&J4/? /U Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/retributionotherOOtrig PRICE, TEN CENTS. ^tftfBUT/ V AND r OTHER POETICAL STORIES. By THOMAS H. TRIGGS, For thirty-five years .a member of the Cigarinakers Unions of America and England. COPYRIGHTED 1904 BY THOMAS'- H. TRIGGS. KIERNAN PRINTING CO. '! NEW HAVEN, CONN. *! CONGRESS Ow COPV RECffvrr JUN. 54-1904 r\ Oh«v^O»*T fwrov CLASS ft^XX* N*. 1 Retribution. A Story of A Deserted Mansion. Come light a fresh cigar, my friend, And take the easy chair, The story will interest you If you've the time to spare. I've related it to many And some have even said, It would make as fine a novel As many they had read. It's just ten years ago this spring Since Stanley went away ; No man nor women has been inside The mansion since tnat day And the grounds, that were so beautiful With lawns of emerald green, Are now a wretched wilderness As you have just now seen. And I suppose the grand old place Will stay as it is now ; For Lester Stanley's not a man Who soon forgets a vow. For when she died — I mean his wife. Some thought he'd go insane ; While others thought he'd end his life W T ith a bullet in his brain. But he vowed that the fine old mansion, Out of respect for his wife. Should never more be opened During his wretched life. So he just discharged the servants, And then he went away ; And no one here has seen him Since that very day. But I'm drifting away from my story : I should first of all relate How the poor lad, Lester Stanley, Fell heir to this rich estate. Old Barton was Stanley's uncle, Upon his mother's side, Though Stanley did not know it Until the old man died. RETRIBUTION. Old Barton and his sister Had quarreled years before, And had not corresponded For fifteen years or more. 'Tvvas he who built the mansion, Intending, so they claim, To marry a handsome woman Of very doubtful fame. But on the eve of their wedding" Her history came to light ; So she got together all she could And left the place that night. So old Barton stayed a bachelor t And often he has told How very near, at that time, He came to being sold. He never lived at the mansion ; But once in a while he came, For he used to say that country life For him, was far too tame. But, just before the old man died, It seemed he realized His end was drawing very near ; And then he advertised For tidings of his sister, Who, he knew, had gone out west, Soon after they had quarreled; And he felt he could not rest Until he made her some return For the wrong that he had done. But others say it was his wish To meet his sister's son ; But, if that really was his wish, It never was fulfilled ; Although, his vast estate and wealth, To him the old man willed. For Stanley had been in Europe, Somewhere, about a year, Where he held a good position As a civil engineer. RETRIBUTION. 'Tw as just before he went abroad, His poor old mother died ; Who seldom spoke of her brother's wealth, •Knowing her son's great pride. But Stanley still corresponded With lads he knew at school, Who had kept him well supplied With papers, as a rule. In this way he had learned the news About his uncle's death ; But when he saw he was his heir, It nearly took his breath. He lost no time in coming back To prove his legal right ; As many claimed relationship And said they'd make a fight. But one by one they fell away, Seeing their chance was slim, For he was the only relative And all was left to him. His affairs at last were settled, And needing a little rest, He sent word to the mansion^ To prepare for himself and guest. His guest was a well known architect, To whom, no doubt, is due The many fine improvements That made the place like new. But just as soon as it was known That Stanley would be here, The dainty cards came pouring in From far, as well as near. And many a scheming mother ' Begjun to plot and plan, ^ " To introduce their daughters To this rich and handsome man. And many an ancient brougham Was suddenly replaced By the grandest style of carriage That a lady ever graced. RETRIBUTION. But little did those schemers think How brief his stay would be ; Still less did they imagine There was one across the sea, Who loved this man so dearly — Loved him for himself ; Who knew not that his uncle's death Had given him such wealth ; For Stanley had not told her About his uncle's will ; But, simply led her to believe That he was feeling ill, And that a trip across the sea Would, no doubt, mend his health ; Intending later, to divulge The secret of his wealth. 'Twas while he was in England, He met his future bride, The daughter of an officer, Who, years ago, had died While serving out in India Against some rebel force ; But, she was then by far, too young To recognize her loss. But I've often thought it very strange, That Stanley could not see, About her mother's married life, There seemed some mystery. The daughter, from her childhood, Dared never speak her name, Which seemed to be suggestive Of some hidden shame. Although Miss Sybel Dunton's name Was ranked among the best. In the town where she resided And where Stanley was a guest; But Stanley knew, she loved him With the fullness of her heart, And his love for her grew stronger Each day they were apart. RETRIBUTION. But her letters, which came often, Seemed to hasten him away ; Otherwise, he would no doubt Have made a longer stay ; For he'd been here but a day or two When he and his friend began Suggesting such alterations As would suit his modern plan; And then a swarm of workmen Came down upon the scene, And soon there remained but little Of the old place to be seen. 'Twas then that a local paper Published an interview, Which gave his neighbors some idea What he was going to do. It started out by saying How deep was his regret, He could not find the time to call Upon his neighbors yet ; For just as soon as his affairs Would permit him to depart, He intended going to Europe, And expected soon to start. And then he vaguely hinted, When the mansion was complete, He hoped for a gay home coming With someone else to greet. I scarce need say, the folks around, After their first surprise, Began to wonder who she was Who had won this wealthy prize. But many were disappointed Though they tried their best to hide The bitterness against her, Caused by their wounded pride. But Stanley sailed and as time passed, Towards the summer's close, A marvel of skill and workmanship, That statelv mansion rose. RETRIBUTION. It seemed as though the magic power Of some Aj/a-c^n/s^amj^ _^__^// ! ve7ywhere in evidence, / And bore the Genii's stamp. For the furnishings were exquisite, And of the rarest kind ; . As if he'd searched throughout the world Such costly things to find; And then an expert gardener, The best that could be found, Came on to add artistic skill To beautify the ground. One day his friend, the architect, Came hurrying down to learn If everything was quite complete, For they would soon return ; By they, of course, he meant Lester Stanley and his bride, Who, as I found out later, Were married at Eastertide. But everything was quite prepared, And then in Stanley's name, He invited friends to meet them At the mansion when they came. And then came the splendid horses, Selected with greatest care, For saddle and for harness, For four-in-hand and pair. 'Twas evident he did not mean The old man's wealth to hoard ; For he had learned extravagance Completely while abroad. But the day had arrived at last, And folks for miles around, Had gathered at the station Or drove up to the ground, To welcome the happy couple And give them a hearty cheer, And hoped they'd live as neighbors For man\' a happy year. RETRIBUTION. 'Twas the first week- in October, The weather was just serene, And the leaves of gold and purple Were mingled with the green ; The day was warm and balmy With scarce sufficient breeze, As the evening was advancing, To rustle the falling leaves. Such was nature's welcome To this pair, whose future life Seemed as cloudless as the heavens From every care and strife. The train arrived, and just as soon As the happy pair stepped out, The many friends in waiting Sent up a hearty shout. Twas a scene to be remembered And I doubt, if the oldest there Had ever at that station seen A sight, with it to compare. For most of his friends held torches Of different colored fires, And rows of Chinese lanterns Were hung through the streets on wires ; And then his friend, the architect, As had no doubt, been planned, Stepped forward from the others And shook them by the hand. Then in a few well chosen words, Which all around could hear, He bade them welcome to their home That now should be most dear. Then off they went in carriages, And all alom?" the route, The humbler class of people To welcome them turned out. And soon the mansion came in view, A palace, indeed, it seemed, As from each window everywhere Those lights of welcome gleamed. 