Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1895-05-16
CHAPTER XIII-Contiuued.


1t was hard, very hard; but Silence was
neither hurt nor offended. "Taithful in
one thing, faithful in ALL" she murmured.
Clasping both her hands around his arm,
she crept still closer to his heart; all the
truer and dearer because even its love for
herself had failed to deaden any other
lawful tenderness.
"Forgive me, my wife. You must not
think that"
81 only think of you and of your pain"
ut must be conquered and shall by
and by"
"Or else the tide may turn; who
Anows?"
mo- have little hope of that My
mother has strong prejudices. In one
sense she is, as they called her, thorough
Scotch woman, warm friend, bitter
enemy. No, no, do not give me hope of
things changing. Better let us submit to
the inevitable. 1t is inevitable now"
They walked a little way in sad silence,
then Roderick broke out again.
did you hear what they said about
Bella's husband? Poor Bella! | knew
1t would come to that; told her so, but
she would not believe me. She was daz-
zled, blinded overpersuaded. Girls often
are, suppose. Perhaps ought to have
spoken out more thoroughly; but | hated
speaking-they never would understand
me. And then they worried me so. Still
/ should have done my duty to them,
whether or no. have not liked to vex
you, my darling; but sometimes l have
vexed myself for days together with the
doubt if I had really done my duty to
them all. l cannot forget them. My
dearest--my very dearest always-you
would not wish me to forget them?"
mo"
"Thank you'll" And then, with another
half sob, he recovered himself. "Now we
understand one another quite, so let us
put it all aside What is done we can
not undo; we would not if we could.
Blood is thicker than water-especially
with us Scotch-but love is beyond all
and stronger than ALL"
"When it is n righteous love. Ours
would not have been such if it had made
us do wrong. We did not do wrong. We
had a right to marry il we chose. 1t
made us happy and harmed no human
being"
Firm and fearless, holding the balance
even, and as just to herself as she would
have been to any other woman, Silence
spoke out Her voice soothed and
strengthened him as if it had been the
voice of his own conscience.
"You are right, as l think you always
are. After all, if it comes TO the point,
man must leave his father and mother
and cling unto his wife, and she will
clcave to him-even though he may try
her little. Do |?
Man-like, he might have wished this
fact denied; but Silence was too honest
eyes, dear" and just then, as they
came out of the dark wood into the moon
light, her pale face seemed to gain sort
of Abdiel-like look, angelic sternness min
gled with it's sweetness. eyes, dear You
do try me very much sometimes, MS no
doubt / do yOu-as all married people
must, more or less, try one another but l
love you'll love you!'
"Do you? often wonder why" Rod
erick answered. with that almost child
like humility and doubt of himself which
was so pathetic, so winning.
az love because | honor, and therefore
/ am afraid of nothing; because nothing
could make me cease to love, except
ceasing to honor. Me, myself, you might
forsake. wound, torture, and if it were
for conscience's sake, | should accept 1t
all. But if l ever came to despise you
as some women have to despise their hus-
bands-pity might last, and duty; but
love would go dead out, and no power
on earth would light it up again. But
now"
She turned to him, her eyes shining
with perfect trust-the very heart Oh
love, love rooted in righteousness. lie
turned, too, and clasped her in his arms,
with passion such as even his lover days
had never felt Then it was the restless
after uncertain bliss. Now it
was the deep content of satisfied union,
each finding in the other more and more
every day perpetual refuge and rest.
'My mother told me | would soon get
over my love for you-and marry some
other woman, who would do just as well.
If II had been, and had lost ysu, and
had to live all my life without you'll But
now--oh, Silence! what in the world
should do without you nowW'
Without answering, she looked up at
him, sudden, strangely earnest look.
Roderick, who had begun with laugh,
as if anxious to get back into the light
of life once more, put his
arm round her.
"Are you tired? Let me help you.
think could almost carry you. Lean on
me, darling"
eyes. / always do"
And so, half led, half carried-for she
was evidently very weary-they came to
their own door.
"What pleasant door it seemsp' Rod
erick said, as they watched the long CLEAN
from the parlor window across the dark
lawn. II enjoyed Symington. l like
luxuries, as like all pleasant things, but
/ can do without them. Now, there are
certain things could not do without"
"What are they?'
"a peaceful, sunshiny, orderly home,
and wife to love me"
She laughed merrily. Eyes, it is a
dear home, if we could only get into it."
For they had found the door fastened-a
rare fact-and had been ringing and ring
Ing, till at last Janet appeared, scared
and hurried.
"Have you been asleep, Janet? Moth
Ing wrong? No ghosts frightened your"
said Roderick, kindly.
NNa m hut the Teddy she hndn me