Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1900-07-29

missed.
heaven! too late already! She wal
/ in the wood, close. He started for
ward from the tree, reeled, and flung
his hands out blindly-t0 be caughi
and held In clasp to which In that
moment the woman's love surely gave
almost masculine strength, to which
he chung in a kind of desperation
Glare, o Clare!"
Eyes, come to your help in all
ways she answered, steadily. 'Pui
/ your hand on my shoulder. lean on me-
and we shall soon reach our quarters
!, Come"
He obeyed her without word OF
remonstrance or objection. He was
past that, and could only bear up as
best he might whilst they made their
way out of the copse to the west gar
| den, and so across to the terrace and
the room it seemed dreary years ago
that he had left for that terrible as
signation. AS they came into the blaze
of light and paused by his sofa, Clare
was startled even to shock by the
CHASTITY Magazines of the face he
SUDDENLY turned full to her.
What did you see or hear?" he
said, hoarsely. What do you know
81 heard the voice, it guided me to
you. l saw her leave you as I drew
near. 1 know who it was; l could not
help knowing"
He flung himself on the couch and
buried his face in the cushions with a
deep smothered sob of terrible agony
an utter breakdown at last of the long,
terrible overstrain and exhaustion.
"Oh, the horror and shame of it all,''
came at last, with such passionate an
guish that Clare, kneeling by him, was
held breathleSs, dared not for a mo-
ment even trust herself to touch the
convulsively clenched hands or strick-
en- head she SO loved, whose suffering
was here thousand-fold. 1.-THE mad
folly and misery of it, fettered for life
to a living curse! My God! that 1
were deadl"
That cry of despair gave the woman
back her strength for his sake.
Hush! Don't! dont!" she said,
though the choking sob in her threat
would not be quite crushed, nor the
heavy throbs of the poor torn heart be
stilled. There is not, cannot be,
shame and dishonor on you, who are
the soul of honor!"
Wilfred half lifted his face, the red
blood sweeping over the dusky cheek,
then dropped it again, too spent for
passionate emotion.
''Honori" came low and brokenly.
"Ah, but you don't yet know the
worst; the writer of that letter of this
morning. the woman l met, so changed
that l had never recognized her, had
crushed honor under foot before l ever
met her; and-great Heavens. Ibis
hand closed convulsively on Clare's-
Il only knew it three hours toe late
that woman is-my wife!"
Only few broken sentences, wrung
from mans strong agony, but behind
them lay a life's tragedy, whole world
of unspeakable desolation and wreck.
Not word, not sound passed Clare
Saviles ashen lips as she knelt, motion
less, like one stunned NY sudden, aw-
full crash around them both; and yet
through all with dim and darkened
sense that something of this had been
dread background in her very soul
from the first hour she had known
there was some miserable secret in
Wilfred Erlston's life. The passion
ate blood she would have shed for him,
drop by drop, seemed curdling like ice
about her heart-creeping, still as
death, through her veins. His wife!-
that woman: low-born, low-bred
coarse, Impossible! She could never
surely, have been so different, even in
youth. There must be some terrible
mistake on his side of which the
American adventures had taken ad-
vantage; and yet-yet-could he have
been so deceived as TO recognize as
true false claim to identity?
Then with sudden, resistless i'm
pulse, she stopped lower, and laid her
soft lips to the hand that chung still
to hers, and the mere contact sent the
life-blood back to her heart, strong TO
self-mastery again for his sake. How
should she dream that that kiss thrill
ed his very soul with ecstacy and al
most unbearable agony; that for one
second there was a fierce conflict in
the mans breaking heart between love
and honor, but the very love was so
loyal, the honor so undimmed, and the
passionate words that had leaped up
died down unspoken as she looked up;
instead, he whispered:
my sweet. comforter, mine own ia
miliar friend; who will never change
nor fail"
Never, before Heaven. Wilfred,"
Clare answered, fervently, dropping