10 RETRIBUTION. It was, no doubt, the happiest hour Of Lester Stanley's life, To find such a hearty greeting- Accorded to his wife. And she, no doubt, felt quite rejoiced, Just leaving her native land — -To receive from perfect strangers A reception thus so grand. The Autumn and the Winter parsed In an uneventful way ; Each hour its usual routine brought And day succeeded day. But now the month of April came, And all nature seemed to be Rejoicing that from Winter's grasp, It was at last set free. And the grounds around the mansion Once more began to wear A spring-like look, while sweet perfume Of lilacs filled the air. One morning Stanley's mail contained A letter, which, he saw W 7 as written in a lady's hand And a foreign post mark bore. It seemed to cause him some surprise, Which many people feel, Who scan the writing o'er and o'er Before they break the seal. And as he read the missive through, He seemed to look quite vexed, And then he read it through again But still he was perplexed ; And then he sat and thought awhile, Then to his wife he said: u Fve just received a letter, dear, From an aunt I've long thought dead." In order to explain to her And not be thought absurd, He told her from the very start How the whole thing had occurred. RETRIBUTION. I ] His father was an Englishman, Who came here quite a lad, And Stanley had saved his letters Which he from home had had. So, when he went to England, He tried his best to find His father's only sister, Whom he left, quite young, behind ; But his advertising was in vain, So he gave up all idea Of ever hearing from her, More, especially now, out here ; But the purport of her letter was To say how pleased she'd be, To pay their home .a visit Though far across the sea ; So if they felt a like desire, To answer by next mail, For she was quite prepared to come And would at once set sail. It took but little time for them, Although it might for some, To reach the mutual answer That she of course should come ; And so a letter was dispatched In most affectionate way, To say they'd be delighted To have her come and stay. That morning as they took their drive. It seemed as though a cloud Hung over their great happiness And the love they both had vowed. Now several days had passed away Since the letter had been sent, But neither one had said a word Concerning the event. 12 RETRIBUTION. One afternoon, some old time friends Of Stanley's came to try A couple of his thoroughbreds, That they had wished to buy ; So they went down to the paddock, Where a groom, in waiting, held A couple of the finest bays They ever had beheld. Then the two who were interested, Mounting the horse he chose, Went cantering off to try them As a shout from the others rose. But one of those two young fellows Who had cantered off in glee, I must introduce in my story As the artist, Horace Leigh. 'Twas last season while in Paris That he had gained the name, As the greatest portrait painter Known to modern fame. But let us follow the horsemen, Who now are riding free, Across the splendid open stretch Of beautiful country. But see! they're making for the road, Their pace is now immense, But Stanley seems to hold his breath As they ride toward the fence. But see ! the foremost takes the jump And lands with grace and ease; But the other falters, strikes the fence And falls upon her knees. The lookers-on soon realized That one of their friends was down And sent the groom to summon Some doctor from the town; Then they hurried to where the rider Lay motionless and white, But they were much relieved to find He was not killed outright. RETRIBUTION. Then a bier was soon constructed, For each had done his best, So that the injured Horace Leigh More easily could rest. Then they bore him to the mansion For Stanley had sent a groom For his wife to direct the servants To prepare a certain room. By the time they reached the mansion And laid him gently down, Two skillful surgeons had arrived, Who were summoned from the town. They soon found that his injuries Gave no cause for alarm, Beyond an ankle badly sprained And a dislocated arm; Although it would be quite sometime Without the slightest doubt, Before he would be well enough Again to be about. A few days after, a letter came From Stanley's aunt to say That long before it was received She would be on her way ; But she hoped to meet her nephew At the dock where she would land, As she was traveling quite alone And needed some friendly hand. Then Stanley made enquiries When the vessel would be due, That he might go to meet her As she desired him to do. So ere a week had passed away, He left his loving wife ; For the first time, they were parted Throughout their married life. By this time, Leigh had much improved. Being able now each day To get down to the library And pass an hour away. 14 RETRIBUTION. At times he met his hostess there, Whose charming easy grace Set him at his ease at once In going about the place. At times he'd sit and talk with her Of places where he'd been, And of the marvels of his art That he in Rome had seen. 'Twas while they talked of pictures That she had thought to ask If enlarging from small portraits Was a very difficult task ; As she had a picture, a miniature, Of her husband when quite young, Which, ever since their marriage, Around her neck had hung. It had been his mother's treasure And she thought how nice 'twould be To surprise him with a large one Painted by Horace Leigh. Then he asked to see the picture, Resolving in his mind, That he'd produce a masterpiece When he, the time, could find, Then he told her, how delighted He would be, to reproduce The portrait of her husband. If she granted him its use. So taking that cherished keepsake Off from its golden chain, She begged him not to lose it For its loss would cause her pain. Then he promised he would guard it Even as he would his life, For he felt so much indebted To both Stanley and his wife. But here their pleasant little talk, Which both enjoyed so well, Came to a sudden ending By the ringing of the bell. RETRIBUTION IS And then a servant softly knocked Upon the library door, And handed her a telegram Expected long- before ; For the ship was some days overdue, Through storms that had prevailed All over the Atlantic, From the first day she had sailed. But now the welcome telegram From Stanley, was to say, That his aunt had safely landed And Jhey would be home that day. She gave orders that a carriage Be sent to meet the train, And then went to prepare herself To meet her love again. For, though she felt for this new aunt A kind of a childish fear, She was rejoiced that Stanley Would soon again be here ; For although she lacked for nothing, She felt as a loving wife, That only her husband's presence Gave sunshine to her life. And Leigh was also pleased to know His friend was coming home, For his health was fast improving And he longed again to roam. The great hall clock had just struck six, And Sybel Stanley sat Alone, by an open window, In view of the entrance gate; But soon the sound of horses hoofs Fell on he** listening ear, Which told her unmistakably, That they would soon be here. One final look in the mirror On that sweet and happy face, Then bounded down to meet him, And was locked in his embrace. l6 RETRIBUTION. After their joyful greeting. He took her hand and said : " Sybel, this is my aunt Dora, Whom I so long thought dead." Then taking his aunt's hand also r Said, " Aunt, this is my wife, And I hope that perfect happiness Will attend us all our life." Just then Horace Leigh had entered, But stood quite unobserved, But he could not fail to notice How Sybel was unnerved. The small black eyes of Stanleys aunt Were fixed upon her niece, And the hand she held so firmly, Seemed unwilling to release ; But that look would be remembered Until Leigh's dying day, As the look of a human serpent, Upon its helpless prey. But Stanley did not notice it And turning saw his friend, Whose hand he shook real warmly, Being glad to see him mend. Then turning to his aunt again, Said, " Aunt, this is Horace Leigh, An artist of no mean repute, And friend of our family." Leigh simply bowed acknowledgment, Not caring to reply, For to say he felt delighted, He knevv^ would be to lie. But seeing Sybel's misery, He extended her his hand, And said, he hoped she'd much enjoy Her visit to this land. She was then escorted to her rooms, And Stanley sought his own, Thus leaving Leigh and Sybel In the svtting room alone. RETRIBUTION. 