The Donaldsonville chief., 1906-08-25

/ He told himself now, that it was
hard for a man Of 35, in the full flush
| of health and the prime of manly
yigor, to be doomed to perpetual
| widowerhood But, after months of
| dalliance, his moral consciousness
/ had awakened from its long slumber,
| and he had resolved to end his rela-
| tions with Marie Jokaiil at all costs.
| Something of his thoughts, per
| haps, she read in his gloomy coun-
tenance when he met her-for the
last time, as he told himself: for she
startled him with the question, put
in her gentle yet wonderfully direct
way:
When are we to b. married, Hen
| ry?"
why, my dear child, of course you
must know that that is impossible"
Impossible, my Henry? How can
it be impossible? Are we not low
| ers?"
why, yes, Marie-we have been.
But you know everything comes to
| an end some time. We have been
| very happy. But the time has come
when we shall have to go our own.
separate ways. You are making a
/ lot of money. In a little while you
will go back to your own country
| and marry the sweetheart Of your
| childhood
| What is it that makes marriage
impossible in this country, my Hen
by? There can be only one thing
that a man is married already?"
"Yes-something OF that kind, my
dear. But I must be going. Good
by
He stopped and kissed her-for the
last time. as he told himself.
"You will feel differently about it
by and bye. Marie" he said, as he
went out.
At the same hour on the following
afternoon he was sitting In his Office,
working hard on brief. He had
never felt SO much like work since
meeting Marie that first night. She
had unsettled him.
The door opened and a woman en-
tered. She closed the door, crossed
the room and laid her hand on his
shoulder before he became aware OF
her presence.
What! You, Marie!" he exclaimed.
How did you find me?"
| "Oh, it was not difficult to find out
your real name, Mr. Tremaine. There
are not many men SO tall and hand
some as you in this cfty-that is, gen
| tlemen. Have you changed your
mind, Henry, since yesterday"
why, no. 1t is not question of
changing my mind. I told you the
| thing was impossible"
You have wife, Mr. Tremaine ?"
I IT have"
But we can fly from her We can
go to my home. It is beautiful
country You will be welcomed by
nice people. l was no pauper immi-
grant when | came to America. We
can be very happy there. VIII you
go?'
He wavered, but only for the frac-
ton of a second.
NO" he said, firmly. "You do not
understand, Marie. My wife is an
invalid. She is dependent upon me
for everything. cannot desert her.
| am not that particular kind OF
coward"
"Oh, no-Mr Tremaine is not a
coward. He is gentleman. OF
course, he could desert Marie Jokaiil.
But she is only foreigner. That is
different. You have what you call
insurance? # you should die, instead
Of running away, madame would not
be left-What you call destitute?"
"Oh. no! have provided for that"
"Ah! that is good. And you are
not a coward, Mr.. Tremaine. Well,
you shall drink the contents of this
vial; and | will take the little bottle
away with me when I go. Nobody
will ever know what has happened.
| 1t will save any scandal. The doctors
will not be able to say you were poi
soned. They will call it heart fail,
ure. It is a good name. Madame
will get the insurance; and all will
be we'll Perhaps, tonight, may
drink out of such a vial, too. Or,
perhaps, after time, I may go back
to my own country, and marry the
sweetheart of my childhood. don't
know. But Mr.. Tremaine will drink
this. He is not a coward. He would
not compel woman to use violence
and get into the prison and the news
papers. No. Mr.. Tremaine, you will
drink of this liquid like a gentle
man."
She held it out to him with her left
hand In her right was revolver.
Tremaine looked into her eyes for
moment, searching them for a sign
Of the old longing, trusting look. But
he read nothing but a stern, unyield-
ing resolve. He took the vial from
her hand and raised it to his lips.
A moment later, with the little
bottle, empty, hid in her bosom, Ma
rie Jokaiil glided from the room,
noiselessly as she had entered.
Copyright, 1906, BY Daily story Pub. Coz