The Grit-advocate., 1904-11-11
HAnAnonyn1ousFoe
, YaKaY a. r. =. q.
8~ T. a. q.

| Grace in tears, he would never offer
a word of sympathy.
| The end came just about fortnight
| before this night when Richard Tre-
| coming was striding along in restless
anxiety and bitterness. His anony-
nous correspondent had explicitly as
| serted that Grace Sylvester had boast
ed of her conquest, and had boldly
declared that she should accept him
| because he was a good "catch," and
because it would be IA good thing for
her boy" Nay, she had even said
that she did not care for him. Let him
tax her with her crime if he doubted
it!
And he did tax her. His wrath
overwhelmed her.
Ibid you marry me simply to get
home for your boy? Was our we'd
ding loveless marriage on your part?
Was your VOW lie and fraud? Were
you faithless in heart, if not in fact?"
Out rushed the questions, leaving
the poor woman spcechless, powerless
to quell his rage. Then her tears fell
as the indignat man proceeded to still
further interrogatc her. The pent-up
suspicion of weeks had now cruel
expression impaired to it.
In her emotion she had admitted
that when she accepted him she first
thought of securing home for her
boy, and he had accepted this admis-
sion as Il justification Of all the sinister
accusations. At all events he had
rushed violently from the house.
The man still strobe up and down
this unfrequcntcd green lane. At last
he entered a field in which he and
Grace had otter wandered, and flung
himself on the turf. 1t was Il close
summer evening, and while he was
communing with himself-half ap-
plauding, half upbraiding-he fell
asleep. His very emotion had ex-
hausted him.
''You know, my dear Mrs. Tregon-
ming, you have all my sympathy.
cannot tell you how l deplore the un-
fortunate business. l had not believed
that Mr.. Tregonning could have be-
ulNe eu VIII SUCH cdlIOuSutSS.
Richard Tregonnng awoke with
start as these words fell on his ear.
For the moment his faculties, not yet
quite under control, he ina agined he
was dreaming. He wondered how his
wife could be there. but instantly re-
called the fact that he was near her
fathers house. But who could be
talking to her thus-in tones he in
stinctively felt to be untrue?
"Of course, my dear, when you mar
ried Richard Tregonning, l only
thought you did 1t because he was
able to provide good home for your
boy-because he was q good catch"
Good heavens! this was the very
language Of his letters: Was he now
about to receive confirmation of all
his harsh fears and doubts? He re-
mained in his PROSTATE position, intent
on every word.
A moan, all the more painful be-
cause of the effort to suppress it-a
moan of anguish-had escaped his
wife.
"Of course went on her companion,
you remember that you contided to
me that, though you respected him, you
did not love him. You We're in doubt
as to whether you should accept him.
Indeed, thought you cared more for
Malcolm Barrett"
Another moan fell on the ears of the
distraught man. Why should his Wife
be tortured thus? Resentment pos
sessed him even as he thought of his
own fancied wrongs. And who was
this woman? Why, it must be Helen
Gilbert-Helen Gilbert, whom his
father once wished him to marry, and
who told him that her own uncle had
already hinted that he would look with
favor on the match: Helen Gilbert, to
whom for a while, knowing his fathers
desire, he had paid considerable at
tention. Her accents did not now ring
true-they We're cold, rather than
warm, pitilesS, rather than sympa-
thetic. How strangely she was cor
roborating his anonymous correspond
cnce!
However" pursued Miss Gilbert,
barbing her cibe. 81 do not see why
you should be so cast down and hurt.
He has provided for you and your boy.
What more could you want? That,
dear. was all you sought"'
"Strange,' again thought Richard
Tregonning, "how faithful Helen Gil