchantress should ever know that
happiness is at stake-nay, even a
life, for my friends wife is far from
strong-she may endeavor to set a
wrong right"
"Never!" interrupted his hostess,
also rising. She held her feather fan in
both hands, neither of which she Of
fered to him as he bowed before her
with murmured "Good mghtW
ga bad woman, Lieutenant Brown,
is harder than bad man. Have we not
the wise worlds word for it?O she said.
"And the widow in your story is bad
womanW
81 am not sure yet" the Lieutenant
answered, and SO departed at that best
moment for story teller, when his au-
dience had still other questions to ask
of him.
Lieutenant Brown did not sleep well,
and when he arose he was consumed
with Impotence for the arrival of the
morning mail.
eff it were done, it were well that it
We're done quicklyW he quoted, restless
ly. "That woman has learned long ago
that delay cannot make a bitter task
sweetW Then he gazed wistfully at a
miniature which travelled everywhere
with him. "Are you praying to all
your saints, my poor little grip" he
murmured.
There was one letter for him-a letter
with the Washington postmark and
the date of that days first collection on
it:
stole your wife's necklace in the
manner she described, and the jewels
are beyond my reach or yours. Many
men would read no further, but he who
could conceive the possibility or mag
nanimity in such woman as he knows
that | am, must himself be magnani-
NOUS.
You will listen to my plea that was
driven to desperation to pay certain
claims of my past, without which pay
ment had vowed to die rather than
burden the good man who has since
married me.
You can understand what it means
to a woman to have had all the world
against her for years, and at last to find
interposed between her and that world,
strong arm, an unfailing courage, and
a heart great enough to have faith in
her.
That is what / am risking to give
your wife back her peace of mind,
though / cannot restore her necklace.
To you l trust the good name which
my husband has given me for you are
strong, l know, and | believe you are
merciful.
ROSE RODNEY.