'Twas only a story of a woman's love, a tale that has often been told.
She gave a love that knew no bounds; the rest of the story is old.
Again he had strayed, and this time had made a mistake she could never forget;
In a voice that was dense with a grief intense she mournfully did say:
I gave you sweetest love, you gave me naught but pain;
Oh, I forgave you more than once but to be hurt again.
This time it means the end, for I could never forget.
I shall never see you again, although I love you yet.
With tears in his eyes the man replied: "I know that I have gone astray;
Remorse will last till life is passed; forgive me, don't send me away.
Oh, let me atone, live for you alone; just once more have pity on me."
But, bowing her head, with its look of one dead, she softly but firmly said:
I gave you sweetest love, etc.
The mother of the woman, an aged orthodox Hebrew, never went near Dora McDonald until the trial was nearly done, though that same old woman bent her knees as she day and night raised her voice to Jehovah in lamentations.
Ill health, mental and physical, followed. All the sorrows of a shattered life befell her.
Sought Vindication to Spare Her Aged Mother.
For Dora McDonald, life had been lived when Guerin died. It mattered not after that whether she went to the gallows or to freedom. But for one reason she would not have cared a whit whether her case was fought before a jury or not. The one reason was vindication that her mother might be spared something of shame.
The vindication, however, was sought at a costly price—the price of a life and heart and love bared to a gaping world. It was an expensive effort to wash off the stain of an indictment.