1 7 Leigh was pleased that the opportunity Was afforded him to say, Something else about the portrait Before he went away. He hoped, he said, to have it done Within a month or so, But he wished her first to see it At his New York studio. But the problem then confronted them, How he could let her know, When the portrait was completed And where she had to go. For if he wrote direct to her, It might cause some surprise, Which made it most imperative That they some plan devise. At length it was agreed upon, Though she felt half afraid, That he should mail the letter Addressed to Sybel's maid. In her she placed more confidence Than anyone beside, Although she had no secrets Until now to confide. Leigh wrote the name upon a card, In case he should forget. Alas ! what trivial things, at times, Fill some lives with regret. That evening Stanley and his aunt, Feeling tired from their ride, Sat quietly conversing, Being seated side by side. She was telling him of India, And the sights that she had seen In places, where the mutiny Some years before had been. Even now, she said, the British there Live in continual fear, That another Nana Sahib Might suddenly appear. RETRIBUTION* Somehow, it occurred to Stanley To ask if she ever heard, Of the gallant Colonel Dunton Of the famous Sixty-third. Did I ever hear of the Colonel ? Why, I knew him well, of course, I was the principal witness, In obtaining his divorce. Then Sybel, hearing her aunt's reply, Rose quickly from her seat, And staggering to her husband, Fell fainting at his feet. Stanley was grieved exceedingly Though making no comment, It pained him much to think that Leigh Should witness this event. But he rung the bell for a servant, And sent for Sybel's maid, To hurry to her mistress Who needed her friendly aid. Aunt Dora's face was a study, At first, her small black eyes Gazed on the scene her words had caused, With mute unfeigned surprise ; But like a flash the truth had dawned, That she was Dunton's child, Once more her heart for vengeance yearned, As malignantly she smiled. That smile was the smile of triumph Over a ruined life ; The life of her hated rival, Once Colonel Dunton's wife. But now to find that rival's child, A happy petted bride, Renewed the hatred of her heart That naught could turn aside. But she quickly perceived that Stanley Had felt himself disgraced ; So without a word to anyone She left the room in haste. RETRIBUTION. 19 As Sybel regained consciousness, She gazed around the room, Like one awakening from a trance And thus escapes a tomb. But Stanley held her in his arms And gently spoke her name, Though bitterly he felt the stab, About her mother's shame. Soon Sybel and her maid retired, Thus leaving the men alone; Leigh felt his friend's predicament, As though it were his own ; But neither referred to the matter, Not knowing what to say ; So Leigh commenced to tell his friend That he must leave next day. But Stanley tried to urge his friend To stay a week or two. For after such an accident, He needed rest he knew. But Leigh explained that he had left Some work but just begun, Intended for the academy That ought to have been done. But when he bade his friend good night, He felt inclined to say A word or two of warning, Before he went away ; But then he thought, it might provoke Some feeling of alarm, And where he had intended good, He might be doing harm. Aunt Dora had spent a sleepless night, And shortly after dawn, Before the servants were astir, She was out upon the lawn. Her mind still dwelt on the strange event, Which led her to this place, And the hatred for her rival's child That nothing could efface. RETRIBUTION. Nothing but ruin most complete Would satisfy her hate, For why should not her rival's child Suffer her rival's fate ? But how she was to bring about The ruin of one so pure, She felt it was no easy task, And she remain secure. For she had not seen sufficient Of Stanley yet to know, How to arouse his jealousy, And how far she dared go. But of one thing she felt certain, That he had been misled, Concerning Sybel's mother's fate Before they ever wed. For when she replied to his question, And Sybel fell at his feet, Was it not to ask his forgiveness When he found out her deceit ? Then she thought of Leigh, whose manner Toward his friend's young wife, Might possibly be so magnified, As to cause them future strife ; But Stanley had informed her, How his friend had been detained, Through meeting with the accident, In which his foot was sprained. But firmly was her purpose set, No matter, soon or late, A web of ruin must be spun, Though she, for years, must wait. With such infernal thoughts as these, Filling her morbid brain, She had once more retraced her steps, To seek her room again. "But as she reached the sitting room, She picked up from the floor, A very small morocco case That was lvin£ near the door, RETRIBUTION. 21 But seeing no name upon it, She felt that she was free To open the case and ascertain What the owner's name could be. But the first card that she looked at, Had filled her with surprise, As she read the pencil writing, She scarse believed her eyes. le front bore the name of Horace Leigh, Followed by his address, On the other side, was Laura Dale, When writing to " S. S." She had recognized in Laura Dale The name of Sybel's maid, And by the other it was plain Some appointment had been made. It was evident that a secret Existed between those two, The friend that Stanley trusted, and The wife, he thought so true. That evil smile of triumph spread Over her face once more, As she placed the card in her bosom, And the case upon the floor. It was as a key to a cipher, For she would watch the mail, And steal the letters from the bag Addressed to Laura Dale ; Then after reading their contents. She could seal them up anew, A thing she'd often done before And people never knew. Such w r as the plan that she had formed In that brief space of time, Trusting now to her craftiness, To aid her in her crime. Xo sooner had she reached her room, And softly closed the door, Than Horace Leigh walked leisurely Through that corridor. 22 RETRIBUTION. He had not missed his little case Until now, when he saw It lying straight in front of him Upon the polished floor. Nor did he think to open it To see if that card was there, But thought how very fortunate It had not dropped elsewhere. Horace Leigh had arose quite early, Being anxious now to learn What time the coachman, with the mail, Was likely to return ; For much depended on his mail, What time he'd go away, For he had quite made up his mind To leave for home that day. But while at the breakfast table, He found out that unless He caught the train at 10 a. m., He could not go express. l 7 or it was quite an hour's ride To New York by that train, While any other through the day Took half as long again. Then Stanley ordered a carriage, And asked his aunt if she Would accompany Sybel and 'himself, To the town with Horace Leigh. But Aunt Dora thanked her nephew For being so very kind, But hoped they would excuse her, If she remained behind. Aunt Dora had declined to go, Because she wished to make The acquaintance of the servants, And some observations take. She had learned from past experience, What aid they often lend In obtaining family secrets, For some designing friend. RETRIBUTION. 