Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1899-06-14

wishes, longlngs and prayers nad peen
heard and answered. She was free, she
was white slave no longer, she would
never again realize with thrill of
shuddering horror that she had sold her.
self into bondage into the worst and
most hateful kind of bondage, that she
had sold not only herself, her body, but,
to all intents and purposes, her very
soul. Well, it was all over now. She
was herself again, accountable to no one
for her actions, she was free of that
unbearable chain, of that hated union.
The worldly dross for which she had
sacrificed herself had fallen away like
The links Of the chain of fate, and she
you'd have to begin at the lowest rung
Of the ladder again.
Still she would be content. Every
crust of bread that she earned would be
her own, and sweet would be the taste
thereof would be better. far better
to sweep crossing and to live content
eddy on the pence earned by sweeping it
we'll. than to live in luxury earned by
the loss Of all her womanly self respect.
There came to her mind more times
than once verse ont of the Great Book
Better dinner of herbs where love
is than a stalled OK and hatred there
with.
How true, how truel And yet the
poor soul above struggling with the
rapids of life and death had never seen
the beauty of the dinner of herbs. She
had longed to be as the stalled OF, be-
lieving that the smoothest pathways
must always be the most pleasant and
the best for us. Well, she had enjoyed
her brief spell of the stalled OK to the
full, and it was probable that she would
slip away over the great barrier with
out ever knowing that there had been
hatred at all. And if that should be so,
Mary Conway felt that she would be
able to face all the rest of hef life fear
lessly and with thankful spirit.
Late in the evening messenger ar
rived bringing letter by hand from
Mr.. Lawson.
DEAR MRs. CoNwAY-it said-I do not ask,
| do not seek to know, the reason that your hus-
| band left 80 strange and almost inhuman Q
| will behind him. It is enough for me that you
4 are woman, alOue, young duu III bIOuUlt.
| will you accept the inclosed as gift from one
/ who knew your husband for many years and
| who liked and respected him9 1 beg you to
accept 1t as kindly as 1t Is offered to you. Sin
cerely yours, HENRY LAWSON.
Inclosed with this letter was a check
for e1O0.
It would be hard to describe Mary
feelings that night. The kindness, the
distant dignity Of the few words. inn
pressed her deeply. She never thought
of refusing the kindly gift, SO welcome
to save her from unheard of horrors. She
only longed fiercely and passionately
that she might, nay could, would, go
and tell this man everything, tell him
the whole story Of her marriage and the
cause pure and simple why Captain
Conway had left cruel and wholly I'M
Just will behind him. sinister blow to
strike her in vulnerable part and
from which she had no chance of de.
Tending herself.
She went to her bed that night with
fixed intention Of going in the morning
to seek out Mr.. Lawson and to tell him
everything, with a determination that
she would Justify herself in his eyes.
But morning brought different feel.
ings. In the early dawn a change 70,
the worse came over Mrs. Hamilton,
and the nurse called Mary from her bed,
believing that the end was nigh at hand
And as she stood by the side of tina,
poor, Pickering, feeble light, so soon te
burn out into nothingness SO far a.
concerned this world, a'voice came Il
her telling her to do nothing. to ga,
nothing-the voice Of q strange, curl
GUS, wise instinct, which said; "Yol
are free. Don't fetter your freedom b.
troubling about the past. With good in
tentions you did what you thought ant
believed was for the best The sacrifice
was made, served its purpose, and yo1
are released. Do nothing. Accept tn
kindness of this stranger, take it as it i
offered and endure all in silence. At tn
very worst his suspicion, if he has one
is only suspicion. No good can com
to you by blackening the memory Of
dead man. II You speak, you will bu
save your fair fame at the expense o
his. II he has been ungenerous to you
SO spiteful as to aim blow at you iron
his sailors grave, do not you retaliat
by striking back at him now. Best, ia
best to suffer in silence; wisest, ia
wisest, to cut yourself off as completed,
as may be from the mistaken past, t
begin life afresh on your own lines an
as free as is possible from the influence
which have dominated you,5 hurt 20,
and poisoned your better self hereto
fore.
Mary Conway knew that her instinc
was wise one, that the strange myste
rious voice was that of friend in tn
best sense of the word. She made u
her mind during those few terribl
hours Of watching that she would folio,
the advice which had come to her frol
= her inner self, that she would bury th
: past and begin new life with the da
that she turned her back upon the hon
Of her brief married life, the hous
which had been in no sense home
her.
And the following day Henry Lawso
, received this note:
THANK you with all my heart for your kir
ana generous Sht. UWu Do saivatlon al
will enable me to start myself afresh. q
r quite alone In the world now. My mother di,
ct 8 O'Clock this afternoon. Yours with de,
gratitude. MARY CONWAY.
9 CHAPTER VII.
LIFE ON NEW LINES.
Q As soon as she could be quietly an
decently laid away, Mrs. Hamilton WI
= carried out Of the pretty villa in whie
q she had enjoyed her brief spell of pro
J perity, and then Mary made her prep
y rations for turning her back upon h.
J. old life forever.
eel or. xx,o. ,,ot obI;rad 20 lo,,o ~