Year: 1875

They were as handsome couple as
one would have wished indeed, many
persons who knew them both intimately,
said that Mr. and Mrs. Vivian were
samples of what true marriage ought
to be.


On this bitingly cold January morning
they were standing in the elegant library
of their residence in New York, numer-
Gus evidences OF aesthetic tastes sur
rounding them on all sides /; yet, to have
looked into their faces, it needed only a
glance to tell you of deep abiding trouble.


She was beautiful woman, this peer
less Ethel Vivian, with grave dignity
about her that was perfection with
rare, refined face, lighted by winsome,
violet blue eyes, framing the clear, pure
complexion, pale cheeks and glowing
scarlet mouth, with masses of pale, dead
gold hair that had made her husband so
madly i'll love only two years before.
Now, two years, after one year of perfect
happiness, when Ethel would tell her
husband such bliss so unalloyed could
not last much longer, after six months
more of vague suspicion, founded on the
most shadowy foundation then, after
the last six months of gradual, then rapid
distrust, jealousy, anger-it had all come
to this horrible open rupture. And on
that beautiful winter morning Ethel
Vivian and her husband had met in the
library of their home for the last time as
man and wife.


And the ponderous document lying on
the table where the two had so often
read together, was bill of divorce.


Yes, it had come to that-open separa-
tion-and all because-why


Ethel Vivian could have told you of
Laura st. Johns wondrous face; she
could have drawn you a picture of her
with such perfection of accuracy, that
you would hardly need to see her. And
this is how Ethel would have described
the woman who lay at the bottom of her
lifelong misery.


A face, witching as Venus, with
such a dainty, scarlet mouth, with the
tiny, seed-pearl teeth peeping between
her lips, just as the little dimple was
called to her scarlet-tinted cheeks by the
laugh that 50 often came.


Her eyes laughed, too-those sun
shiny eyes, that sparkled as though they
were vanished ; wondrous eyes of amber
red, with such magnificent red gold
lashes, that lay like heavy shadow on
her cheek perfect arched brows, and
hair that seemed fairy gift, so perfect
it was in texture, color and grace


Sometimes when she wore it hanging,
unbound and unbraided, just az nature
had waved it, from the crown of her
little, royalty set head, to far below her
waist, you would have taken Laura st.
John for sprite uncanny gnome, Ethe
said; a nymph of rarest beauty, goodness
and innocence.


Even after Edward Vivian learned how
deceitful how utterly unprincipled she
was, he forgave it her, because it was
himself she loved. SO now that this
beautiful demoness had SO worked her
plans that Edward Vivian was oftener by
her side of an evening than at his wife's
now that Ethel had freely come to
learn that she was no longer necessary to
her husbands happiness, she had re-
quested him to let her 60 away let him
be freed legally from the bonds that had
grown so CALLING. Now, there the two
stood face to face, to coldly say goodbye
Ethel was deadly white az she took the
pen her husband colwteously handed
her, to sign her name to- that which, once
signed, unwifed her forever. But was it
not better thus Had she a right to
stay where she felt her presence was a
burden-where she knew she was merely
tolerated T


Then rushing memories of the days
when she came there in the flood-tide
of happiness came surging over her sore
heart; she trembled violently; her cold
fingers refused to clasp the pen; and,
with one swift, piteous look up in her