23 In this way, she had hoped to learn Much about Laura Dale, _Both regarding- her general habits, And how she got her mail. For though her plan seemed perfect, She still must act with care, For she perhaps might go to town And get her letters there. Hut her mind was much relieved. When a rack to her was shown Where the servants' mail was placed, That each could take their own. She also learned, that Laura Dale Was late in coming down, And no one ever heard her speak Of going to the town. Then she went into the library, Where Sybel the day before Had carelessly left her diary, In an open drawer. The last entry she had written, Was about the miniature. That she intrusted to Horace Leigh, And the purpose it was for; But Aunt Dora read the entry With a scowl upon her face, For she now saw that their secret Was devoid of all disgrace ; But still she would not abandon, The hope that soon she'd find The letter, that might eventually Poison her nephew's mind. Three weeks had passed, and still no word From Leigh had been received ; And Dora now began to think That she had been deceived. For not one morning had she missed To search the mail bag through. And not a move could Sybel make But what Aunt Dora knew. 24 RETRIBUTION. But since Aunt Dora had arrived, Sybel had seen much more Of the Social World around her, Than she had seen before. Stanley, of course, was very pleased. To think that his young wife Was entering less reservedly, Into society life. Although he did not much enjoy The pleasures of this kind, And where he saw the slightest chance, He some excuse would find. One morning, Sybel reminded him Of their promise not to fail To accompany some friends of theirs For a long day's sail. But Stanley had quite forgotten, And said he felt quite grieved, To think he could not keep his word ; For he had just received A letter of great importance, which Allowed of no delay, And for a day or two at least. He'd have to go away. It was of course unfortunate That it should happen so, But still he saw no reason Why Sybel should not go. And so it was arranged at last. That she should go alone, Although he felt some kind of fear, He did not care to own. Aunt Dora had sat and listened To all that had been said, And now to hide that evil smile, She had to turn her head, For the mail contained that morning The letter for Laura Dale, And she saw that her opportunity Was during- Svbel's sail. RETRIBUTION. <-3 So she left them still conversing 1 , And hurried to her room, To open the stolen letter, that Should seal poor Svbel's doom. The letter was very brief indeed, And simply read " S. S." "Come on Tuesday morning sure. On the 10 a. m. express, A cab will be there in waiting", To drive you to studio, The driver will wear some violets. So that you may know." Then she took a seat at the window To see her niece depart ; But ere the carriage was out of sight, Went down to act her part. Stanley was still in the library, Reading some favorite book, But started as he saw his aunt With such an evil look; She started in by telling him, How much she was surprised, That he had met and married A woman so much despised. Then she related her own story Of Sybel's mother's shame, And how she wantonly disgraced ' The gallant Colonel's name. Then gradually she introduced The name of Horace Leigh, But Stanley rose up from his chair And stared most furiously. But she was calm and subtle, And mistress of her art, For she had studied every point, To play her fiendish part. Then she took the card from her bosom And asked him, if he knew The pencil writing on the back, And who " S. S." alluded to. 26 RETRIBUTION. Stanley's face turned white with rage, As he read that card again, For he recognized Leigh's writing and He saw their plot most plain. Then she told him that she found it The day Leigh went away, And how since then she'd watched the mail Until that very day. " But at last, she said, my patience Has met with its reward." Then she handed him the letter Without another word. And as he read those few brief words, He sank down in his chair, A crushed and broken-hearted man, So great was his despair. Aunt Dora might have pitied him, But she before had seen The anguish of a man and wife That she had come between. For several minutes, Stanley sat With his head upon his hand. And then with a mighty effort Regained his self command. Then turning to his aunt, he asked, What she thought best to do; For he would tear her from his heart If she had proved untrue. Aunt Dora seemed quite overcome, And sadly shook her head. " My poor, dear nephew, it is hard To see you thus, she said; But after all it may not be, That she has sunk so low As to meet him as he tells her, At his New York studio. Of. course the letter must be sealed, And left for Laura Dale, Who will give it to her mistress When she comes from her sail, RETRIBUTION. 27 But I heard you say this morning, That you must go away, And why not go yourself and see If she goes there that day. And if I saw her enter there, I'd sue for a divorce, And cast her out upon the world Without the least remorse." As those last words fell on his ear. He gave a sudden start, As though a knife or bullet Had pierced his manly heart. And, as he rose up from his chair, He seemed an altered man; Twas evident his mind was set To follow out this plan. Then, in a husky voice, he said, " My duty, Aunt, is plain, Until I prove her false or true, We must not meet again." Svbel had had a pleasant sail, But, all day long, her mind Reverted in the strangest way, To him she left behind. And as she rode toward her home, She sadder seemed to grow Although she knew no reason why She should be feeling so. It was quite late when she returned, And everything around Seemed as lonesome as the tomb, In that stillness so profound. But Laura Dale was in the hall, Whose happy, smiling face Seemed to banish gloomy thoughts And brighten up the place. And when they reached the solitude Of Sybel's sweet boudoir, Laura handed her the letter That she had long looked for. 28 RETRIBUTION. And after reading- its contents, She thought how opportune That Stanley had to go away, And not return so soon. For now she would not have to find Any excuse to go, For she could travel there and back And no one need to know. The next day being Tuesday, She wished to rise at eight, To catch that 10 a. m. express And must not be too late. When Stanley reached New York that day He made his way direct To his old time friend and school-mate, Known as the architect. And to him he told his story, How his fair young wife Was under the grave suspicion Of leading a double life. And that he wanted a witness, To see if Sybel went Alone to the artist's studio, As he feared was her intent. His friend, of course was sorely grieved At such distressing news, And any favor Stanley asked He could not well refuse, So it was arranged between them To hire a cab and wait, About the time the train was due Near to the exit gate. For she of course would follow The instructions sent by Leigh, And look for the cab to take her As quickly as could be. And then if they saw her enter 'Twould be his only course, To at once instruct his lawyer To sue for a divorce. RETRIBUTION. 29 That night when Stanley was alone And looked back on the day, It seemed that all his manly strength And fortitude gave way. Then he called to mind how Sybel Had undergone a change, Since the day that Leigh had left them And had become so strange. But it did not dawn upon him That since Aunt Dora came, His manner to his loving wife Had never been the same. Thus as the dreary hours crept by, His mind incessant dwelt Upon the crushing blow that she So merciless had 'dealt. And, then, when the morning sunshine Filled his pleasant room, He felt like a weary culprit, Who nears his hour of doom. But he had not yet decided What would be best to do, Pending the sad proceedings, If he really had to sue. Of course, he would provide for her In a generous way, That she would not be destitute And he, perhaps away. Just then it had occurred to him He had promisedT long ago To visit a friend in Paris, And now was the time to go; For only his friend, and lawyer Need know where he had gone, And they could keep him well informed How things were going on. Just then he had mustered courage To take his pen and write, That cruel letter to his wife, That must her future blight. 