Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1899-08-24
FINALE.

FINALLY.
A philosopher onoe observed that q
man g character could be better judged
by the books and room he keeps than
his company.
Cyril Graves early in life had devoted
himself to the study Of politics, and all
his hopes and fears were conferred in
that ~engrossing pursuit. One Wednes-
day evening he was sitting smoking in
his chambers, deeply engrossed in a blue
book, when he heard a gentle knock on
his door.
"Come in" he shouted, thinking it
was his man, and again buried himself
in his book.
The door opened and shut quietly, and
he still read on, and then suddenly look
ed up. There, standing in a detected at
titude, was the wreck of what had been
a lovely woman. Graves sprang to his
feet, his face pale and stern, for, in
front Of him, was his justly divorced
wife.
"You, Bertha, here in my rooms!''
He moved over to the bell.
"Don't ring It," she walled. II
watched your servant go out and want
ed to speak to you, ah, SO badly"
"Now, look here, Bertha, you drag
ged my name in the dust, you nearly
ruined my career, and now, when you
have been justly punished, you come
back. What do you want-money?"
His tones were icy in their GOODNESS,
and the weak, degraded creature before
him shivered as she heard the last
words.
"Cyril-I've no right to come to you,
I know, but the world is SO cold and
wretched to a woman, and God alone
knows how low I've fallen. Cannot you
take me baok?" She sank into o chair
and began to cry silently.
"Take you baokl" he cried, his eyes
~glittering with fury, while with Uneven
strides he paced the room. "Take you
back and become the laughing stock of
London. What! Go and rusticate in
some dreary hole until you left me
again? You forget what you are"
The insult dashed fresh life and spirit
into the covering woman.
"And who made me what I ann" she
said, with her color rising, and her
breath coming and going rapidly.
shot l." he replied with a sneer.
eff not you, who did? When you first
met me at my fathers reotory, I was as
simple minded a girl al any in the land.
You made me marry you, did you not?"
Her tone was insistent.
"Well suppose I did," he answered
gloomily.
"You took me to q dull house in this
London town, and there you left me-.
Night after night you went to your po-
litioal meetings and to your house Of
commons and gave me what was left Of
your time. You fed me and clothed me,
it's true, and there it ended. You en-
couraged me to mix in society and never
troubled to protect mt as you should
have done, and then, when I left you,
more from heart sickness and from a
desire to be loved and petted by some
one than from any other cause, you d.
vorced mi and received the condolences
Of your friends. BAH You are the man
who is responsible for my ruin, and you
only. Money I scorn your money, and
never until I die will I trouble you
again"
She left the Don abruptly, leaving
Graves a prey to the most conflicting
emotions. Her indictment was, he felt,
only too true, and a feeling Of shame
came over him.
He unlocked his safe and took out his
will and read it slowly through, then
took a sheet Of paper and wrote rapidly
and replaced both in the safe.
"Therel" he said. II shall never
marry again, and if I die before her
who knows?-it may make a difference if
she has the control of money. If I could
only have my time over againl'
The great debate was over, and Cyril
Graves was it's hero. Secure in the self
reliance that a thorough knowledge Of
his subject gives its possessor, he had
held the house spellbound for over an
hour and sat down amid a chorus Of APP
proving cheers. In the lobby his friends
crowded around him with hearty con.
gratulations, and already in his minds
eye he saw that his days as an obscure
private member were over. The larger
life Of a leader Of men, with all its
brilliant possibilities, seemed to lie open
before him, and he gloried in 1t.
Toquiet down his overstrained nerves
he took his hat and coat, and although
it was long past midnight made his way
to the embankment, q favorite walk Of
his when engaged in deep thought.
There was a full moon, and the night
was very still, and, lost in r~everie, he
leaned over the balustrade and gazed
idly upon the glistening, silvery river
below him.
The utter peace and quietude of the
scene soothed him, and he was Just
about to leave when q heavy hand was
laid upon his shoulder.
Don't do it, air. Just think over
it." was muttered in his ear.
he turned sharply and found q police.
man looking at him with commisera.
tim.
GOOD God, constable. you don't
think I'm going to Jump In the river,
do you? Man alive, can't any one walk
on the embankmens without doing
that?''