Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1908-10-30

word 'WidoWer' after my ma me-
Thank God you did not sign your
! name to a lie." said Mildred. with q sigh
Of relief.
II am sorry my wife of fourteen years
should think me capable of falsehood on
the document that sealed my fate with
hers
''Oh, George, / know how true you are
how true aud upright you have been
in every word aud act of your life since
we two havc been one. II is not in my
~uatt,iFf ia m~isjudge YOU. I cannot think
YOU capable of wrongdoing to any one I'M
der strongest temptation. l cannot be-
lieyc that Fate could set such II snare
for you as could cntrap you into one dis
honorable, act but ! am tortured by the
thought Of n past life of which ] know
nothing. Why did you hide your mar
riugc from me when we were lovers? Why
are you silent and secret low, when | am
your wife. the other half Of yourself,
ready to sympathize with you, TO share
the burden Of dark memories! Trust me,
George. Trust me, dear love, and let US
be again as we have been, united in every
thought
You do not know what you are ask
ing me, Mildred" said George Greswold,
in his deep, grave voice. looking at her
with haggard, reproachful eyes. You
cannot measure the torture you are i'll
iicting by this aimlcss curiosity
you cannot measure the agony Of
doubt which | have suffered since | knew
that you loved another woman before
you loved me-loved me so well that you
cannot bear even to speak of that past
life which you lived with hcr-rcgret her
SO intensely thar now, after fourteen years
of welded life with me, the mere memory
of that lost love can plunge you into
gloom and despair" said Mildred passion
ately.
That smothered fire Of jealousy which
had been Smouldering in her breast for
weeks broke out all ut once i'll impetuous
speech. She no longer cared what she
said. Her only thought was that he dead
love had been dearer than the living. that
she had been cozened by a lover whose
heart had never been wholly hers.
you are very cruel, Mildred her hus-
band answered quietly. You are prob
ing an old wound, and a deep one, to the
quick. You wrong yourself more h
You wrong me by causeiess jealousy and
unworthy doubts. Yes, l did conceal she
fact of my first marriagc-not beccES;s /
had loved my wife too well, because ( IT'D
not loved her well enough. | wnA DIRT
about a period of my life which wGJ ecle
Of intense misery-which it was my s,ifsy
to myself to forget, if it were possAasl %
forgct--which it was ~pcrilous to refseesssss>
Der. My only chance of happinex,--Nr
peace of mind-lay in oblivion Of tAlt
bitter time. 1t was only when / loved
you that I began TO believe f~orgetfulness
was possible. courted oblivion by every
means in my power. | told myself that
the man who had 80 suffered was n man
who had ceased to exist. George Ran
some was dead. George Greswold stood
on the threshold of a new life, with in
finite capacities for happiness. / old
myself 2that | might be q beloved and
honored hushand-which l had never been
IA useful member of society-which |
had not been hitherto. Until that hour
all things had been against me. With
you for my wife all things would be in
my favor. For thirteen happy years this
promise of our marriage morning was
fully realized; then came our child's
death and now comes your estrange-
ment."
II am not estranged. George. 1t is
only my dread of the beginning OF es-
arrangement which tortures me. Since that
man spoke of your first wife. l have
brooded perpetually upon that hidden
past. 1t is weak, | know. to have lone
so. ! ought to trust unauestioningly
but / cannot. | cannot. love you too
well without jealousy"
''Well, let the veil be lifted then. since
it must be so. Ask what questions you
please, and | will answer tlem-as best
l can"
"You are very good" she faltered, draw
ing a little nearer to him. leaning her
head against his shoulder as she talked
to him, and laying her hand on his as it
lay before him IN the desk. tightly clench-
ed. Tell me, dear, were you happy with
your first wife,"
II was not"
"Not even in the beginning"
Hardly in the beginning. 1t was an
~ill-advised union. the result of impulse
"But she loved you very dearly, per-
haps."
..She loved me-dearly after her man
ner of loving"
and you did not love her? Z"
ut is a cruel thing you force me to
say. Mildred. No, did not love her"
Had you been married long when she
diedg''
She felt a quivering movement in the
clenchcd hand on which her own lay ca
r~essingiy, and she heard him draw q long
and deep breath.
about a year"
sIIer death was A sad one. I know.
Did she go out of her mind before she
died?'
"No.'
"Dia she leave you or do you any
great wrong"
No"
Were you false to her. Gcorge-oh,
forgive me. forgive me--but there must
have been something more sad than com
mon sadness. and might be that some new
and fatal love-
..,There was no such thing he an
swered sternly. Il was true to my duties
as a husband. 1t was not a long trial
only = senr.
II see You will not confide in me. l
will ask no more questions, George. h
kind OF catechism will not make us more
in sympathy with each other l will ask
you nothing more-except-iust one CUES
ten weRiaa's question. Was your first
wife beautiful in your eyes?"
She was not beautiful: but she was
intellectual, and she had al interesting
countcnance-a face that attracted me at
FIRST sight. 1t was even more attractive
49, ~ ---.H- -,