The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1899-05-09
copyright. 1850. by the Author. ]

Copyright. 1SS9. by the Author.l
At last she was left alone, alone to
think over the end to which her fine
marriage had brought her, TO think that
here she was in house which she had
thought her own, but which had been
left away from her to one whom her
husband had always professed to hate
fercely, penniless except for the few
pounds which she happened to have
drawn out of the bank before the news
Of the laundering Of the Arikhama had
reached them. Well, she had wished,
longed, prayed, to be free, and her
wishes, longings and prayers had been
heard and answered. She was free, she
was white slave no longer, she would
never again realize with a 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, hut,
to all intents and purposes, her very
sonl. 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
ahe links Of the chain Of fate, and she
would 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-it 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 out Of the Great Book
-"Bstter dinner Of herbs where love
Is than stalled OK and hatred there.
with"
How true, how true! 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 OK, 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 co.
Mary Conway felt that she would be
able to face all the rest of her life fear
lessly and with thankful spirit.
Late in the evening messenger ar
rived bringing \ letter by hand from
Mr.. Lawson.
DEAR MRS. CoSwAY-it said-I do not ask,
do not seek TO know, the reason that your hus-
band left so strange and almost inhuman
will behind him. II is enough for me that you
are woman. alone, young and In trouble.
Will you accept the Enclosed az gift from ono
who knew your husband for many years and
who liked and respected him7 | beg you to
accept it az kindly as it is offered to you. Sin
nerely yours HENRY LAWSON.
Enclosed with this letter was check
Tor G100.
1t would be hard to describe Mary's
feelings that night. The kindness the
Instant dignity of the few words, i'm
pressed her deeply. She never thought
# refusing the kindly gift, SO welcome
10 save her from unheard Of horrors. She
,nly longed fercely and passiopately
hat she might, nay could, would, go
md tell this man everything tell him
he whole story Of her marriage and the
ause pure and simple why Captain
conway had left cruel and wholly I'M
ust will behind him, sinister blow to
trike her in vulnerable part and
rom which she had no chance of de-
ending herself ..slr
She went to her bed that night with
fixed intention Of going in the morning
o seek out Mr.. Lawson and to tell him
with a determination that
he would justify herself in his eyes.
But morning brought different feel
ngs. In the early dawn change for
be worse came over Mrs. Hamilton,
nd the nurse called Mary from her bed,
Chewing that the end was nigh at hand
md as she stood by the side of that
COR, Pickering, feeble light, so soon to
urn out into nothingness so far as
this world voice came to
er telling her to do nothing, to say
othing-tbe voice of u strange, curl
us, wise instinct, which said "You
10 free. Don fetter your freedom by
oubling about the past. With good in
'ntions you did what You thought and
elieved was for the best. The sacrifice
as made served its purpose, and you
e released. Do nothing Accept the
ndness Of this stranger take it as it is
fered and endure all in silence. AT the
Try worst his suspicion, if he has one,
only suspicion. No good can come
you by blackening the memory of a .
'ad man. If you speak, you will but s
We your fair fame at the expense of I
$. If he has been ungenerous to you, l
spiteful as to aim blow at you from t
$ sailors grave, do not you retaliate t
striking back at him now. Best far J.
st, to suffer in silence; wisest, far d
sest, to cut yourself off as completely c
may be from the mistaken past, to r
gin life afresh on your own lines and b
free as is possible from the influences t.
,ich have dominated you, hurt you v
d poisoned your better self hereto v
.e.' n
Mary Conway knew that her instinct v
Is wise one, that the strange myste-