The true Democrat. [volume] (Bayou Sara [La.]) 1892-1928, 1898-04-09
ooh, won't you be kind to me and

ooh, won't you % A'u" W NV w."
let me go?"
"To your lover?"
"No, no! I will never see him again
if you will only let me CO."
"But don't you know I love you?
Yes, as dearly as you love that man
downstairs. Haven't you little pity
for me?"
Anne looked at him DULY. His
round, horid face had not paled; ne
looked as prosperous as ever. Love
her? Love was young, and strong,
and comely. with ardent looks and
melting tones. Her heart could not
recognize him under this guise.
II am sorry. It is not my fault.
We have loved each other SO long.
Oh, if you will only be kind enough
and let me go!'
She came up close to him in her
earnestness. Her hat had fallen of,
he could see the little tendrils Of hair
curling round her tiny ears, the depth
of her eyes darkened by coming tears.
"You ask too MUCH" he said, with
sudden anger; II love you, you are
my wife, and very beautiful.
He had both her hands in his now,
and was drawing her nearer. Anne
did not speak, only looked at him
with white face Of terrified repulsion.
He could see the pulse in her throat
beating furiously.
"You would not be the first wife
who had lived down a fancy for an
other man, and has been happy with
her husband" he said slowly, and then
the girl broke down into storm Of
wild, hysterical weeping, covering
away from him with bent head.
my poor child! my dear little girl
You are quite overdone," she heard
his voice saying in quite a changed
tone. "Come and sit down and let us
think what is for tho best"
She suffered him to lead her to
couch, and sat down, burying her head
in the pillows.
Mr.. Thompson was not accustomed
to women, and her long-drawn eobs,
and the pitious heave Of her shoulders
went to his very heart.
"You ask me to let you go, AIMEE
but what would you do then? Would
you 60 to your mothcr?'
"Oh, no, mop
II thought not. And as you bear my
name, in common fairness to myself,
I could not let you 60 out alone in the
world"
She said something incoherent be.
tween her sobs Of wishing she were
dead.
"For Gods sake, child, don't treat
mo as an enemy" he said bitterly.
"Listen! You must share my home,
there's no help for that; but in all
other respects 1 will leave you utterly
free; only I ask you for your own sake
not to see that man again"
Through her own distress the sense
of his generosity reached Anne's soul.
"You are very kind to me" she said
family.
IT will think it out. I will see
whether can think of anything better;
but you must give me time he said.
II will let you know tomorrow. Per-
haps you would like to go to your
room now; the waiter might be coming
up with the dinner"
Anne complied, thankful to bo
alone, and sent word by the maid that
she did not want any dinner, so the
bridegroom dined alone under the
watchful eye Of the waiter, who formed
his own conclusions on the situation.
Anne was lying on her bed, worn
out with the emotions Of the day,
when, about nine o'clock, she heard a
rap at the door, and her husbands
voice asking if he might speak to her.
She got up and went to him, look
ing OF him with eyes full Of appre'
hension. :
II ON going out for stroll and
smoke, and I thought I would just
come to see how you were"
ooh, I am better, thank you" said
Anne, quickly.
| He paused, looking at her with on
expression she could not interpret.
Stoutness, bald head, and ford
complexion cut one off from much
comprehension by ones fellows.
"Well, good night then," he said
awkwardly.
"Good night" said Anne.
! He held out his hand, and she laid
hers in it. He could feel the nervous
twitch in her slender fingers.
II am going to think it over, you
know. Good night" he said once
again, and turned away.
He lighted cigar, and, strolline
along the shore, proceeded to think il
over.
What conclusions he came to can
never be certainly known, but the
following paragraph appeared in the
evening paper:I
"Fatal accident to a bridegroom
A most Elamentable occurrence tool
place OF Narragansett last night. Mr.