Connecticut western news., 1897-11-11
HER CONFESSION.

HER CONFESSION. Long after the speakers words had died away the listening people waited in hushed expectancy, unwilling to be- lieve that he had finished and unable to descend all at once from the heights to which they haa been raised. John Ordway and his wife came from the chapel among the last. Both had been strongly moved by the evenings sermon. but in different ways. indica- tive perhaps of their widely differing temperaments.
 Ordway helped his wife into the wagon. the horses struck into swift trot, and the driver leaned forward to draw the rug more closely about his companion, peering up into her face so- licitously.
 They moved swiftly past the scatter ed houses of the village and out into stretch of open country. Three or four times the woman raised her head as though about to speak. but checked herself with an effort.
 Fl have something to tell you, John" she said at last ''I--I am afraid l ought to have told you long ago..
 Are ye sure ye oughta" he asked gently Maybe there ain't any need.
 "There is need" she answered "I have known all along that it would be better to speak out, but somehow 1 never felt that could until tonight " She paused az though to gather courage Its about myself and Willis," she said You renember"-
 Ordway bent forward suddenly with a warning shout to the horses, and the wagon jolted heavily in deep rut.
 That's me all over, he said. with a chuckle. II took special notice of that hole 30 as to skip it on the way home, and here 1 am drivin right into it again, like an old fool That's what comes of listenin to sermons ye can't quite understand.
 Won't you listen to me, John2" his wife asked pleadingly.
 ''Of course I will," he answered, "only my nerves bein so wrought up I'm sort of afraid to have any big shock come on me sudden, ye know"
 Ordway put his arm around her and drew her closer to him proteotingly, as a mother soothes Q nervous, sleepy child.
 II wasn't jokin," he said. "I'm al- ways glad to listen to ye, only think ye'd best wait till we get home. We're most there now.
 ''Go in by the fire, said John Ord way, when at length they rattled into the farmyard. "It'll take me some time to fix things up.
 But when he came from the stable, he found her waiting. leaning against one of the square posts of the porch and looking out across the darkness of the valley
 "I wanted to wait until we could go in together, 7" she said.
 The long, low kitchen was full of changing sha 1ows, which danced across the time polished floor and lost them selves in the corners of the irregular ceiling, when Ordway crossed to the huge fireplace and piled some sticks of soft wood on the glowing ashes At length she spoke slowly and with evi- dent effort at calmness "You must try to be patient with me, she said. You'll be astonished, l know. and I am afraid you'll be angry | and couldn't blame you-but I | want you to wait till-till I've fin. | ished."
 She hesitated as if to gain strength, | and he marked how the slender figure ! quivered with the effort of her hurried breathing.
 ''I had promised to marry Willis be- fore knew you, she said unsteadily. We quarreled about some little thing. I and each was too proud to speak first. Finally he went away without seeing me You know how we heard that he I died in Africa. I believed tive all did-and cried myself to sleep night after night because hadn't acted diff ferently.
 ''As time went on began to forget little by little, and after awhile it all seemed like 8 sort of dream. Then you came into my life and taught me to trust you and turn to you for help in everything And, in truth, loved you more than you could ever understand. !" Her voice trembled. "You believe me, JohnP" she asked. Say that you do believe me-
 II ain't never doubted it." he an- swered softly
 II was happy and contented for two long years. It was like heaven, and you were happy, too, Johny'
 "Happyp' he said. 'Ah, yesi No body'll ever know how much. And then little Dora was born" she went on, land somehow all our trouble began right there, for it seemed as though her baby hands took hold of our hearts and pushed them apart, little at first and then moro and more. We'll, things got worse and worse, and when she died I almost believed you were to blame in some way-I don't know how. Oh, it's awful to think about. but l couldn't help feeling that wayl Will you ever forgive me for it?'' "I never laid 1t up against ye, he answered. 1T reckoned it was natural, and knew ye wasn't we'll, so tried to forget all about that part of our life, and done it-almost.
 ''The rest of my story is harder tc tell and harder to listen to. You TO.