Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1895-05-04
Edith--He is very unhappy.
Richard-Indeed.
Elith---Your fathar

would feel far more keenly disgrac,
falling on himself than one falling on
any woman in whom he had an inter
est
Edith with an involuntary glance
toward the SCREEN You mustn't say
such things to me.
Richard-Of course not; beg your
pardon. And what is it you want me
to do?
Edith (rising and walking about the
room)-Oh, it's impossible. | see now
that it's quite impossible. Mr.. Els.
mond, you don't know how contempt.
IDLE feel. I 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.
Richard-You wished to ask me, in
fact, to leave this slur on my dead
fathers name for the sake of these
other people who are nothing to me
Edith-Yes, I did. l ain sorry! |
did not ask you, though. / don't ask
you.
Richard-I am glad you have not
asked Inc; though, on reflection, l
don't know why l 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 all.
Edith-Then what are you going to
do with the letter?
Richard-Ah! you remind me! You
remember said l had something seri-
GUS to say to you. / wished to offer
you the letter as wedding present.
(Another pause. She turns her head
away When she looks at him again
her eyes are full of tears)
Richard-I detest serious converse
ton, as you know. But there is one
think l should like to tell you. |
have known the truth about this ever
since | was fifteen. My father, when
he lost his good name and most things
that made lifo worth living, retained
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 me to
keep silence about it-as he had done.
Edith (half increduously) 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 50 defy his wishes
and make his sacrifices worthless?
Edith-But your own honor?
Richard-Honor is a catchward. It
wants defining; but however you de-
fine it, there are some things which
are more to n man than his honor.
Edith-But you
Richard Don't look SO distressed.
| only mean that I love you and that
all ones life would be very little to
sacrifice if one could lay it out judi.
ciously in such way as to add a 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 I'm.
derstood, and | have quite unreason.
able wish that you should understand.
(She hesitates, then gives him both
her hands
Edith nm very sorry, very, very
sorry
Richard-And I, believe me, am
very, very glad. | have had such al
opportunity as falls to the lot of few
men. | 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 n 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.)
Arthur oh | knew you would do
it, How clever of you! 1t was a
magnificent piece of acting. Edith
looks at him. Come, don't look so
miserable. It's all right now. Here,
give me the papers. (He takes
them.) Come, give me kiss. What
are you looking SO glum about? Was
it because he said that about the
My dear girl, it was only
guess. He couldn't possibly have
seen me. Besides, We have got all the
proofs here, and no one would be.
lieve word he said. Why, what's
the matter? Come, you ought not to
grudge n kiss to your promised hus
band. Don't think any more about
him; it was like his impudence, but
he is beneath your notice.
Edith Take your letters and go.
They are all you will ever have from
me. For the rest of my life | shall
think more of him tlIuu Of anything
else in the world.
Arthur Oh but Edith, come.
Edith (stamping) Go, say. Here,
take your ring.
Arthur believe you mean to marry
that staggering cad.
Edith---l shall marry Richard Es
mond, if he will stoop so far, but it
will be a poor match for him, for he
is prince. (She goes out.)
Arthur---I suppose now he will start
a school of his own with her money.
He always did have the greatest luck.
New York Press.