The Monmouth inquirer., 1898-09-01

wards founding q SeamanS nome, OF
some other charitable institution.
/ Everything was to have been mine
under one condition"
'-And that"
81 was not to marry until I had
passed my twenty fifth birthday"
< .'And why not?" she cried, with sud
den passion. Why should he try to
\ prevent your marryingT
"You know the reason. Gretchen
+ He was set against our marriage, and,
thinking l might disregard his wishes
/ after his death, he took this precau-
tion7
There were a few moments of si-
lence; then, in strained voice,
Gretchen said:
what will you do, Frank?v
proclaim the truth. The money can
never be mine-I have forfeited it by
my marriage with you. three weeks
ago My father must have had some
suspicion of what had taken place.
We might as well have defied him
openly, for all the good this secrecy
i has done Even the allowance | had
will be stopped directly my marriage
is known l shall absolutely be beg
gar!'
He spoke bitterly.
1t was too dark for her to see his
face; but she felt his arms drop away
from her, as though a sense of utter
helplessness had taken possession of
him.
Gretchen was the first to recover
from the blow
st will not make any difference to
our love-" she said, Nesting closer to
him, and drawing his arm around her
neck I'VE shall always have each
other-and what will it matter if we
are poor? l love you too well for this
loss to have much weight with me.
When / consented to keep our marriage
secret, is was for your sake-because
knew how you dreaded rousing your.
fathers anger There is no longer
that risk; we have nothing to gain by
silence, and, as your wife, | can live
with you in peace helping you to bear
what, to you. must be such a cruel dis
appointment
He pushed her away from him, i'm
patiently.
Il was a fool" he muttered, "a fool
to rush into this marriage. | have
sacrificed everything by my folly.
What sort of career have | before
me nowy'
wealth does not make happiness"
she said, clasping her hands round his
arm, and trying to win him to gen.
tier mood. You have sacrificed every
thing but love, Frank. Love is the
trueSt and sweetest thing in life
ITO woman, perhaps; man needs
more. Will love give us clothes, and
keep us from staryingg
1--WE could work together. | do not
fear poverty, Frank and who can tell
what change of fortune may be in
store for us?v
"The only change in our fortunes
will be from bad to worse" he an
swered, sullenly. "As to our working
together, Gretchen--it is a mere empty
phrase have no home to offer you
no prospect at present, of getting one.
I should have found it hard enough to
make a position unencumbered; but
with a wife-good Heavens! why did
rush into this madneSs?"
Gretchen shivered, and the tears
welled into her eyes.
She had been his wife only three
weeks. and now he spoke as though
all his love for her had turned to gall.
She had borne much for his sake
she was willing to endure any sacri-
flee on his account, and yet he WAS
longing to break the fetters that bound
them togetherl
Il need aOt be a burden, Frank" she
said, careful to keep all trace of tears
from her voice; Il can live apart from
you, and still work for you-oh, Frank,
my love! my love! will you let me bear
such a martyrdom? | could be happy
with you, sharing your disappoint-
A<-sI f..ll.
wherever you go, and make your sor,
row lighter by being near to comfort.
Your love is more than life to me-and
l am your wifer
ITO my costr he exclaimed, un.
moved by the passionate entreaty in
her tones. II wish to Heaven l had
never met you, Gretchen-this mar
riage has been my curse. Nothing you
offer can recompense me for what |
have loSt-you have been my ruinI
Gretchen drew herself away from
him, as though she had been stung
and, with moan, covered her face
with her hands.
She could scarcely understand this
change In the man who had once
poured burning words of love into her
ears-who had led her to believe that,
without her, his life would have been
desolate, and void of hope.
And now, it was only the money he
craved; the wife he had idolized few
days ago. he looked upon as an encum-
brance, and he gave no thought to the
pain his bitterness had caused her.
Until her meeting with Frank Stan.
ford, three months before their mar.
riage, scarcely glimpse of sunshine
had found its way into her life.
Her parents had died in her infancy.
leaving her unprovided for, and she
had been brought up on the charity Of
relatives to whom she was an unwel-
come responsibility.
she inherftS her mothers beauty
she once had heard somebody say. III
is to be hoped she does not take after
her in disposition"
Those words, and the look accompa.
nying them, had left an impression On
the cht1ds mind, and one day she had
asked to be told about her mother.
The subject was avoided then, but