El Paso daily herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1881-1901, 1899-07-15
Confined from last Saturday.
CHAPTER XVI.

CdAH1hh AVA.
One cold gusty evening in October,
seven years after the pen had fallen
from Paul Dennys' hand, two women,
wearing the garb of the good Sisters
of Nazareth, wendell their way across
the little country churchyard Of Col
worth and stood silently before white
marble cross bearing the following in
scription-
SACRED to the memory of Helen,
the beloved wife of Paul Dennys of
Colworth, who died 22nd of July, 1877,
aged 49,
ct stood a few yards away from the
huge stone monument under which
generations of Dennyses slept, the
reeds and rushes from the river, flow
ing close by, rustling mournfully
around it, making the spot SO dismal
and ghostly that the elder sister,
woman Of a vigorous and unimagin-
alive disposition, shuddered involun-
tarily and exclaimed half-pettishly to
her silent companion
"Well, sister, is our journey at an
end? Is this the spot we have travelled
over two hundred miles to visit?"
Yes. 1 wanted to know If this
Helen Dennys was buried here, and 1
find she is. 1 am ready to go back now,
Sister Agatha, when you WISH She
stopped to pick spray of ivy grow
ing round the cross, held it In her hand
irresolutely for a moment, then flung
it into the river and moved heavily
away.
No: wait moment and rest YOUR
self-you look quite exhausted Don't
sit on the grass, child; do you wish to
get your death Of cold? Sit here on
the slab beside me-" cried Sister
Agatha, laying a motherly hand ON her
companions shoulder.
She obeyed, tossing back her heavs
Grape veil, and lifted a wan listless
face to the low murky sky.
Poor Helen!" she sighed presently.
with a weak laugh. They haven t
given her very dry bed, have they?
They might have moved her a little
farther, even though it were only her
memory Wondering there
Sister Agatha made no reply, but
read aloud the inscription, comment
ing softly, aged ninteen. That was
young to bid good-by to earthly hap
pineEs. Was this Helen a relation
any one you loved-Sister Clothilde?"
Il knew her all her life; though she
died young in years, she was old in
sorrow"
And yet she was beloVed?"
SO the stone says-so the stone
lays. Oh, sister, sister, burst out the
young nun, with a sudden, bitter cry,
of all the lies, uttered or recorded
in this world of lies, there are none
none. say-so shameful, so bare
haf ho
yards of our land!"
Hush, hush, my dear sister!" re-
proved the elder, in a shocked voice.
Pray, pray compose yourself-you do
not know what you are saying; how
unbecoming-"
Let me speak, let me speak now.
1t will do me good, and 1 will be silent
after that for the rest of my life! Let
me tell you the story of the beloved
wife who lies here; it will do me good"
Very well, my dear. if it will ease
your mind, 1 will listen,'' she answered
soothingly, looking at her companion
with keen anxious glance.
Its not a long story, and a COM
mon-place one enough. She-that
Helen-lived up in the red house the
chimneys of which you can see smok-
ing among the trees, and she believed
herself beloved as that cross asserts
she was; but in a very short time she
found out her mistake-found out her
husband had only married her out of
pique and isappointment-that he
loved another woman fairer than she.
Her rival came to stay in the house
with her; the wife was tried, tortured.
maddened to despair, and one day she
disappeared from her home, leaving a
letter saying she had gone never to
return. No trace was found Of her,
but after a few days sufficient evil
dence was had to lead her husband to
believe that she had been drowned in
that river flowing there under the wall,
and her body ground to pieces in some
mill machinery half a mile further
down"
What a horrible story Poor soul
poor soul! Was it proved to be acct
dental or-or otherwise?"
That no one will know until the day
all things will be made known. They
have not judged her harshIy here; let
not US do otherwise"
And the husband, sister,"
He-the story says-went raving
about the country seeking her, at first,
as II he had lost the treasure of his
life, and, five months after her death,
married her rival"
Five months?'
Five month. They live very happily
.3gether now surrounded with their
children. That's the whole story, and
it ends in the orthodox style with a
Happy marriage, you see. Now let us
go, or we shall miss our train"
With glance toward the chimneys,
Sister Agatha put her arm within her
companions, and they walked quickly
and silently through the long wet