American fiction -- 19th century; Dime novels; Popular literature
“Perhaps you can recall a concert or opera which you attended with
Doctor Matthewson as your escort, and perhaps, though that is not so
likely, you may remember the man who seemed to be asleep in the seat
behind the one you took when you entered the car, talking and laughing
so loudly that you drew to yourself the attention of all the passengers,
and especially the young man, who listened with feelings which can be
better imagined than described, while his _wife_ made light of him, and
allowed attentions and liberties such as no pure-minded woman would for
a moment have suffered from any man, and much less from one of Dr.
Matthewson’s character. I hardly know what restrained me from knocking
him down and publicly denouncing you, but shame and disgust kept me
silent, while words and glances which made my blood boil passed between
you two until _you_ were tired out and laid you head on his arm as
readily as you would have rested it on mine had I sat in his place. And
there I left you asleep, and I have never looked upon your face since
until to-night, when I found you at Miss Hastings’ door. After that
scene in the car I could not think of offering to share my poverty with
you. We were better apart, and I made a vow that never for an hour would
I live with you as my wife. The thing is impossible; but because I
dreaded the notoriety of an open rupture, and the talk and scandal sure
to follow an admission of the marriage, I kept quiet, trusting to chance
to work it out for me as it has done at last. And now that the worst has
come, I am ready to abide by it and am willing to bear the blame myself,
if that will help you any. The people in Rothsay will undoubtedly
believe you the injured party, and I shall let them do so. I shall say
nothing to your detriment except that it is impossible for us to live
together. I shall support you just as I have done, but I greatly prefer
that it should be in Holburton, rather than in Rothsay. It is the only
favor I ask, that you do not remain here.”
“And one I shall not grant,” was Josephine’s quick reply. “I like
Rothsay, so far as I have seen it, and here I shall stay. Do you think
that I will go back to Holburton, and bear all the malicious gossip of
that gossipy hole? Never! I’ll die first! You accuse me of being fond of
Dr. Matthewson, and so I am, and I like him far better than I ever liked
you, for he is a _gentleman_, while you are a knave and a hypocrite, and
that girl across the hall is as bad as you are;—I hate her,—I hate you
both!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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