Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1870-09-13
A Wifa's Story.
BY MRS. EMMA GARRISON JONES.

L
baby; rosy, dimpled, growing ba-
by, the crowning blessing of a moth
er's life. And Tom was model for
all husbands, so true and tender and
thoughtful. Yet my friends had op-
posed my marriage, particularly my
old father.
"Better marry the Rev. Nathan
Hargrave, Louise, and let rattle-brain-
ed Tom Danvers alone" he said
You're too hot-headed and hasty to
marry fellow like him."
But | did not love the Rev. Nathan
Hargrave, and | did love rattle-brain
ed Tom Danvers, and being spoiled
child and wilful one in the bargain,
| had it all my own way. | married
Tom, in spite of all their opposition.
"And now, father" l said three
months after, when the old man was
over to visit US, "don't you see that |
was right? Tom is Just the best hus-
band that any woman ever had, and
haven't had heartache since mar
ried HIM, notwithstanding all your
prophecies"
"Dont sing before you're out O.
the woods, Louise; your hour of trial
hasn't come yet. Toms a good fel-
low, and | like him and am glad to
see you so well contented, but I'm
afraid it won't last always. By-and-
by Tom may fall into some of his old
habits, and then you'll fire up, and
raise domestic whirlwind. Hey, Lou
ise ?"
"But Tom won't fall into his old
habits" | protested hotly, "ba has
promised me never to touch & drop
of liquor again, and no man could be
steadier than he's been since our
marriage. He'll never fall into his
old habits again, father"
"God grant it,-but, little girl" he
continued tonderly, his eyes filling
with tears as he patted my cheek, 'all
men are exposed to temptation, and
few hold out to the end. If Tom
should ever forget himself, don't let
that hasty temper of yours get the
better Of your heart. Remember a
woman can do all things by love and
entreaty but bitterness and upbraid-
ing drives man like Tom to desper-
alton. God shield You from it, little
one, but if ever your hour of trial
does come, be patient and tender and
forgiving"
But it had not come and never
would. Tom kept his promise like a
hero, and turned his back upon all
the gay companions and resorts of
his bachelor life devoting all his ieis-
ure time to me. And when baby
came, he followed me like my shadow.
How happily those winter evenings
went by They come back to me over
all the weary track of wasted years
| can see the broad hearthstone, the
blazing fire and baby's crib in one
corner, just below the canary's cage,
and Toms chair close beside my sew
ing-stand. How happy We werel
In the midst Of all this, one wintry
afternoon, l received a note from Tom.
Louise" he wrote, a send you a
pair Of canvas-backs and some fish
A couple of my old friends are in
town, and | shall bring them round to
dinner. Get up something nice, please,
and look your prettiest. We shall
be there at FIVE o'clock sharp"
| went to work in a futter of ex-
citement. Baby being considerate
and well-disposed child, at once be.
took herself to sleep and left me un.
molested. | cooked the canvas-bac&s
to q charm, and fried the fish as brown
as berries; | made salads and sauces
and got up the daintiest kind of q
dessert, winding up with a steaming
urn of Mocha. Then | laid my table
with the spotless damask and delicate
silver and china that was my moth
er's wedding present. Ten minutes
of FIVE and everything was ready, anG
myself ali dressed in my maroon silk
with the lace ruf1les and pearl orna
ments, Toms favorite dress. | sa
down and watched the little Frencl
clock, so dreadfully anxious lest some
thing should spoil or be overdone.-
The minutes wore slowly away, a
last the hour struck. | sat breathless
my heart in my mouth, but they d.
not come. Five minutes ten
arose and went to the window. Th,
afternoon was dreary, with low, lead
en- clouds, and chill driving wind
Bank clerks were hurrying homeward
J why did not Tom come | watched
until l was chilled to the bone, then
t hurried back to the kitchen to turI
my dishes. Halfpast five, six O'Clock
seven, and no sign of them. The can
: vas-backs were spoiled with cooking
= the fish fairly leaked, and my daint
? dessert and delicious Mocha not wort
a farthing,-I could have cried wit
. vexation. Not once since our nal
, riage had Tom remained out even S
/ much as minute beyond his time
} what could this mean?
!, The night set in dark and stormy
y with sharp, freezing mist before tn
k driving wind. Baby awoke, and
c took her up stairs and put her to bee
b and resumed my watch, a feeling c
y terrible anxiety getting the better c
e my vexation On account of my spoile
b dinner. Something had surely happer
k ed to Tom, or he would have com
/. home. How dreadfully tedious tn
J. hours were! The sleet beat agains
O the windows, and the wind waile
0 with desolate, moaning sound.
Y grew nervous and affrighted, sittin
4 all alone. Ten o'clock and no Tol
still. Baby awoke, and her imper;
d tive cry called me up stairs; lulle
If her again and then watched and wal
e cd. At last it was midnight.
t, | heard the bells striking all owe
It town, simultaneous with the silver
% chime of our little French clock
y Twelve o'clock and Tom had NJ
e come. A feeling of awful fear can
s over me. What if he had been murC
y cred and robbed on some lionel
II rtroot Q some harm had snralv hefa