The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1912-09-07

alone. They had fascinated ner,
They were letters from some other
man to this mans wife. They were
signed by an initial only and the iden-
tity Of the writer was quite unknown
to her. The Woman's replies were
not with the others, but it was easy
enough to see what those replies had
been. All the passion Of which the
woman had been capable had cyl,
IDENTIFY been bestowed upon the writer
Of the letters sheAhad treasured.
| Her story was quite plain. She
had married NeWbold In fit of
| pique. He was an eastern man, the
best educated, the most fascinating
and interesting Of the men who fire.
quented the camp. There had been g
quarrel between the letter writer and
The woman; there were always quar-
rels, apparently, but this had been a
serious one and the man had savagely
flung away and left her. He had not
come back as he usually did. She had
waited for him and then he had come
back-too latel
He had wanted to kill the other, but
she had prevented, and while Newbold
was away he had made desperate love
to her. He had besought her to
leave her husband to go away with
him. He had used every argument
that he could to that end and the Wo-
man had hesitated and WaVered, but
she had not consented; she had not
denied her love for him any more than
she had denied her respect and Q
certain admiration for her gallant,
trusting husband. She had refused
again and again the requests Of her
lover. She could not control her
heart, nevertheless she had kept to
her marriage vows. But the force of
her resistance had grown weaker and
she had realized that alone she would
perhaps inevitably succumb.
Her lover had been away when her
husband returned prior to the last
fatefu1 journey. Enid Maitland saw
now why she had besought him to
take her with him, she was afraid to
be left alone! She did not dare de-
pend upon her own powers any more
her only salvation was to go with this
man whom she did not love, whom at
times she almost hated. to keep from.
falling into the arms Of the man she
did love. She had been more or less
afraid OF NeWbold. She had soon
realized, because she was not blinded
by any passion as he, that they had
been utterly mismated. She had come
to understand that when the same
knowledge of the truth came to him,
as it inevitably must some day. moth
ing but unhappiness would be their
portion
Every kind Of an argument in adj
dftion to those SO passionately adj
duced in these letters urging her to
break away from her husband and to
seek happiness for herself while yet
there was time, besieged her heart,
seconded her lovers plea and assailed
her will, and vet she had not given
way.
Now Enid Maitland hated the Wo-
man who had enjoyed the first young
love of the man she herself loved.
She hated her because OF her priority
of possession, because her memory
yet came between her and that man.
She hated her because NeWbo1d was
still true to her memory, because
Newbold, believing in the greatness of
her passion for him, thought 1t shame
and dishonor to his manhood to be
false to her, no matter what love and
longing drew him on.
Yet there was a stern sense Of JUS
tice in the bosom OF this young Wo-
man. She exulted In the successful
battle the poor woman had made for
the preservation Of her honor and her
good name, against such odds. 1t was
a sex triumph for which she was glad.
She was proud of her for the stern
rigor with which she had refused to
take the easiest way and the desper-
alton with which she had chung to
him she did not love, but to whom
she was bound by the laws of God and
man, in order that she might not fall
into the arms Of the man she did love,
IN defiance Of right.
Enid Maitland and this woman were
as far removed from each other
as the opposite poles of TIE earth, but
there was yet a common quality In
each one Of virtuous womanhood, Of
lofty morality. Natural, perhaps In
the one and to be be expected; I'M
natural. perhaps, and to be unexpect-
ed in the other, but there! Now that
she knew what love was and what
its power and what its force-for all
that she had felt and experienced and
dreamed about before WERE as nothing
to what 1t was since he had spoken
she could understand what the strug-
gle must have been In that Woman's
heart She could honor her, rever-
ence her, pity her.
she could understand the feeling of
the man too; she could think much
more clearly than he He was dis
tracted By two passions, for his pride
and his honor and for her; she had as
yet but one, for him.