3o RETRIBUTION. He intended that his lawyer' Should act without delay, And bear the letter personally To Sybel the next day. Then looking at his watch he saw 'Twas time to meet his friend, Who he knew would be in waiting His sad services to lend. As Sybel neared New York that morn, Aboard that speeding train, She many, many times had wished That she was home again. For she now perceived her folly In travelling there alone, 'Twas an act of impropriety, She could not help but own. But gradually, that speeding train Began to slacken pace; Then Sybel drew her veil more close, To hide her blushing face. For now they had reached the station, And with that busy throng, Moving toward the exit gate, She, too, must pass along. But when she reached the sidewalk, She stood and gazed around, Bewildered by the busy scene, And by the deafening sound; She had stood there but a minute, Then joyfully espied The cabman, " wearing violets," Who drove up to the side. But as she stepped into that cab And swiftly drove away, How little did she know the cost Her future life must pay ! How little did she dream that, he Whose love to her was life, Was now prepared to brand her as A faithless banished wife ! RETRIBUTION. 3 1 For Stanley and his faithful friend Had followed close, and saw Her leave the cab while Horace Leigh Stood waiting at his door. Stanley bore it manfully, though 'Twas plainly to be seen, His life would never be the same As what it once had been. And as Sybel view'd his portrait, And thought how pleased he'd be With such a splendid picture, Painted by Horace Leigh ; He was driving to his lawyer, To tell him all he knew r Of the evidence against his wife, On which he'd have to sue. And when he left that office, His heart felt like a stone, Now more than ever through his life He felt he was alone. When Sybel returned that evening, And alighted from the train, She vowed she'd never undertake To go alone again. Although the picture pleased her, And would be sent next day, For Leigh worked hard to finish it, Before he went away. For he'd had a splendid offer From an English Lord, And all arrangements had been made For him to go abroad. But when Sybel reached the mansion She was met by Laura Dale, Whose manner was confused and strange And her face was very pale. Then as she took poor Sybel's hand And crossed the spacious hall, She seemed to shake in every limb' As though about to fall. RETRIBUTION. She led her to the sitting room, Where Sybel took a seat, And Laura drew a hassock near And sat down at her feet. But Sybel had guessed, that something Unusual had occurred, Even before her faithful maid Had time to speak a word. Then she told her how Aunt Dora Had got the keys that morn, And entered Sybel's private rooms As soon as she had gone. And that a telegram had come Somewhere about mid-day, And some of Stanley's traveling trunks Were packed and sent away Poor Sybel was so bewildered, With all that she had heard, That she sat and stared at Laura But could not speak a word. But at length, her maid suggested Goin^ to her rooms to see If they could find the reason For all this mystery. They went to her rooms, not thinking That she would ever dare To search her desk or papers, Or take a thing from there. But she found that from her diary Some pages had been torn, And the letter that Leigh had written, From her desk had also gone. SybeTs feeling of indignation Soon gave way to alarm, For she saw Aunt Dora's motive Must be to do her harm. But what was more perplexing still, And caused her most dismay, Was that her husband's traveling trunks Were packed and sent away. RETRIBUTION. 33 B,ut she know to seek Aunt Dora And ask her to explain, Would be to cause her pleasure At the cost of her own pain. So all there was left for poor Sybel Was to ponder, weep and wait For the morn to dispel her sorrow, Or seal her hapless fate. To wait for that cruel letter, That shall rend her heart in twain And send her out an outcast Under that fearful bane. A week had passed since Stanley's suit Had shocked the social world, And every kind of righteous scorn On Sybel had been hurled. For the case seemed clear against her. Especially since 'twas known That the co-respondent, Horace Leigh, Had left her to fight alone. For within an hour one morning, Two ships steamed down the bay, Each bearing its freight of precious-lives To shores so far away. On one was the artist, Horace Leigh, Proud of his growing fame, But unconscious of all the calumny That sullied his fair name; On the other was Lester Stanley, Still firm in his belief That Leigh had been the guilty cause Of all his present grief. But as fre paced the silent deck, With fever'd aching brain, How oft his thoughts had wandered back To his false love again. But now they near the shores of France And joy fills many a heart, But no such joy can Stanley feel Who stands from all apart. 34 RETRIBUTION. For some are met by loved ones Parted for many a year, But their joy finds mute expression now In many a glistening tear. But Stanley went on to Paris And sought the best hotel, Then went to his rooms immediately, For he was not feeling well. But later that night a doctor Was summoned to see the guest, Who was feeling weak and weary, And whose mind was much distressed. The doctor saw that his patient Would likely grow much worse, So told them to procure at once An English-speaking nurse. Next morning when the doctor called, He found the nurse was there, And gave her all the instructions Pertaining to his care. For he saw that Stanley's condition Was very grave, indeed, And knew that skillful nursing- Was now his greatest need; 'Twas a most malignant fever, And soon, no doubt, would come Those many sleepless days and nights Of wild delirium. Already the patient began to show These symptoms in his case, As he breathed the name of ' 4 Sybel " When he saw his nurse's face. His nurse was somewhat startled, When she heard him speak her name Although so many thousands more, She knew, might bear the same. But her sad, sweet face seemed brighter, As she moved about the room Performing those gentle duties, Yet heedless of the gloom. RETRIBUTION. 35 And as she bathed his fevered brow, She breathed a silent prayer, That "He who marks the sparrows fall' That stranger's life would spare. But let us leave poor Stanley Still battling for his life, And follow the events occurjnsr To his persecuted wife; Let us return to that morning When Stanley sailed away, To the visit that his lawyer paid To Sybel on that day. She was seated in the library, Her eyes still wet with tears, And her mind still alternating Between vain hopes and fears, When a carriage passed the window And drove up to the door, And a gentleman alighted, She had never seen before. But when the servant handed her, The stranger's card, she knew r That her very worst suspicions Had turned out to be true. She had often heard her husband Mention his name before, As one of the most able men That ever studied law. He was shown into the library, But as he entered there, He thought he never yet had seen A face so sad or fair. And as he said, years afterwards, He saw at once that she Was just as pure and innocent As any child could be. But he was there to carry out His instructions in the case, And not to risk his client's cause On any sad, sweet face. 36 RETRIBUTION. And then as he bowed respectfully, Declining the proffered chair, He proceeded to tell the business That had brought him there. He said, ''As your husband's lawyer It devolves on me of course, To inform you that your husband Is su^ing for a divorce. ie evidence" he said, "is such That leaves no room for doubt, Although it was by accident That he had found it out. " Then he handed her some papers Remarking, 4l you will see, That the co-respondent in the case, Is the artist, Horace Leigh. This letter, my client also sent, Which doubtless will explain, Some matters concerning your support Till he returns again. " And then as he finished speaking He bowed again and left, As Sybel fell upon the floor As though of life bereft. But late that night two women Passed through the mansion gate, And stepped into the carriage That long had had to wait. And as that carriage started off Towards the station's light, A fiendish, mocking laugh was heard In the stillness of the night ; For hidden by the darkness, Aunt Dora had watched with glee, And laughed that fiendish mocking laugh, At her victim's misery. For never again in society, Could Sybel show her face, And who could now dispute her right As mistress of that place ? RETRIBUTION. 