“My wife, let us never again mention her! At last I see——”
Manlike, he wished no mention made of his wrongdoing—that he put it behind him he considered sufficient. A sharp pain went through my heart, that all my agony was to be put aside so lightly; but—he was my husband. I sat a moment irresolute, then placed my hands in his, and replied, “As you wish; but let there be no looking backward, let us both live aright each day, and we shall not fail of being happy.”
I made instant resolve to put those higher and better thoughts into practical use, and I have never had cause to regret so doing. Neither the ghost of my enemy, nor the wraith of a regret have since visited me.
WHAT BECAME OF THE MONEY?
Marjorie Melton and Henry Laselle, were an ideally happy couple; for once the course of true love seemed to run smoothly, thus belying the old adage. Marjy was the pet and heiress of an old aunt with whom she lived. Henry was a young lawyer, with a fair amount of practice, a good reputation, and every prospect of success. Aunt Hattie—as she was lovingly called—lived as befitted her station, on one of the most fashionable avenues.
One Monday evening Aunt Hattie received a large sum of money from the sale of property; as it was after banking hours she locked it away in a small safe in her sitting room. Henry and Marjy sat by the table reading, and commenting on a work of occult science; Henry taking the stand that it was like hunting for a half a dozen pearls in a mountain of sand; Marjy defending the theories with much warmth, as much because of their beauty as because of their truth. Hypnotism was the subject under discussion, Henry declaring that he considered the whole thing “fudge.”
Aunt Hattie locked away her money, and as she passed the table, she tossed a slip of paper on which was written the combination of the safe, to Marjy, saying, “Put that away, please; it is a pity that one must become so forgetful; I have but this instant locked that safe, yet I cannot even now, remember the combination.” Her tone expressed such intense disgust with herself that Henry and Marjy laughed merrily.
Henry picked up the slip of paper and read the numbers and letters aloud: “I’ll wager that I could repeat that a week from to-night!”
“I’ll take that bet; you have a good memory, but I think not quite equal to that; however I’ll put this out of your sight, so that you cannot study it;” answered she teasingly, as she hid the paper.
He left the house an hour or so later, and nothing further was said on the subject. After he reached home the letters and figures kept repeating themselves over and over in his mind, until he heartily tired of them; even after he retired they continued to dance before his mental vision, until he angrily exclaimed aloud: