Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1896-11-05
WOODBURY., N J, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 1896

to the door The station was nearly
three miles off and Alice, who gener-
ally was waiting for me, did not appear,
For few minutes I stood fuming in
the hall, delighted with my rash griev-
ance. Then shouted, "Alicep'
''Coming!" was returned from the
room above, and Immediately after my
wife hurried down stairs, fastening on
her hat as she descended.
Alice got into the trap and took the
reins, as usual l seated myself beside
her. The man got up behind, and so we
started on that last miserable expedi-
ton. Neither of us said much l looked
at her once or twice sideways. Never
had she seemed SO handsome or in such
glowing health, but there was an un-
naturally deep flush upon her cheek, and
her lips were tightly closed together
When we reached the station, the
train was already in it. ] rushed to the
booking Office, bought our two tickets
q have them now, for they were never
used), seized my change and hurried
my wife off the platform, reaching the
train just as it was beginning to move
Alice hesitated.
''Get in, for goodness sakel" cried
peevishly, opening carriage door. and
then-God forgive me- gave her
push, and you know what happened
next.
My poor wife never spoke again, but
as she lay i'll the waiting room, mutt
lated and dying, she just opened her
eyes and looked at me. Then sad,
sweet smile came over her face, and,
raising her arms toward me, as l bent
over her in an agony of remorse, she
put up her dear face for kiss, just as
she had so often me in happier days.
stopped down, and then-somehOw
/ could not give her that last kiss.
Something held me back-a feeling of
utter shame and unworthiness. A shad-
ow Of pain crossed her face, the arms
fell back, and in a moment the oppor-
tunity had passed forever, and our span
of welded life and love had ended-so.
Do you remember that awful inquest,
Harry? You were good to me that day,
old fellow. No one could have proved
himself truer friend.
You remember that, when / gave my
evidence, said that tried to assist my
wife into the carriage. Well, you know
now that | was playing with the truth,
and you will probably despise me for it.
! almost hoped that there would be a
verdict of manslaughter-that l should
be sent to prison.
There is only one thing more to tell
you. When the accident became known,
/ received many kind and sympathetic
letters from my friends and hers. I
hardly read them, for each Of them was
fresh stab tome IF they only knewl'
my conscience kept saying to me. She
knows. She died cursed by my i'll tenn
per, without parting kiss, and if we
meet in another world what will she
say to me or / to her?
But there was one letter that arrested
my attention and caused me far more
pain than all the others put together.
1t was from the lady whose invitation
had cansed our fatal quarrel. 'Per-
haps, it ended, lit may be some COM
fort to you TO keep the inclosed letter
from her | received it after her death
probably the last she ever wrote. F."
DEAREST MAY-Thank you very much for
your most kind invitation. l should dearly
love to come and see you again and have a
good talk over old times. But Charlie cannot
well spare me just at present, and he is so
good and kind to me and so nice about every
thing that do not like to be away when he
wants me.
We are just off for a iaunt to celebrate our
wedding day, and Charlie is calling for me to
start. Your loving friend. ALICE.
That is what she was writing while I
bullied in the hall. That is what she
had written, when she silently listened
to my g1umbling ON the way to the sta
ton. Oh, the irony of it all
Now you can understand, Harry, why
it is that l take so long getting over my
loss. One thought, and one alone, some
times arises TO comfort me. Perhaps
that last movement Of hers meant for
giveness, and-perhaps-when her at
tempt at reconciliation failed, she sent
me that letter al a message from beyond
the grave. Odds and Ends.