37 For now she would enter society And freely entertain. For the chances were that Stanley Would never wed again. Horace Leigh arrived in London, Who now, as the honored guest Of one of England's noblemen, Was taking a few days rest. He was seated alone one morning, Having just received his mail. But the first lines that he looked at Had made him turn quite pale. 'Twas a letter from his lawyer, Dated the day he sailed, Informing him how his character, That day had been assailed. For he had been named by Stanley, Though wrongfullv, of course, As co-respondent in his suit For an absolute divorce. Then he opened his New York paper. Published the following day, Which told how the co-respondent Had secretly gone away. It told how Stanley's- aunt Had intercepted mail, Written by Leigh to Stanley's wife. But addressed to Laura Dale ; And that she'd often seen her niece Board the New York train, But at last she told her nephew When she would go again. And then her husband and his friend Watched her and saw her go. And meet her guilty lover At his New York studio. And then in another column, He happened quite by chance. To read that Lester Stanley Had sailed awav to France. 38 RETRIBUTION. Then as he placed his paper down, And leaned back in his chair, He thought of the awful burden That Sybel now must bear. Then taking his pen commenced to write, For it had crossed his mind To write to a friend in Paris, Stanley's whereabouts to find. For he felt it was his duty To find him and explain, The cause of all the trouble, that Had given them such pain. Then he wrote to tell his lawyer, He'd return before the trial, And gave him full permission To publish his denial. Two weeks had passed and the doctor Stood by his patient's side, And watched in anxious silence For the fever to subside. For he knew that the looked for crisis Was drawing very nigh, That must decide unerringly If he would live or die. But soon his feeble pulse gave signs That strength and skill and care, Had gained a final victory For the stranger lying there ; For now those hours of raving That made his poor nurse weep, Had given way to helplessness To calm and peaceful sleep. But when the doctor left that morn And reached the hotel door, A gentleman accosted him Whom he had not met before. The stranger said he had waited Most anxiously to learn, The condition of his patient Which caused him great concern. RETRIBUTION. 39 Then the kind old docter told him, How pleased he was at last To tell that the dreaded crisis Had been so safely passed. "Although", he said, "he's very weak, And needs our utmost care, For even the least excitement Is more than he can bear. So if you wish to see your friend, Or even communicate, I would advise you for his good, A week at least to wait." Then the stranger asked the doctor If he would be so kind, As to bear a letter to his friend, When he improved in mind. As a matter of great importance Called him far away, Otherwise he would be pleased A week or more to stay. Then the doctor took the letter, Remarking, half in jest, "I hope it bears good news for him, For his mind seems much distressed.' The stranger smiled and said he hoped 'T would act as a magic charm, In hastening his friend's recovery, Rather than do him harm. That evening the nurse was standing Beside the patient's bed, When he awoke from his long sleep And tried to raise his head. She saw that his reason had returned, Although he seemed to stare, As he asked in a very feeble voice How long he had been there. Then tenderly she raised his head, • As a mother would her child, And answered him evasively Though pleasantly she smiled. 40 RETRIBUTION. But ever as that gentle nurse Would move from place to place, It seemed it must have been in dreamr. That he had seen that face. A week had passed since the crisis — The doctor was pleased to find His patient seated in a chair, And much improved in mind. ■ Then seating himself he told him, How near he'd been to death, And how the nurse and he had watched Expecting his last breath. Then, as he rose to take his leave, And bid them both adieu, He thought of the letter as he said "I've something here for you, 'Twas handed me by a stranger, Who said he was your friend, And bid me say how grieved he felt And hoped you soon would mend." But when Stanley took that letter How little did he suppose, That it was penned by one he thought The worst of earthly foes. With trembling hands, he opened it And then commenced to read, But every line seemed like a stab, That made his poor heart bleed. It showed him how he'd been misled. By a wicked woman's hate, But that he soon must learn the truth, Although perhaps too late. Then it gave the truthful story, How the whole thing had occurech^ And most bitterly it censured him For judging his wife unheard. And when he had finished reading, He bowed his head in shame, For he knew that his own folly Was principally to blame. RETRIBUTION. 41 His nurse had watched him read As though she feared to find That it would have some bad effect Upon her patient's mind. For she also had two letters. Of which he did not know, That were addressed to Stanley, And received some time ago. But now, she saw, his mind was strong; She felt somewhat relieved, And told him about the letter.-. And when they were receive The first was from the architect, And was quite common place, As it bore no reference to his wife, Nor the impending case. But the second was from his lawyer, Stating that he had been To the mansion, as instructed, And described that painful = It also told him that his wife, Lookirg quite sick and pale, Had called at his office later, Accompanied by Laura Dale. And, also, that his generous gir: Indignantly was spurned, And even the jewels he'd given h ; She also had returned. •• But now," he said, "she is living In comparative distress. As Madam Sybel Dunton, At the following address." Then Stanley bowed his head _ As tears coursed down his And involuntary sobbed aloud As he calmly tried to speak. For he would like to know what days The boats for America sail, For he would try to write at To catch the New York ma 42 RETRIBUTION. His nurse had watched his silent grief, Although she kept from sight, Until he asked for pen and ink As he would try and write. But his weakness was far greater Than he had even thought, For he found he could not trace a line When they to him were brought. But his nurse saw his dilemma, And kindly asked if she Could be of service to him, In his present difficulty. Then he thanked her for her kindness, And asked if she would write A letter for him that he wished To mail before the night. Then he told her his sad story, How he had been deceived, By evidence against his wife Which he, till now, believed. " But now," he said, '■ I am convinced That she is good and true, For that is what I wished to write, But leave it now to you." Then he handed her the letter, ♦ Remarking, with a sigh, 44 I wonder who has suffered most, My darling wife or I." . Then, as his nurse began to read, Her parent's eyes were closed, As he leaned back on his pillows And seemed as if he dozed. But he started as he heard a sob And with a cry most wild, She dropped the letter from her hand, And cried, " my child! my child !" Stanley at first was much amazed When he heard his nurse's cry, But waited patiently until Her excitement had passed by. RETRIBUTION. 