Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1895-12-05

ture again; that you will obey me In all.
and that you will accept the punishment
which l may please to inflict.
In the anguish OF her fear and love she
had promised. word for word, what he had
insisted upon.
On sign Of her husband the young
man, humilated and yilified, had depart
ed, and her expiation had begun.
Her husband had resigned his command
in the army and had gone to live on that
mountain slope, assuming false name,
hiding his secret from all. Like two
stones that fall to the bottom OF the sea,
they had disappeared from society without
leaving any trace Twice year she wrote
TO her mother. Her husband read her
letters, would mail them himself In some
farof place. Finally her mother had DIED,
and from that day no letters were sent.
In that terrible isolation she had gone
through all the stages of despair. FOR
several days she declined to eat, wishing
to starve, but her memorable judge had
said to her:
"You are a Christian. You have prom
ised t. e'av. Trcrefare ct.
And She ohcycd, because even in her cx-
cess If despair and revolt. even amid
her Thoughts If ~uicidc tile idea of falling
in her promise Tad never crossed her
mind That lromi>n WIS, in a certain
seu.e, The ~uj rIa0 4IgaeFl- aurr Of her love,
the Ia.HMl IL that ta5aI her t. tie past.
\ She lea lived lHg Al Ac remained.
She hnped that h,r husband, after hr had
noticed hur swpr'lc~-, doe.lty and pa
tieuee, wuult r,lrut, ana for many years
She had observed his rensiNe forehead day
by day hoping to see on il a sign of for
giyeuess.
He never treated her rudely; he never
allowed himself to be wanting in respect
toward her, nor to speak to her harsh or
sharp word. Only once having found her
sobbing in fit Of despair he had said to
her:
MY life is no better than yours, yet
have betrayed no one.
He had in fact, sacrificed everything
his ambition, career, family, plcasures-to
bury himself with her in the same atone
ment.
She had hoped, but in vain. Days,
weeks, years. had glided on in an inflexible
monotony Self control vanished; she be-
came the sport Of moods according to the
time and humor-now weary OF life, now
tormented by remorse, now irritated and
full OF hatred. How many time she had
said to herself:
"He is old, and am young; he will die,
and shall be free. When shall l be free!"
And now he was dying. At this thought
she felt strange sp!ritlike feeling which
startled her. At last she was about to be
free, her own mistress, her actions free,
her thoughts free, free to love and to be
loved
All, the JOY of escaping from her prison,
OF seeking other horizons, OF grasping
friendly hands!
She felt kind OF intoxication in her
brain and rose, feeling the need to walk,
to move; stiffness was death, and she had
enough Of death, silence GOODNESS, solitude.
And as the moon, which WAS high above
the horizon, sent its pale rays through the
window, she went TO lean against the
mantelpecc, seized by kind Of uneas-
ness She turned her face to the mirror
and stood there looking at herself,
She was still beautiful.
Then her lips parted with smile.
Those who had known her would know
her still. But who would still remember
her: And what had become of her friends,
of her acquaiutanccs?
And what had become ef him2 At this
question She frl, herself seized upon hy
fear. Not that she would appear to him
less handsome or that Sic had been for
gotten. She feared that sire migh find him
unlike The image he had lift in her heart;
that she might find him changed physical
" and morally and not recognize him;
that be would be a stranger 10 her
While she hcaped such thoughts She saw
iafar,, barSn1f N b1n mir rIr fppl,lV Him