The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1904-09-06


out the errors of the old one.
In fewer words, he had abandoned
her and her child forever.
Daphne bore the blow with a quiet
ess that, for a girl Of her age and
temperament, BODIED no quick recov-
cry. Amid the tumult Of thoughts
that thronged her brain, the one, per-
haps, which stood forth the clearest-
the impossibility of her, Daphne Chess
ter, having done with happiness. Nine
teen years old and the sun shining
into the hearts of springs first roses,
the birds chanting up and down the
lanes-there was, literally, as yet mo
place in the existing fabric Of her
thoughts for the realization of her
own despair. 1t needed time-time,
whom the superficial name Healerl
the slow engraver and perpetuator of
grief in human hearts--to teach her to
be wretched. The initiation over, the
A, B, 9 of suffering mastered, she was
no inapt or laggard scholar for the
future.
In marrying Barry Chester she had
invested her all-or she believed SO;
and are not our beliefs the sternest
facts we know? In losing him, her
docket was struck. She was bank
rupt.
Aunt Hosie, with love-born keenness
of insight, saw that the poor child's
wound was likely to fare best If left to
Natures curing, and when they were
alone together-by alone mean, OF
course, with little Paul-the name Of
Barry Chester dropped gradually into
disuse. But Miss Theodore, with sur
face neutrality-suspicious. for the
crying outward disgrace, not for the
stifed inward groan-was far from
approving or practicing such reticence
Theodore was all for heroic treatment
In the moral ailments Of others, the
blacksmith's hand Of iron rather than
the surgeons hand of steel. Theodore.
during Daphne's illness, had exercised
her conscience by writing a kind Of
circular letter to such of Mr.. Chester's
relations as she had knowledge Of Qn-
Guiding, rather believe, the War
wickshire Stamers), and had accumu-
lated facts that she considered it a
sacred duty to lay before the girl in
her hour Of darkness. Facts that
will at least show you. child, what
kind Of man you waste your regrets
upon.''
Barry Chester comes Of doomed
STOCK" So, in an upright feminine
hand, wrote one Of Miss Theodora's
unknown correspondents, a Chester
herself by marriage. smarting, posi-
bly,, under wrongs that infused gall
into her ink. Ellis father was worth
less, his grandfather worthless. The
boy was born, as every Chester must
be, to hopeless Inheritance of evil.
Although / do not know Mrs. Barry
Chester" the writer ended, II tell her
honestly that congratulate her on
her good fortune in having seen her
husband for the last time. From faith
er to son the Chesters have brought
shame and desolation to the heart of
every woman who has loved them. It
will be SO to the end
Facts with a vengeance, these.
Facts. each of whose written syllables
seems to Daphne's soul to look up at
her with cruel human eyes, and whose
influence sank, like the stain Of some
dark poison flower, through all the
yet unopened pages of her young life.
Born to hopeless Inheritance of
evil" even as the babe, just begin
ming to smile up in her face, must be!
She felt herself, and, what was dearer
than herself. the child, to be in the
grasp of memorable law, marked-out
victims of necessity. If she had grad
uated in the very newest school of
scientific Calvinism, had listened to
the last high teaching Of Bile, Phos-
phorus and Despair, her morbid sense
Of slavery to circumstance could
scarce have been profounder. And the
other worldly utterances Of pious
friends powerless, like all seemly
phrases signifying nothing, against
the shock Of any great crisis-the job
like consultations of the elder Miss YAM
sittarts, everything save the influence
Of Aunt Hostess healthy. upward-look-
ing spirit, tended to sink her more
helplessly in the slough Of fatalism;
the most dreary creed, however
learned, however formulated, that
ever served to render human life un-
sweet.
The roses opened, fell from their
stalks; then rang harvest songs as
heart whole, then shone harvest moons
as silver, as of old. And then the
woods faded from red to dun, the chill
November rains began to sweep up
from the Atlantic; and Daphne, wan
dering alone under the gray skies by
the stormy shore, realized that her
winter had set in In the blossom of
ner youth she stood in an empty world.
the plaything Of blind destiny
through the very affections which were
as the fibres and life blood Of her be-
ing.
Had Chester lived, her unhappiness,
however acute, must, with the prog
ress Of time, have become checkered.
Barry Chester, living, must infailibly
have wanted money, infalIibly have
fallen back upon the Miss vansittarts
for help; and Daphne. thirsting to for
give on any terms, would. you may be
sure. have relented over the very first
letter that implied reconciliation and
asked for sovereigns.
But no such opportunity came to her.
Within a year of their separation
Mr.. Chester died, miserably as he had