The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1894-10-27
A WOMAN'S MERCY.
BY Lurana w. Sheldon.

woman,-people had always said that
of her, and yet not even her dearest
friends knew thief ull extent Of her
curious nature. They began to under
friends knew the full extent of her
of her husbands sins; that he had, un-
known to her been keeping another es-
tablishment in a distant city and was
deliberately wronging, not only her but
another woman and a nameleSS babe.
She resented it at first, as any sensi-
BILE strong-minded woman would, and
called for proof, but when they crowd
ed letters, pictures, bills and papers
into her hands she went from their
presence like one dazed in brain and al
most beside herself with sorrow.
When she was alone she went over
and over the horrible statements of
these supplemented, tattling neighbors
and gradually, through the confusion
of agonizing pain, the light of calmer
reason penetrated.
He had deceived her, then. all these
years, these long, happy years. that she
had tended the house and basked in the
sunshine Of his divided affection. She
had trusted him implicitly, and his fire.
quent journeys from home had been
satisfactorily explained by the necessi-
ties of growing business.
But he had deceived her all the time.
he had lied in her ears and smiled, oh
how tenderly. in her eyes during all
that period of ignoble action.
Now he was safe in jail-they told
her that, these g~ossips-and the other
woman he had so cruelty wronged was
lying, cold and silent in her casket,
with her infant folded closely to her
breast. He had killed her., they said,
but no one knew the circumstances, as
the whole case rested on the simple fact
that he had been with her the evening
before and was the last person seen in
her living presence.
When this came to her mind Grace
started almost involuntarily, to get her
hat and shawl. She must go to him,
Of course; she was his wife, her place
was at his side, and it was her duty to
effect his release from this terrible
position of disgrace and misery.
Half way across the room she recol-
lected herself. He was her husband,
yes, the ring on her finger, the certiti-
cate in the Bible told her that; but why
should she go to him now when he had
wronged her to the extent that was
past all human forgiveness?
She looked at one of the pictures in
her hand. 1t was a beautiful picture,
the likeness of a fair young girl, and
as she looked her eyes filed with tears
.-I hDr haarf -aop,ao1 natrtn. l1y,
worse than ever.
81 suppose I ought to hate you," she
murmured sorrowfully, but the face
of the young girl only smiled back at
her in a merry way, and the tears roll
ed faster down her cheeks, as she laid
it carefully among her treasures.
"She was my sister in shame" she
said bitterly. IF I have been wronged
so has she. If she has suffered, so
shall I, but some day. when we meet
in Heaven, a bond of love and tender
sympathy will make us understand
each other"
Then she raised the infants picture
to her lips, and a storm of heavy, bitter
sobS swept suddenly from her aching
bosom.
Poor child, poor little one." she muir.
INJURED softly. $50 you are Charles
boy. my husbands child, but not mine. -
There was a pause for a few mo.
ments while a tender memory swept
over her soul, a pause that came from
In overfilled heart, and spoke of almost
unbearable misery.
The child'S picture was laid away
with its mothers, and after a brief mo-
ment of r~epugnance, which she con,
quered with heroic will, she put on her
hat and wrap and went forth alone
to what she had decided was her sol
emn duty.
'She has gone to plead for him, to
secure his release" some said when she
had left the village, and others an
swered resentfully, You do not under
stand the girl; she has gone to see his
victim and prove to her own satisfac
ton the facts which we have tolt
her"
But again the gossips were mistaken
In the woman'S nature. There wa.
notnlng IN her face as she went he
way to give h lie to any of thei
theories or conjectures, and whethe
her errand was for mercy or vengeanc
only the developments of the next fey
days could possibly determine.
Grace Denison stood at last besid
the dead, and her anguish of soul wa
something frightful. To think tina
this beautiful girl had been so FOUL
wronged-this innocent babe so cruel
deprived of ven it's sacred birthrigh
and now both were lying, stricken b
the self-same hand, in the sleep tina
knew no earthly waking.
And that hand was the hand of he
w dead husband. The mOckery. tn
cruelty of it came very near overpov
tring her altogether. But she was
strong woman, we have said; stron
in that moral courage which most me
lack so deplorahly, and which the mi
jOrity of women possess in only a moo
crate degree.
She had proven her husbands gui
and t%reachery. Now it remained I
prove his crime. The one was Il
worse than the other in her eyes. l
fact, to kill her might have been
mercy, and so the first great sin seen
ed Overshadowing the other.
She started mt last to leave the hous
and was confronted by the victim
mother. She was an aged womaI
very gray. and now so sad that he
very soul seemed bowed with horror.
The mother did not know, it seemed
She thought her daughter was the Law
ful wife and this a wicked interlope
In the very height Of agony and scor