The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1905-05-13

any other woman he had ever met,
for his wife had never attracted him
or appealed to the intellectual side
Of his nature as Mrs. Granville did,
and, alas, he knew now that the.
! feeling he had had for his wife was
but purely physical passion born
of her beauty. She could never have
held his mind. She was too shallow,
too vain.
After that conversation with Lady
Grahame Walton's eyes were opened
to the true state of his feelings for
Mrs. Grenville, but as yet he gave
her no hint. First he must tell her
his story, yet he shrank from the
idea of laying bare the shameful
past before that pure soul.
It was a couple of evenings later.
Walton and his companion leaned
side by side over the, rail and talked
in a fragmentary manner, but there
was an information in his voice, a
tenderness in his gray eyes, that
made her heart beat and stirred her
pulses strangely. One little hand
lay near his, and suddenly his closed
on it, and he raised it to his lips and
kissed it passionately.
3'My darling he whispered,
"Violet, l love you. Will you be my
wife? Speak to me, darling. Tell
me have not hoped in vain"
For a moment, as he put his arm
round her and drew her to him, she
yielded to his embrace; then she
hurriedly drew herself away.
"Wait until tomorrow" she MUIR
INJURED. I'll will tell you then if
you still care to hear"
s:Care to hear!" he cried passion
ately. "Child, don't you guess how
much / love you?"
But with sad little smile she fit
ted from his side and was lost in the
shadows Of the deck.
Punctually at 5 o'clock the next
day Mrs. Grenyille appeared on deck,
looking very lovely in her white
dress, though her face was pale and
heavy shadows rested under the
gray blue eyes. Walton, to whom
her coming was as glimpse of para
disc, hurried forward to meet her,
and he carried her deck chair to a
secluded corner, shaded from the
glare of the afternoon sun, which
was now creeping to its rest.
"Well, Violet, which is it to be ?"
he whispered. SYou don't know
what fortunes Of Impotence and I'M
certainty have suffered since last
night. Is it to be-yes - And he
tried to read his answer in her avert
ed eyes.
"Wait," she murmured family.
s1-I have something to tell you be-
fore I give you my answer-some-
thing that you ought to know. If
after-you still care, I-will-say
yes"
sMy darling" he cried, 'sViolet,
only say you love me little, and l
don't care for anything else!'
Yes, II do care for you," she
whispered, more than | thought I
could care for any one. I feel | can
trust you, lean on you, respect you,
and you do not know what all that
means to a woman who has suffered
as l have and has had every Illusion
Stripped from her, Listen, and /
will tell you my story. To begin
with, l am not a widow, as you
thought, and my name is not Gren-
vile. It was my mothers name,
and / took it when I dropped my
own, after-after / was divorced. /
divorced my husband nearly two
years ago now. We had only been
married a short time, and / was i'll,
when he went abroad and met there
a married woman who, suppose, at
tracted him. But, to cut the story
short, he-he finally ran away with
her to Paris after her husband had
been ordered out to South Africa.
She was a Mrs. Walton-oddly
enough, a namesake Of yours"
Walton had turned liyid. ssGood
Godp' he cried hoarsely. sMy
wife,"
ssYour wife, echoed his compan-
ion. S'Then-then YOU And she
sank back in her chair pale and
trembling.
ssYes," he answered thickly, ssmy
wife Twas the husband of that
wretched woman
ssThen it was not coincidence,
as I thought it was, your name be-
ing the same? I never dreamed OF
this, she murmured brokenly.
Walton rose and leaned over the
rail, turning his feverish brow to
the desert, where a little breeze was
blowing from the mountains. His