Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1897-07-01

Ferrerses, and I follow in the hadeous
mockery of woe, and hear the dust fall
dull and heavy on the coffin lid, and go
homewards again with my secret in my
breast, knowing that, neither for honor,
nor for shame, nor for pity, will unyeil
that secret or whisper it to living soul.
They tell me she is mad. The shock
of recent events following her brief and
terrible illness, has been too much for her
brain. Doctors come, the cleverest, the
greatest, but they give me little hope I
listen to them, one and all. / listen and
say to myself, ''At least she will be spar
ed the suffering that is my portion" The
dreary days come and go. The place grows
more hateful with each. Once Nettie
Croft comes over to see Joan, but the
ordeal is too terrible to be repeated. l
deny myself to her. / cannot see her,
knowing what | know, and I am not sure
whether the sight Of her grief might not
waken in me a similar weakness
Inc child comes and sits with me some
times. We do not often speak, but she
understands me, | think, and her silent
sympathy is the only thing that soothes
my rest.essness, or calms the fever of my
torturing thoughts. I know only one
thing will give me relief-absence-and
at last make Up my mind to go abroad
again-not in any beaten track. not to
haunts of men and fashion. No; to the
widest solitudes, to the toughest and
most periious Of wanderings. There is
nothing to keep me. Yorke's debts are
paid, his effects have been sent to me-
boxes of papers and letters, which lack
courage to examine, fearing to find there
added confirmation of my dishonor and
hers.
l call my lawyer in. l make all posi-
be arrangements for my absence, or my
death. | say to him that man of my
years must provide for all accidents.
Yorke's papers inclose in large packet,
and seal, with instructions that they are
to be burned unread in case Of anything
happening to me. These, with my will,
and all the necessary authority for acting
in my absence, | give into the lawyers
charge.
Darby will remain here under the care
Of a governess l have engaged for her.
Joan has two attendants besides her faith
full maid. Mrs. Birket, old and feeble as
she is, promises to do her best to look
duce me to engage another strange house
keeper. And so, feeling have done all
1 can do, make up my mind to leave the
place for yearperhaps more. One or
deal remains. To see my wife, to take
farewell Of that poor wreck, which is all
that remains of my once bright, sweet
faced Joan.
She was lying on the couch in her dress
ing room-that and the adjoining bed
chamber are the only rooms she uses.
Beside the couch was a little chair
Darby's little chair / saw her hand so
out to it as if searching for something
a look Of pain came over her white face.
do you know me?" asked her gently.
She put her hand TO her forehead. Her
large sad eyes looked at me in curious
wonder.
''He was very cruel!'' she said. "And
it was too hard for me- said it was too
hard for me!'
.'She always says that" said Darby
plaintively. Il don't know what she
means. You were never hard to her, were
YOU"
IL hope not" said brokenly. "Heav-
en- knows | never meant to be"
''For she loved you," the child went
on, Fefy-'eIy uucH que HAS Coiu llie
that SO often. Sometimes think you did
not know, and" mournfully, 'she was
sometimes so very sad. l think she was
afraid of you little"
I looked back at the couch once more.
I saw. the weak arms close around the lit
tie figure heard the murmured words,
"My little one," and saw the eyes, dull
no longer, gaze with one long, yearning
look.
1 thought had grown hard, l thought
nothing could touch me now, but that
sight touched me, and wrung my very
soul. I could have thrown myself down
and wept as weakly as a woman.
turned abruptly from them, and CROPPED
my way with dim eyes back to my own
room, and in my heart thrilled one exceed.
ing bitter cry:
"My wife-oh, my wifev'
(Te be continued)