45 Again she cried, "my child ! my child ! Shall we then meet at last, After so many weary years Of sorrow and search have passed ? " Then turning to her patient, said, " The night I came to you, I dreamt that I had found my child, And now that dream is true." Then in a calmer voice, she asked, Where he had met his wife, And if she ever told him About her parent's strife. He told her it was in England, At a little town in Kent, Where he was introduced to her And most of her life was spent, But about her early history, She knew but little more Than that her gallant father Had perished in the war. But they had learned quite recently From an unexpected source, About her mother's shameful act That led to her divorce. " Who was it," she asked, excitedly "That told you such a lie? For never has woman suffered More wrongfully than I." Then Stanley told her that his aunt, Dora Stanley, by name, Had told them on the very. night That she from England came. " Xo ! No ! Not Dora Stanley ! " She reverently said, " She was my darling's faithful nurse, And she, poor girl is dead. She would have proved my innocence, Could she have testified, But on the eve of the trial, Most mysteriously she died. 44 RETRIBUTION. But the woman who falsely swore Against me at the trial. Was head nurse at the hospital, Whose name was Barbra Lyle. She was one of the Red Cross nurses, That served in Singapore, Where the Colonel went for treatment After the Afghan war. But that was before we were married, And I was not aware That she had tried to win his love, While he was a patient there. But after that she followed us, Wherever our regiment went. But little did I suspect her then Of any base intent. But I found out that her motive Was first to ruin me, Then try to gain my husband's love t As soon as he was free." Stanley had turned as white as death, And shook in every limb For that same villainous woman Had also imposed on him. It was plain, that very woman Who acted so mean, so vile, In trying to ruin his own fair wife Was this same Barbra Lyle. She had seen his advertisements, And knowing his aunt was dead, Had cunningly devised the scheme To write to him instead. But he vowed that he would punish her. The law should take its course, As a retribution long delayed For causing her divorce. Then Stanley grasped his nurse's hand, And kissed her sad, sweet face, As she blessed the day that Providence Had sent him to that place. RETRIBUTION. 45 But later that day a letter Was sent forth like the dove That should bear the olive branch of peace, And a mother's fervent love; Bidding poor Sybel's heart rejoice, For soon they'd meet again, Trusting that future happiness Would banish all their pain. The rest of that evening passed In a very quiet way, For Stanley sadly needed rest, After such a day. But when the doctor called next morn, He seemed an altered man, As he sat and talked quite cheerfully About his future plan. For Sybel's mother and himself, Now felt a like suspense, And hoped to complete arrangements To leave there three days hence. Later that morning a carriage Stood waiting at the door, As Stanley, assisted by his nurse, Walked through the corridor. But suddenly he heard his name Spoken familiarly, And turning, saw the stalwart form Of the artist, Horace Leigh. Their meeting was quite friendly, And no one would suppose, That scarce a day had passed since he lought him the worst of foes. But Stanley smiled at Leigh's surprise, As he introduced his nurse, And remarked how oft a blessing Results from our greatest curse. Leigh accepted his invitation To dine with them that day, For Stanley had much to tell him Before he went away. 46 RETRIBUTION. Sybel sat alone one evening, Weary in min,d and limb, And vainly tried to read a book. To divert her thoughts from him — From him, who vowed at the altar The day she became his bride. That he would love and cherish her Whatever might betide. But now she was weary of waiting To learn the court's decree, That was to declare her innocence Or. set her husband free. The hearing had been again postponed Until a week that day, On the motion of Stanley's counsel As his client was away. But as she sat and pondered, Waiting for Laura Dale; The kind, old janitress appeared With Madam Dunton's mail. 'Twas the first that Sybel had received, And she gave a hasty glance, To see where the letter came from But saw it was from France. She had heard that Stanley went there, But could not understand, That the letter should be written In an unknown lady's hand. For she had not corresponded With any lady there, And although she longed to open it. Still felt she did not dare. But as she gazed in wonderment. She heard the welcome voice Of Laura singing some old song, That bids the heart rejoice. There seemed to be in that old song, As Laura approached the door. Something strangely prophetic. Unknown, unfelt before. RETRIBUTION But Laura shared her friend's surprise. When she knew from whence it came. But wisely suggested opening it And see the writer's name. Then following her friend's advice. She tore the seal apart And read aloud, the last few words Which caused them both to start. And then they read the letter through As tears of joy fell fast, For now her innocence was known, And all her sorrow passed. For not alone her husband's love To her had been returned, But she would know a mother's love. For which her heart had yearned. For now it was quite evident, That her poor mother's name In some mysterious manner, Was cleared of all its shame. For Sybel knew that her husband Must now be satisfied, That her mother was never guilty. And that Aunt Dora lied. For soon she would meet that woman, Aunt Dora, face to face, And repudiate her statement, Concerning her disgrace. But still it seemed some mystery Shrouded the whole affair, As he wished for strictest secrecy Until he met her there. Within three days they would arrive, And he would not be slow To vindicate her tarnished name, That all the world nwht know. Then he named his lawyer's office As the most befitting place Where they could meet and freely talk Over the whole, sad case. 48 RETRIBUTION. For he recognized, most fully, now, How heartless he had been In judging her so hastily, On what he'd heard and seen. But those days of anxious waiting, Had now come to an end, And Sybel, attired becomingly, Arrived there with her friend. She had not noticed the carriage, Still standing at the door, From which a lady and gentleman Had alighted just before. But when she reached the office, And lightly touched the bell, She heard her own name spoken By that voice she knew so well. But as she stepped into the room, Her mother's look of pain Had vanished as she now beheld Her darling once again. And Stanley's heart was filled with joy, Though tears streamed down his face, To see that mother and her child Locked in that fond embrace But after a moment's silence, Her mother said, " my child, Next to the joy of meeting you, Is to see you reconciled To the man I have learned to love, Yes, even as my son, Who asks you to forgive him for The wrong that he has done." Then Sybel turned to her husband, But could not speak a word, For she knew that he was blameless For it was she who erred, Then Stanley clasped her to his breast, And wiped away her tears, For joy had succeeded sorrow . And banished all her fears. RETRIBUTION. 49 Stanley's lawyer was much surprised, At what had taken place, But was pleased at the happy ending Of their wretched case. But he urged his client strongly, To show no leniency To the woman who had caused them Such pain and misery. And when they left that office, It was to go direct Down to the mansion, for they knew That she would not suspect That Stanley, his wife and mother, Could thus so strangely be Traveling there that very night To expose her infamy. But as Stanley neared the mansion, He was surprised to see So many empty carriages In that vicinity. But Aunt Dora was entertaining A number of friends that night, And the place was gaily lighted, Presenting a pretty sight. But when his carriage halted In front of the mansion door, The footman stared in wonderment As his master's face he saw. But Stanley told him, hurriedly, Not to announce his name, As he wished to surprise the hostess, When two policemen came. Aunt Dora stood gaily talking About her nephew's case, Telling how keenly she had felt This terrible disgrace. When suddenly her attention Was directed by a guest To a couple who had entered That were most strangely dressed. 50 RETRIBUTION. The gentleman wore a muffler, Which partly hid his face, While the lady wore a heavy veil Of some dark colored lace. But Aunt Dora moved toward them, Assuming a pleasant smile, Until she heard the lady say, " Yes, that is Barbra Lyle." Then the man threw off his muffler, Which had so well disguised The features of Lester Stanley, While the guests looked on surprised. Barbra Lyle had staggered backward, And dropped into a chair As she recognized the voice and face Of her hated rival there. Then Stanley turned to the guests, And told them what delight It gave him to see so many friends Assembled there that night. "In fact," he said, " it seems that fate Has willed that it should be, In order that you may listen To that woman's infamy." Then he told how Sybel's mother During years of misery, Had borne the loss of child and name, Through that woman's perjury. " But, strange to say, she wrote to me, Soon after we were wed, As my father's only sister, Well knowing she was dead. And then to repay our kindness, As soon as she came here, She almost wrecked our happiness, By making it appear That my wife was unduly intimate With the artist, Horace Leigh, Whom she knew was kindly painting, A large portrait of me." RETRIBUTION. 