Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1898-04-06

on the grass blades.
"Marjoric, l love you'll" l faltered. "Hear
me and then answer me-"
She paused a moment after my fervent
avowal and the assurance that the litiga-
ton which held my fathers estate in jeop-
ardy was drawing to q close and that l
would soon be able to take good care of
so sweet a wife. As I looked down into
her face l thought I read love for me in
her tranquil eyes.
"We love each other, john" she said
very quietly, but very tenderly.
took her in my arms and kissed her
pas~sionately. She tolerated my caresses
for a moment, then gently pushed mo
aside.
~ love you," she said. II don't know
why I tell you this when I must tell you
in the same breath that / can never be
your wife"
Her face grew white and wan. Dull
suffering was in her eyes, and a shudder
shook her delicate frame. I felt the iciness
Of the moment and olutched at the win
dow hanging for support. Then, taking
both her hands In mine, I looked stead
lastly into her face and asked: Marjorie,
what do you means Why can you not be
my wifea"
She caught my arms and put them
around her neck. "John," she whispered
huskily, ~ am married."
r A burning kiss on my mouth, and she
was gone. I was conscious only Of the
sudden emptiness of the room. Wretched
and heartbroken, I sought my own cham
Der, and there, I may as well say it, l cried
for the first time since my fathers death.
/ was able nov to account for many
things about Aunt Marjorie which I had
not heretofore understood. She was fire.
quently absent from her sisters house. She
was moody to sullenness at times and
then again warm hearted and gay.
Months went by, and the winter came
again. Before the others Marjorie and I
were as good friends as ever, but we were
never alone together again. Her eyes
seemed more melancholy than ever, and l
was thankful for my task of teaching Mrs.
Dunsforth's sons, and for the rest Of the
time l buried myself in study.
Spring came and with it another episode
in my life at Dunsforth mansion. This
time it was a rainy, chill spring day. The
weather had been oapricious for a week,
and on the evening in question l wa sit
ting alone by the fire in the library. My
pupils had gone to bed, Mrs. Dunsforth
was away on a visit to neighbors, and Mar
jorie had been absent for several days.
Suddenly the door opened, and there en-
tered with the gust Of chill wind a gaunt
looking stranger. He walked straight up
to the fire and held out his thin, trembling
hands without speaking or looking around.
For covaral ,nor,opts 7 was too parp1ayod
to speak. Was this an apparition, or was
it a man of real flesh and blood, though
he seemed to have but little of either. He
was scantily attired; his hair was di-
sheveled and quite black. The face was
ghostly white and the eyes dull and CLASSY.
There was an air of refinement about the
man, though, which caused me not to fear
him.
"You are cold" I said.
He turned and bent his eyes upon me.
"Who said 1 was coldP' he asked
abruptly.
81 did"
"Youp Well, what of itP Who makes 1t
cold? It's nice enough for anybody who
has not been out in a long time. What
makes you look at me soa Do you think
am crazy?"
riveted my eyes upon him. II didn't
say you were crazy. Sit down; let mt talk
to you"
II thought 90. You think I am mad.
/ have just broken out Of a madhouse.
Are you going to send me backP"
"You need not fear me. ! have nc cause
for sending you anywhere. Come, warm
yourself. You are no more crazy than ]
am"
A grateful glance came from the dull,
lusterless eyes, and after little ! persuad-
ed him to lie down on the lounge. Soon
he tainted away from the exertion Of the
long tramp he must have had, for the
nearest insane asylum was 30 miles away.
That much ! knew.
He remained Frustrated for a week In
the comfortable bed Of the guest chamber,
to which l had carried him on the night
of his arrival. Mrs. Dunsforth took as
much interest in the strange visitor as l
did, and now and then the boys came in
and laid flowers from the greenhouse on
his bed.
In a week from the night of his coming
to Dunsforth mansion he died. Marjorie
was absent while u strange guest was
sick. She returned on the evening before
we buried him. I heard her ON up to
her sisters room. The crazy man was ly-
ing in bis shroud in the room below. Aft
er awhile the two sisters came down and
went directly to the death chamber. I did
not see them again that night. I had
promised Mrs. Dunsforth that I would
keep the watch beside the corpse, and at
midnight ! began my vigil. No one was
in the room when I came in, and no one
disturbed my lonely hours. Just as the
night faded away into the gray dawn and
the purple clouds orept up the horizon the
door was softly opened to admit Marjorie.
Her face was swollen with weeping, and
her step was faltering as that Of n who
had not slept for many nights. She
walked slowly to the bier and gazed dis
tressedly at the face Of the silent sleeper.
Then she came over to me where l WAS
sitting near the CRATE, with Its fast dying
embers.
"My husband, John" she sobbed, point
Ing at the shrouded figure, gaunter and
whittier than any dead mar I had ever seen
In q moment / understood 1t all. She had
been married to a lunatic. This, then,
was the tragedy Of her life that bade hel
tell me that she could never be my wife.
Anguish at her spoiled, unhappy life filled
my soul. I kissed her hand as I would
have Kissed the hand Of a saint. She said
not q word to me beyond a tender THANK
you" for my sympathy. I arose and left
her with the dead. I knew that now the
obstacle to u union was removed; that
she would be mine in good time, for had
she not told me that she loved me!
While l am writing this story she is sit
ting beside me, q happy, blooming wife.
We waited q year, then slipped away one
day to be united forever. We are often at
Dunsforth mansion, where our romance
began, and my little charges are 9 fond
Of me as their "Uncle John" as they were