The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-06-30


and made every possible inquiry did he
seek the deserted wife. He rang her
doorbell one evening. She did not
speak, but gave her hand in silence.
She led the way to her little sitting
room. She was alone, for she kept no
servant and her children were asleep
in the next room. She controlled her.
self sufficiently to offer him a chair,
But he could see that she was deadly
pale and trembling violently He fear
ed she would faint
You would better sit down, Mrs.
Bently," he said kindly. "You do not
look well. I wish to talk with you
about about"
About Rollo?" she interrupted.
Have you heard? Is he dead? What
Your husband is alive and well, 1
think: But have reason to think--in
fact-he ana Leora have gone away
together"
1t was out now. A brutally frank
statement he thought, and yet, he had
tried to break it gently! Mrs. Bently
neither spoke nor moved, A marble
statue could not have been whittier.
At last, she spoke huskily with an eff
fort as if speech hurt her.
II have been afraid of this-for
months"
| Mr.. Hungerford looked at her sadly,
| but he did not speak
1t was the first confession she had
ever made of her husbands detection
| and the words sounded strange even
to herself. After long pause, in which
the clock licked loudly, What can we
do? What must 1 do? Oh! how could
| they! 1 am SO sorry for you," she
added, seeing the silent misery of his
face.
"Oh, Rollo! Rollo!" she moaned,
| nearly breaking down, but controlling
herself by a mighty effort. Surely had
the culprits seen these two, they might
have learned that we cannot live, or
sin, or suffer for ourselves alone.
1t was hard to advise her, when he
did not know what was best to be done
| himself. But Sara Bentley was no
| cowardly, helpless creature. She soon
| decided that Mr. Hungerfords plan
| was the wise one "To wait in silence
and let the fugitives report what they
chose. They probably would do so
soon," he said. Rollo was supposed to
have very little money. They did not
know about the legacy. Rollo had not
told his wife or anyone. By dint of
skilful questioning he knew from Sara
the unwilling admission that she was
nearly penniless, and he persuaded her
| to allow him to loan her a sum of
money; taking the horse and buggy for
security, to appease her pride.
She refused to return to her parents.
mo" she said, This is my home,
will stay here until Rollo comes back
to me. He will-soon!"
Il hope so-for your sake" Mr.. Hun
gerford said, as he bade her Good
night"
OF that lonely night-watch of heart
| breaking sobs, and tears, and agony,
no one knows but the poor, wronged
wife. No one can guess even, save
those who have walked in a like valley
of despair and humiliation. But Sara
had unusual courage-and there were
her children, little Frank and Lulu
who soothed her with their loving pratt
tie; but anon tore her heart by de-
mands for papa"
| How could he have deserted them :?
1 never could" she said
Because you have the true mother
| heart" answered a kindly soul
"Some fathers have it; some mothers
spoken? Friends-in the church and
out of it-rallied round her. She OBJ
tanned work from a tailor to do at home
in the busy season, and when that was
not to be had, knitted and crochetted
for a fancy store, developing Won
derful talent, hitherto uneXercised
Whenever Mr.. Hungerford could assist
her without her knowledge, or other
peoples either for that matter, he did
it. So she lived; until more than three
years had slipped away into the unre-
turning past.
She was startled one day by the It'd
| ings brought her by a neighbor that
Mr., Hungerford had sought, and OBJ
| tained a divorce from Leora. He had
| given her up then, at last. And Rollo?
Must she stop hoping for his return?
Her friends eXpostulated, urged and
entreated. And, at last she yielded
and she too, applied for a divorce; and
had no difficulty in obtaining one. But
she would not resume her maiden
name.
No" she said, 81 am Mrs. Bently
to myself even. 1 will keep the name
for my children's sake. / have not
disgraced it" she added proudly. 1t
was the first harsh word she had said.
And presently-so strange is real, ac-
tual life-a curious thing happened.
IT certainly would be unbelievable if
invented She had not had her di-
vorce many months before she was as
founded by the news that Leora had
returned to her husband. 1t did not
seem possible, but it was true. And,
really, when you come to think of 1t,
the only wonder was that the poor
butterfly had not fluttered back into
the warmth and sunshine sooner.
1t was a poor, drenched butterfly
with broken wings, that fell at Mr..
Hungerford's feet one evening, as he
sat in his lonely parlor. There were
tears and sobs and broken pleadings
for pardon, and promises for the fu-
ture, until the mans heart relented;
and together they sought the parson-
age and told their strange story to the
minister and his wife. He asked them
many questions, Questions which II
was humilating to Leora to answer
She had remained with Rollo only a
few months, when they mutually
agreed to separate; she went TO some
of her mothers relatives in a western
state They were Quakers. and, while
they condemned her course, they gave
her home. Their influence had al
last awakened her SOUL and by then
advice she had returned to her hus'
band. She brought letters from then
which corroborated her story.
/ The good pastor gave them much ex
cellent advice, and then he married
them over again And Corlnth was
shaken from center to circumference,
when the tidmgs few from mouth Il
mouth the next day. 'Rollo ana hi