Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1895-05-24

| 6ullu \utspeIutelyJ -1ou huoW oAut
I am going to marry Arthur Edwards?
Richard 4 have heard that you are
engaged.
Edith-He is very unhappy.
Richard-Indeed.
Edith--Your father
Richard-Oh, that old storyl His
father forged check and let my
father be blamed for it. It killed my
father, who happened to be phenon-
enally honest man. Old Edwards
wrote letter on his deathbed and sent
it to me telling me the truth and urg-
ing me to clear my fathers memory.
A most sacred duty, surely.
Edith-Arthur Edwards is very un.
happy. It is terrible thing for him
that this disgrace should fall on his
mother and sisters.
Richard-We are to be perfectly
frank, I suppose. (She nods.) Then
let me add that from the little have
seen of Mr.. Edwards, I imagine he
would feel far more keenly disgrace
falling on himself than one falling on
any woman in whom he had an inter
est.
Edith with an involuntary glance
toward the screen) mustn't say
such things to me.
Richard-Of course not; beg your
pardon. And what is it you want me
to do?
Elith (rising and walking about the
room)-Ob, it's impossible. I see now
that it's quite impossible. Mr.. Es-
mond, you don't know how contempt
ible feel. was going to ask you
yes, really meant to ask you to de-
stroy that letter and to save Mrs. Ed
wards and the girls-oh, yes, and him,
too, from this disgrace.
Richnrd-You wished to ask me, in
fact, to leave this slurs Or my dead
| fathers name for the sake of these
other people who are nothing to me
Edith-Yes, I did. I am sorryl
did not ask you, though. I don't ask
you.
Richard-I am glad you have not
asked me; though, on reflection, I
don't know why should be.
Edith-There is nothing more to be
said 1t can't be helped. You are
perfectly right.
Richard-My dear lady, there are
some things which are dearer to man
than his honor. My father loved the
woman George Edwards married.
That's oil.
Edith Then what are you going to
do with the letter?
Richard-Ah you remind me! You
remember said I had something seri-
GUS to say to you. 1 wished to offer
you the letter as a wedding present.
(Another pause. She turns her head
away. When she looks at him again
her eyes are full oftears.)
Richard-I detest serious conversa-
tion, as you know. But there is one
think l should like to tell you. /
have known the truth about this ever
since I was fifteen. My father, when
he lost his good name and most things
that made life worth living, retained
o few treasures, among them the sheet
of paper on which Edwards had prac-
ticed the forged signature. He left
this paper to me and charged mo to
keep silence about it las he had done.
Edith (half increduously)- y)-Then he
had proofs, and he never cleared him
self?
Edith-But your fathers wasted
life? The blight upon you? Your own
lonely life? must not take the let
ter. You must show it and the other
proofs and clear yourself and your
poor. poor father.
Richard-And SO defy his wishes
and make his sacrifices worthless?
Edith-But your own honor?
Richard-Honor is catchward. Tt
wants defining; but however you de-
fine it, there are some things which
are more to q man than his honor.
Edith-But you
Richard-Don't look 80 distressed.
I only mean that love you and that
all ones life would be very littlo to
sacrifice if one could lay it out judi
ciously in such way as to add little
to your comfort. Please don't try to
look indignant. There is no earthly
reason why should not tell you this.
Otherwise you would never have un-
derstood, and have quite unreason-
able wish that you should understand.
(She hesitates. then gives him both
her hands.)
Edith am very sorry, very, very
sorry
Richard-And I, believe me, mn
very, very glad. l have had such an
opportunity as falls to the lot of few
men. I have been able to tell you
what you are to me in the presence Of
the coward who sets woman to fight
his battles and skulks behind screen
to wait for the fruits of victory. (He
points TO the mirror in which Edwards's
crouchlng figure is seen reflected.
For q moment no one moves. Then
Esmond takes the papers from his
pocket, puts them in her hands and
walks out. She stands looking after
him with the papers in her hand.
Arthur comes out looking rather red. J
Arthur oh knew you would do
it. How clever of you'll It was q
magnificent piece Of acting. Edith