“Why, dad wrote, Renny! I know he did, the day we left. He wanted you to come home again, now he was alone.”
“To come home? I never got the letter.”
“But he wrote, I’m certain, and didn’t Jason tell you?”
“He told me nothing—I didn’t even know he was married till yesterday.”
I bent over the young wife as she sat rocking her baby.
“Zyp, I must go. My heart is very full of misery and confusion. I must walk it off or sleep it off, or I think perhaps I shall go mad.”
“Did you love that girl, Renny?”
“No, Zyp. I have never had but one love in my life; and that I must say no more about. I have to speak to you, however, about one who did—a fierce, strong man, and utterly reckless when goaded to revenge. He is a fellow-workman of mine—he used to be my best friend—and, Zyp, his whole unselfish heart was given to this poor girl. But it was her happiness he strove after, and when he fancied that was centered in me—not him—he sacrificed himself and urged me to win. And I should have tried, for I was very lonely in the world, but that Jason—you know the truth already, Zyp—Jason came and took her from me; that was three months ago, and last night she drowned herself.”
Zyp looked up at me. Her eyes were swimming in tears.
“I suppose a better woman would leave such a husband,” she said, with a pitiful sigh, “but I think of the little baby, Renny.”