The Argosy — page 174: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

What ts the Meaning of Lt? 159 ing between them should take place with my knowledge. And I added what was quite true: ‘‘ He comes at all hours; we can never reckon on his visits,” ‘“T wish you would come and stay a day with me,” she said. ‘¢VYou remember what a nice long day we had once before you were married? Come again and have such another. I am by myself the whole day, from the time Mr. Amory goes to office till he returns, and Iam so dull. I have no real friends.” She looked mournful enough. I was touched to think of the bright, pretty girl whose life had seemed so sunshiny in bygone years, when mine had been hard and stern enough. And she had always had a smile and a pleasant word for me then. And now I was so happy, and she seemed so wretched, that I felt as if I had somehow wronged her. I promised to go, and she fixed the day and hour. I have little more story to tell. I paid my promised visit, and was with her from noon till about six in the evening. I can only say that, for months after, the memory of that day remained with me like a black wall drawn across the sunny fields of my life. For six hours, with scarcely a moment’s pause, did that unhappy woman pour out the miserable story of her life. There had been unfortunate circumstances, no doubt, but even the most pitying eye could not refuse to see that the one pervading misfortune had been her own weak, wilful, wrong-headed self. She spoke with utmost bitterness of some for whom she still outwardly professed honour and love. Without doubt her early life had been considerably mis- suided and wasted: much that had been intended as kindness had been cruelty, because misdirected ; but over and over again one felt that a true and vigorous nature would have found sweet nutriment where she turned all into gall and wormwood. Of later years, her days had dragged on in apathetic indifference, without one warm affection or one real duty—a seething storm within her, and utter stagnation without. An outburst was sure to come, sooner or later. It came in the October of the vision. But here my pen must pause. It is not for me to tell a story of weakness, and shame, and sin, that was poured into my bewildered ears in an agony of remorse that should be as sacred as any seal of confession. Suffice it to say that _ there came a point when she had to choose between all that makes life worthy, or all that makes it shameful. She chose rightly. She said so. She did not deny the sin of her heart; but she swore, with blinding tears, that it never passed into her life. In_ such a mist of degrading misery had she been lost, that she could not recall the exact date when she had the terrible choice. “She could remember that it was on a Friday in October, but whether it was the second or third Friday she could not tell. That was an awful day; but it came to an end at last, and as I walked home in the sweet peaceful sunset of early spring, I felt as if CoOnniclooolkks (CO) am =z)