The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1874-08-22

thinking for some time that we were
very much unsuted to each other. OF
course feel sure that we shall always
be friends, but it seems useless to try
to live amicably as husband and wife.
Do you not agree with me?"
"Oh, another sulky fit" he comment
ed, inaudibly.
He went on: Believing that you feel
as do, have maze some preparations
for the event we contemplate----"
"Not I-oh, not II" came in broken
murmurs from those frozen lips.
He paused but not a word followed.
81 have caused deeds to be prepared,
which will be ready tomorrow morn
ing, preliminary to the separation ask
for. Your comfort in the future is well
provided for. l have settled upon you
handsome income. l hope you will be
happy" .....
He paused, and sprang startled to her
side as he saw her slide slowly to the
floor. When he reached her, she lay
there cold and still like one dead.
A pang rent the heart of the man
who had caused this suffering. He rails
ed her in his arms and bore her away to
her chamber.
after time, with proper restora-
tives, she recovered; but she lay cold
and still, and silent. Observing that
she did not attempt to speak, ,and seemed
to wish to be silent, he went away and
left her alone in her misery. 1t was
cruel soothing, but perhaps the wisest
course he could have pursued. Left
alone, she hugged her grief to her
breast, and, at last, wearied our with
her struggle sobbed herself to sleep.
Life seemed very dark to her, and hope
dead.
Happily, her sleep was almost dream
less. She did not start, or tremble, or
cry out, only grieyed, patient, quiv-
ering sob, from time to time, escaped
her lips.
Late at night, when Mr.. Morgan
returned, sho was sleeping quietly,
and he commented, as he stole away,
upon her insensibility and want of feel
ing.
When they met in the morning no al.
lusion was made to the conversation of
the past evening.
81 will make no opposition" she
thought. "Let him work his will,
Heaven forbid that, if he has ceased to
love me, should stand between him
and freedom and happiness"
So sheresolved on the perfect submis-
sion which had become habitual with
her. But the day was very sad one.
At five O'Clock her husband was expect
ed back from the city, to which he went
daily to attend to his business
She tremulously awaited him, timid
and fearful, for their old relation SEEM
ed to have died out, and she knew not
how, all at once, to adopt herself to an
other. She waited, and the clock tick
ed. The hour struck and passed, al
most unheeded at first. and then with a
vague feeling of terror and alarm that
every moment doubled and intensified.
Time dragged slowly and painfully
along. In vain she repeated to herself
that, feeling that this was no longer a
home, she no longer a wife, he was pur~
posely prolongng his absence. But she
could not cheat her fears. They grew
and grew, till at last when, in the dark
ness, the road by which he was wont
to return became invisible, she threw
herself upon sofa in an agony of ter
ror. No one approached the house.
Once in while she stole to the gate
always vainly. the late summer dark.
ness fell, and she was still alone. The
clock pealed the hours-ten had just
struck.
There was sound of voces-of foot
steps. She sprang to the door, and as
it was flung open sad procession stood
upon The threshold, and in its midst,
covered with mud and streaming blood,
they carried the body of Mr.. Morgan.
There had been a terrible railway
aecident-many had been killed; few,
like Mr.. Morgan-bruised, MANNED,
still breathing, but insensible-yet lived
on, bearing with them sad memories of
the collision.
Hours, days, weeks passed and he
lived still, hopelessly dependent upon
the unwearied, soothing care of the
woman he had condemned. No refer
ence had ever been made to the inten-
tlon he had announced, but it was al
ways in the memory of both.
Mr.. Morgan no longer claimed her
attendance as right, but thanked her,
feebly, but gratefully, for the Kindness