The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-09-02
AV0ICE FROM THE SEA.

to myself to write my hearts history.
Three years ago I was happy as any
girl that ever breathed. The warm,
dry air of Adelaide had restored my
mother to health, and the days passed
like dream. We had all we wished
for, including many friends.
Among the men who came most
frequently to see us was Graham
Blyth. He was Australian born and
bred. A fine fellow, with a heart like
a romantic girls. Another was Gilbert
Fame. Gilbert was a man of the
world, light-hearted, polished and with
a synical wit that made him delight
full companion.
Both said they loved me. but each
thought I preferred the other. Nor
was 1t easy to make up my mind.
Looking back now l know that 1
cared for Graham best, and let him go
only because 1 was dazzled by the
others more brilliant gifts, and also
because l was a little bit afraid of
the roughness Of an Australian life.
This the poor fellow honestly real
lied, though he broke down completely
when l told him one evening that 1
did not think the colony altogether
er's health permitted 1t, we should go
back to Europe. He staggered as if he
had been struck, but all he said was.
You're the first and last woman 1
shall ever love, and if you do not share
my home, no one else will With these
words he left me, and l never saw
him again.
Am 1 going to see him now?
Then Gilbert proposed to me. He
was obliged to return to England and
begged me to promise to follow as soon
as possible. / almost said yes, for
mother was thinking of marrying
again, and l was fond of him in a way.
lie tried every possible argument to
induce me to change my mind, but at
that time to no purpose. He then got
me to agree that If 1 ever thought bet
ter of his suit was to write and tell
him.
Being thus over-persuaded, my
mothers marriage threw me on my
own resources. Graham made no sign,
while Gilbert wrote constantly urging
me to accept him. I held out a little
longer. But everything was against
me. Even my home had grown dis
tasteful, and l knew myself no longer
indispensable.
more than once I tore up the letter
which was to let Gilbert know l had
surrendered, and 1t was fully a month
after reluctantly making up my mind
that / wrote and said that If he still
cared for me / was ready to be his
wife.
I'm due course came his answer. 1t
was not so fervid as his previous pro-
| testations, but l thought this was ow-
ing to his not feeling quite sure of me.
He begged me, however, to come home
at once, his aunt would receive me with
open arms, and we should be married
from her house.
"On my arrival in England he was
all affection and kindness. Still there
was something in his manner not no
ticeable before. There was no longer
that intense solicitude for my least
wish which had so fascinated me in
Australia-rather a certain offhanded-
ness that prevented his welcome from
ringing quite true to my now morbidly-
awakened perceptions. At even that
early date 1 began to fear 1t was fool
ish to write and offer ones self after
some months separation. 1 taxed him
with being changed, but he strenuous
ly denied that anything was wrong,
and his aunt did her utmost to set my
doubts at rest. She was never weary
of declaring how fond he was of me.
For a time they lulled my suspicious,
but it was impossible to set them alto
gether at rest. Though without the
strength to act on it, l had convic-
tion that Gilbert did not care for me as
he used to, and lest possibly he had met
somebody he liked better, l implored
his aunt to speak to him before it was
too late.
"She laughed at my fears, but at
length promised that she would at least
mention them to her nephew. Perhaps it
was the nearness of our wedding day
that prevented her keeping her word.
Alas for me! she left matters take their
| course.
I'm less than a year knew we We're
utterly unsuited to each other. By
| painful degrees the discovery dawned
| upon me that my husband was one of
those men who, without very strong
feelings, are so governed by vanity as
to consider a woman's refusal the worst
shame that can come to them. He ad-
| mitted having acted as he had mainly
in order to prevent my becoming the
wife of Graham Blyth, and throwing
him over. AS for himself, he confessed
he thought me too exacting and neu-
rotic, not at all the sort of girl l had
| seemed in Australia, and hinted that
| if his aunt had put the matter plainly
to him, he would have let me off.
Then the utter hopelessness of my
position became manifest. / had forced
| myself on an unwilling husband. 1t did
| not take me long to decide what to do.
| A letter from my mother saying she
was not very strong determined me,
| and my husbands last words were. L
suppose you'll see Blythe
rs there no way out of all this
wretchedness? AS I sit gazing over the
| ocean toward the East where Graham
still lives in peace, the water looks
| cool and inviting. My heart hungers
to see him. but know my own weak
ness. l cannot believe he has forgot
ten me, and dare not tax his loyalty.
| "A plunge would be easy and they
| would say it was an accident"
|
Graham Blyth closed the diary. Then
his head dropped until it rested on the
cover, and he fell on his knees beside
the table.
Dawn braalxinp found him cro,ohoa