5 1 And then as he finished speaking, He turned to Barbra Lyle, Who sat there pale and trembling But offering- no denial. For her nerve had quite forsaken her, For little she thought the time Would ever come, when she would have To answer for her crime. But now she knew it was useless To deny a single word Of the charges brought against her, Which every one had heard. But as he advanced toward her, She began to weep and wail, And begged he would not have her Taken away to jail. For she had seen two policemen Advancing to where he stood, And she, as well as many more At once, supposed he would. But Sybel had prevailed on him, To let the wretch go free, Providing that she was willing To leave the country. Although he did not say a word, What his intentions were; But in a most commanding tone, He told her to prepare To leave this place immediately, As the hour was growing late, And her escort, meaning the officers, Did not much care to wait. The wretched woman looked around Upon that lovely scene, But not one look of sympathy, On any face was seen. Then, as she rose to leave the room, She overheard a jest, About her being sent to jail To show them how she dressed. 52 RETRIBUTION. Then with a look of cold disdain, She hurriedly passed them by, As though they were inferiors And unworthy of reply. But some of the guests were leaving, While others in the hall Were waiting for their carriages That soon for them would call. Just then some strange commotion, Outside the door was heard, And several went with Stanley, To see what had occurred. But soon a footman entered, In search of the police, And the already great excitement, Seemed rapidly to increase. And then a solemn procession, Came slowly in at the door, And laid their lifeless burden down, Full length upon the floor. One look on those upturned features, That wore no frown nor smile, And each frightened guest had recognized, The face of Barbra Lyle. A hurried investigation of The windows in her room, Told the story faithfully How she had met her doom. For she had weighed her chances Of going to jail for years, Against her chance of liberty, If she overcame her fears. Some thought it an act of suicide, But plainly her intent Was to escape the officers, By making that mad decent. A coachman had seen her falX And hurried to where she lay, But when he procured assistance, Her life had passed away. RETRIBUTION. 53 Thus death had dropped the curtain Over her evil past, And in her seeming" triumph, Retribution came at last. When the papers appeared next day, The town with joy went wild, To know that Stanley and his wife Had come back reconciled. But when they read of Barbra Lyle, Who tried to plan their divorce, Meeting" with such a tragic death, There were few who felt remorse. But it seemed almost impossible, To find a happier pair Than Lester Stanley and his wife, At that time really were. But soon it became apparent, That even his great wealth Could never again restore her To her former health. For those weeks of untold suffering, Had weakened her young heart, And very soon the time must come When they would have to part. For several months she lingered, And then at last she died, And many thought that Stanley Would soon rest by her side. Hei mother returned to Paris, As soon as ever she could, For she felt that nursing the sick Was her sphere for doing good. Then Stanley closed the mansion, Having sent the servants away, And no one here has seen him Since that very day. But still there are many who think, That some day we shall learn That Staniey has outlived his grief, And will again return. 54 AN OLD SEXTON'S STORY. ^\n ®ld d)exton'§ J)top\j. I stood by an open grave one day, A grave just newly made, The sexton resting from his toil Stood leaning on his spade ; And as he wiped his furrowed brow, He cast his spade aside And asked me if I sought the grave Of the fair young suicide. I told him 'twas by chance alone That I had strayed that way; That as a stranger in the town I came but yesterday ; And as to the "fair young suicide", To whom he had referred, I had not read of the sad event Nor of it had I heard. Then he volunteered to tell me, The story which had led This young girl to her ruin, Who now is lying dead. "In a college town like this", he said, "It is sad indeed to see, So many fair young victims Of inequality. Her folks and I were neighbors, At the time when she was born, That's twenty years ago last month, How swiftly time has gone ! I recollect her leaving school, And starting in to work, Unmindful of the evils, That in those factories lurk. Her folks you see were very poor, And each one had to bear In helping to support the home, His or her own share. AN OLD SEXTON'S STORY. 55 But somehow for a factory girl She seemed quite out of place, She had such fa ^inating wa ys. And such a winning - face. I watched her grow to womanhood With 'most a father's pride, And hoped some day to see her Some worthy fellow's bride. But she met a rich young student, From a place somewhere out west, Who lavished wealth upon her And had her richly dressed. He came on here to study law And those who know him say, He might have been a shining light Had he not been so gay. The night they met 'twas at a ball, A regular swell affair, And somehow with a lady friend She happened to be there. But time went on and their intimacy Grew apace, no doubt ; Then in a splendid carriage, He often drove her out. I may be hard upon her folks To say they were to blame, For they surely must have seen that she Was drifting down to shame. One night a stylish automobile Was standing at her door, A thing not quite in harmony With people who are poor. And then "Dame Gossip's" bitter tongue * Began to whisper things, About the costly clothes she wore And her many diamond rings. y $6 AN OLD SEXTON'S STORY. Then in the early summer time She gave up factory life. And some supposed that she'd become This wealthy student's wife. But it seldom happens that a girl Who sells herself so cheap, Attains to so much happiness ; They mostly sorrow reap ! And so it was with that poor girl, Her weeks of pleasure flew, Almost unheeded in their flight Though they must end she knew. For soon, alas ! the autumn Avinds Will strew the earth with leaves, And soon the "Harvester" will be Gathering in his sheaves. Now the college year was ended, And ere the setting sun, The usual stir and exodus Of students had begun ; Many who had graduated Must now forever part, Leaving behind in ruins Many a loving heart. But there was one, who lingered In the city day by day, As though he lacked the courage, To tear himself away. Or was it conscience smote him When he thought of the ruined life, Of the young confiding woman He dared not make his wife ? But what of that young woman, Was she prepared to part ? Would it pain her to relinquish The great love of her heart ? 57 Let us ask of the silent chamber, Where she took the fatal drug ; Let us ask of the empty vial. That was found upon the rug ip". Let us ask of that living witness, Who clasped her in his arms ; That terror-stricken student, Who had robbed her of her charms ? But ever to that question There comes the sad reply, Rather than life without him She had preferred to die. Rather than live with the knowledge That another would be his bride, That soon she'd be forgotten Like a flower that is cast aside ; Rather than live a factory life, And suffer the scoffs and jeers, She drank the draught that gave her Relief from scorn and tears. But see, here comes the funeral, Just passing through the gate, So if you wish to see the end You'll not have long to wait. I'm told that the velvet casket Was the best he could procure, And many people seem to think That he could do no more. But just so sure as I'm alive, There yet will come a time, When men who ruin lives like hers, Must suffer for their crime ! Then social inequality, And wealth and family pride, Will not be taken as excuse, To cast such love aside ! A TRAMP S STORY. $9 ^\ (Iframp's (