Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1872-09-14

to talk, and she seemed peculiarly
silent tonight, and absent as well
as silent.
Her eyes were brighter, too, than
| common-her face little flushed
He was too generous, too unselfish
a man to begrudge her even a hap
piness in which he had no part; but
something in her abstraction filed
him with uneasiness. The uneasi-
ness was not decreased when, reach
ing home a little before the usual
hour the following afternoon, he
met Stephen Halliburton just leaY-
/ ing the house, nor when he found
| George with the same frightened
eyes and heightened color as the
night before.
That was the beginning of John
RandalPs trouble.
II was not so much common jeal-
oHsy-a mans instinct of revolt at
another mans admiration of his
handsome wife-as it was q fear
a desperate, death-like fear-that
| George needed something he could
not give to make her happy. He
could never give her lUxuFies. He
| could never say such things as he
| fancied Stephen Halliburton must
be able to say to woman. But he
| loved her so o, heavens! he loved
her so! How could he endure that
anything should come between
| them?
al won't wrong her and tease her
with suspicious" he said to himself,
in the depth of the night. ''Ill just
fight my way the best l can against
it. I'll keep on steady. Perhaps
she'll see it right by-and-by." -
Poor fellow! he did not realize
how his own determination implied
the dreary thought that her heart
was turned from him. He raised
himself on his arms to look at her
as she slept; and all through what
followed he retained the pure, calm
face, as it pressed the pillow, whi-
tened by the moonlight that glinted
the frost on the window-panes and
aOoded the room.
She seemed colder to him after
this, and he kept silent.
He knew that she met Halliburton
at her aunt's; he knew that she
went to the seaside the ensuing
summer, for a weeks visit to Mrs.
Paul Appleton, there he was also.
'
ing a life apart from him; and once
that was when the iron entered
his soul, when he went to her desk,
a present he had made her during
their engagement-fo for a sheet of
note paper, and found it locked, and
asked her carelessly enough for the
key, she flushed and said she would
get the paper for him.
But he kept true to the promise
he had made himself. lie kept on
lighting his way against it as best
he could" hoping, with sick heart,
that she "might see it right by-and-
by"
The months wore away. The
second year of their marriage was
nearly completed. John had been
very careful-as careful as George
herself-that there should be no
outward and visible sign of misun-
derstanding or GOODNESS between
them. No suspicion had come to
any that the second year of their
married lite had been less happy
than the first. Nor had he ever
omitted to give her any little indul-
gence within his power. He had
prepared surprise for her on the
coming anniversary of their we'd
ding during the year.
The anniversary fell on Sunday;
and so their little cOmmemOratiOn
of the day must come the preceding
evening. No allusion had been
made to any celebration by either
of them; but John felt sure, some
way, that she could not let the time
pass without some sign. For his
own part he had half resolved to at
tempt some explanation of their es-
arrangement. Anything, he thought,
would be better than this chilling
reserve. With his mind divided |
between the anticipation of relief !
and Jealous dread, he went to the
counting-house that Saturday night |
to receive his money. The cashier
looked up with certain embarrass-
ment at his approach.
'tAh, Mr.. Randan-the accumufa- !
tion you have left in my hands? To |
be sure! And, by the way, Mr..
Halliburton spoke to me that there !
were to be some changes made, and |
there he is himself, SIR"
John Randall turned, with feel |
ing akin to desperation, to meet his |
employer. 1t had gone through |
him like thunderbolt, as the CASH |
ier spoke, that he was to be dis |
placed. Stephen Halliburton simply |
said, as John faced him: "I'll not |
detain you now, Mr.. Randall. l |
shall call this evening to let you |
know of the changes 1 feel obliged |
to make"
And the owner bowed and left |
him.
With the money in his nerveless
hands, John Randall walked home |
ward like a man daZed. He was to |
lose his place. For what reason, he |
could not conjecture. But to lose |
it, was to lose reputation, courage |
He had never imag- |
ined such possibility as that. The |
money that he carried-he should |
not dare to make present of it to |
George now. He might have to |
wait for other employment. II |
might be needed for their bare eve
ry-day need, before he got work |
again. A chill like death struck to /
his soul.
George, evidently, had not over
looked the recurrence of their we'd |
ding day. The cosy rooms of the /
cottage all wore a little air of fes-
tiVity. Some slender vases held the /
gleanings of the flower-beds; chry-
santhemums-blood-red, white and /
purple-verbenas, and scarlet gera-
NUNS.
She came to the door that night
to meet him-one of her Company"
dresses on, some knots of velvet
80 hav- .DU11v-
give glow and brightness to her
white skin. He took her hand; she
raised her face, and with a wild
heart-bOund he kissed it, as he had
not for years before. She was COM
ing back to him again. That was
the thought that thrilled him. Her |
such it had been-
was at an end. She was his once
morel And then, close upon his
new happiness, came the dreary re-
collection of his lost situation. He /
thrust the money in his pocket. By
and-by he would tell her all.
'TYoa won't mind waiting supper
for an hour, will you, John?" she
asked as she led him in. . L am 60
ing to give you something nice, by
and-by, and-I think Mr.. Halliburton
will be in"
John Randall's blood froze once
more. 1t was not fer him, then,
that all these preparations were
made. George had never spoken
Mr.. Haliburton's name to him be-
fore. He could feel that she was
as she did so.
81 want you to dress, john" she
added, cOaxinQiV al have laid eve /
out for you"
1t seemed to him that he would
have turned upon her but that he
felt En hrnEan hx- the 4bonnht Of