Rocky Ford enterprise., 1896-07-09

blotted out from my
mind. Two years
| which hold ne pc-
tion. no thought OF my OWE, towaich l
can look back with any pleasure. must
write of that wretched time. but will
make Its record as short as possible.
Nevertheless. will be candid, and
show myself in as bad light as truth
compels. do not seek to excuse my
self by saying that many another In my
place would have acted as I acted. l
hope there are few in the world VINO
have passed through such grief and
shame as mine.
AT first. without for the moment los
ing sight Of the vengeance i meant to
take on the traitor. Eustace Grant, Il
set myself the task of forgetting the
false woman who had fed from my side.
vowed l would destroy the love bore
her and learn to look upon her with
scorn and contempt, as the basest of har
sex. II the thought of suing for d.
vorce entered my head l banished 1t at
once. cared not to resume my freq
dom. So long as / was bound to ore
| woman, there was no chance of my b.
ing cajoled and deceived by another, II
ever could be fool enough to love and
trust another woman as I had loved
and trusted Viola.
Besides, shrunk from the exposure;
l shrunk from the thought of beicg
made public laughing stock, as man
whose wife had left him fortnight AFTER
her marriage. No; l would teach my
80 4.
was all. sfr.stTT
But how to forget? II cursed hera
by day, / dreamed Of her by night. Thsu
she came to me, sweet and pure az I
thought her on the day when I made
/ her my wife. l saw her soft eyes, her
I graceful form; heard her fresh youag
loving voice, and in my dreams WIS
happy, for could never dream evil Of
her. But again and again, when I
awoke, and remembered what she nar
was, l sobbed as few strong men permit
themselves to sob. and then only in tie
dead Of night, when none can hear or
see them.
would forget! l swore would fer
get! So, in search of forgetfulness, +
plunged into whirl Of fierce dissipa-
ton. / became to all appearance the
most reckless Of reckless set. r
gambled for large sums. lost or waa
thousands at sitting; yet only provu1
to myself that 1 was as Indifferent -
money as l was to everything save the
loss of Viola. Curiously enough, 1 dill
not ruin myself at the gambling-table.
On the whole, won largely, and so con
stantly that my luck became by
word. My luck! / smiled bitterly a.
men spoke of me as lucky Lorraine.
l tried in every way to force the Nom
ory of Viola from my mind. For awhils
L blush to say SOL drank to excess
perhaps I hoped to kill myself. In thess
and other unworthy ways passed hall
the year.
Then came the reaction-the loathlna
of self-the disgust of the life l wai
leading. sickened at the sight Of n.
boon companions. Everything Wal
weariness; nothing brought the flush III
excitement to my cheek or carried III.
for moment away from my grief. Sud
denly | turned my back upon all m,
pursuits. l went down to Herstal Alb,
hey, which was now at my disposal
and, with as supreme a contempt pf
mankind as ever my predecessor ieit,
l buried myself even as he had done.
And people around said that eccea.
tricity ran in families, and that yalus
Mr.. Lorraine was following in his faith
er's steps.
But why during these months hsi /
not sought the excitement of revengins
myself upon the man who had wrongei
me? Why had l not kept my vow OF
killing him when his dream of Joy was
at its height? Simply because Spew
not where to look for him. He and his
no less guilty companion had left no
trace behind them-no clew that might
be followed until it brought me face to
face with them. had made inquiries,
and inquiries were still being made on
my behalf; but as yet had not di,auv-
cred Grants hiding place. He seemed
to be man with, SO far as could as
certain, no friends or connections. Miss
Rossiter, with whom he or Viola miHht
have corresponded, died two days after
the elopement. Her brother found,
but he could give me no intelligence.
Mr.. Monok, the solicitor, acting, he said,
on instructions, refused to give me any.
So could do nothing but grind my
teeth, and long for the hour when my
path might once more cross Eustace
Grants. l was fatalist enough to be-
lieve that, sooner or later, this must
happen.
l lived on in the dreary solitude of
Herstal Abbey. Each day found me
more cynical and misanthropical; but
each day l renewed my vow of ven
geance. Its accomplishment was the
only thing in life to which could look
forward. When Grant lay lead Mt my