Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1872-10-18
SELECTED STORY
From Peterson's Magazine.
WHAT CAME OF MY JEALOUSY
A PRETTY LITTLE STORY.

IL Was tntSty, yct swell, CepleInDel
night. I can see the sky as it hung over ou
cottage home. starry blue, with here ant
there patch of white floating gossamer
and the harvest moon coming up and food
ing all the world with golden splerdor
remember how the crimson roses hung abuvf
the doorway, heavy with their own sweet
ness (; and what suggestive odors foated vi
from the flower beds in the dim, old garden
I can even remember the dress l wore, pure
white, because that was the dress in which
my husband loved me best. Does be love
me at all Or was it my yellow gold thai
won him?
Immediately after our marriage VIC wen
to Europe, where we rambled about for a
year OR two, wintering in Rome, spend
ing our summers amid the Alps. Then We
returned home. But the nomadic spirit was
still upon US, and We took what our own
country afforded in the way OF gypsy life,
In the midst Ct this wandering. in little
country town amid the lakes my first trouble
came. On the second day of our sojourn al
this little place, to which we had come
in accordance with my husbands wish, !
missed him He was fishing for trout, one
of our party suggested and in the after.
noon we strolled down toward the stream
Passing small cottage, we beard voices,
and soon something familiar made me glance
that way. There they stood, side by side,
my husband and woman-a young woman,
with glossy, raven hair passed on in
silence; but that night when my husband
returned and sought me, | was reserved
and cold. I refused to dance and would not
sing for him He followed me from place to
place, his eyes full of grave solicitude The
instant we were in our room he caught my
hand in his.
my darling" be said, what troubles
you p
For my life could not tell him. | was
afraid to let him know that [ doubted his
integrity.
Horace questioned, timidly, "do you
love me p s
His fine eyes opened wide with astonish-
ment. But he answered passionately:
"Love you? Ay, better than you will
ever know, Violet"
Ts..Did you ever-have you ever loved any
one elsey faltered.
Never, Violet, on my honor"
Il was happy, yet not entirely satisfied.
I was a woman. Eve ate the forbidden fruit
with all around her. ~
..Then who was it," faltered, ''that wo.
mani saw you with-this afternoon
"a He started, and flushed very red for mo-
ment, then he laughed.
.'Oh p be said, Jealous, are you Then
I am sure you love me. But, seriously,
dear, ought to have apologized for my
long absence. That woman was friend
old friend Of mine-she's in distress, and ]
had to help her. Are you satisfied p
| nodded my head in assent, yet my heart
was not quite at rest After that we went
down to our little sea-home, and settled into
sober, married life and for months oul
bliss was perfect; and then that dreadful
night came.
Horace had been gone alt day He did
not come home to dinner, as was his custom
SO after having ordered tea. dressed my
self and sat down on the rose-shaded porch
to await him. Sunset, dusk, evening; the
moon soaring up above the sea- Still he
did not come. Dinner and supper had bott
spoiled the flowers in my hair were fading
and I sick and weary with waiting and sus
pense. Horace had never remainee away
go long since our marriage What coule
detain him SO? Very slowly the night wen
| by. Twelve o'clock came, the moon dropped
out Of sight, leaving him in darkness. Al
owl hooted from the top Of the old willow
and the surf beat with weary sobblnt
sound.
worked myself up into perfect tremo
Of alarm and nervous excitement, or BY De
grees the old doubt, or fear or whatever
was, stole back to my mind. My husband
was. cruel to keep me in such suspense. d
did not love me. It never occurred to m
that he might be detained against bis viii
When. at last, the clock was on the strok'
of three, l caught the quick tramp Of horse
feet, but it did not greatly relieve me-
felt angry, and instead Of running down 7
meet him, as my woman's nature prompttee.
me, I yielded to my petted, Maynard viii !,
and kept my seat. He did not stop to tax
down the bars, but cleaned them with leap
When he reached the porch, he sprun
down. flushed and eager.
"Violet," be cried, the moment he caugh