Middletown transcript., 1874-08-01
she wa. frightened, and so sent for her

Alice went to the room where her hus-
band was, and found him lying on the
sofa, apparently asleep. Going up to
him she laid her hand upon his face and
tried to rouse him. He looked up at her
with stupid stare, and, for the first time
in his life, answered her harshly and un-
kindly She had not the least suspicion
Of the truth, and thinking that his mind
must be wandering talked to him tender
ly and soothingly, but he answered only
with bitter, taunting words, and by-and-
by his breath came to her, tainted with
the fumes of strong drink. Then, sud-
denly, the truth flashed to her mind. Her
husband was drunk Drunk he whose
life had always been model of upright
ness, and upon whose purity she would
have staked her soul. What an ending
for her night Of pleasure! She was not
hsartless woman, and in spite Of all her
waywardness she truly loved her husband.
For months she had been beside herself
with vanity and excitement, and the de-
sire for admiration and homage had over
come every other consideration. But that
night, as she saw her husband lying there
in his degradation, and realized that this
was the harvest of her own sowing, her
eyes opened and she saw the folly of her
course Ia its true light. She never once
thought of blaming her husband. Free
from the evil influences that had held her
in thrall, she was generous and ready to
see and own her faults, and shuddoringly
she admitted to herself that her own dis
content and wrong-doing, and that alone,
had been the cause of her husbands down
fall Back and forth across her chamber
she paced, sick at heart with the destiny
she had brought upon herself.
From that night Gilbert Drew's course
was downward. There was set of dis
sipatsd fellows who had been trying to ia.
duce him to join their number, and, hav-
ing once got him under their influence,
they did not give him up. Whenever he
appeared in the street they were constant
ly meeting him and inviting him into
drinking saloons and holding the tempt
ing cup to his lips. And he needed them
and in few short months fell from his
high position down, down to the level of
a common drunkard. 1t was Alice's turn
to watch and wait now, and what long,
lonely vigils she kept, She went no more
into society, and the calls Of her fashiona-
BILE friends were unrsturned and the invi-
tations they sent her declined, till in a
short time they left her to herself She
grew wan and hollow-eycd, and none can
know how much of agony and remorse she
suffered. Still she never complained, but,
feeling that her sufferings were merited
she grew patient iu her grief and loneli-
ness.
Finally, for two whole days Gilbert was
absent from home; then there came to
Alice letter directed in his hand writing
With trembling hands she broke the seal
and read:
"AIicE II have left the city, and you will
probably never see Inc again. We are beggars,
and the house in which we have lived will be
sold in a week. Two years ago we had quite a
nice little fortune of our own but we have wasted
it-you by your extravaganza, and by dissipa-
ton. Had you been contcnted away from this
accursed city we might be happy now. But
will not lay all the blame on you. We have
both done wrong. 1t was the mistake of our
lives that we ever left the old farm. As it is,
am drunken bloat, and you will be better of
without me. Goodbye, Alice. God knows
loved you once GILBERT
The worst had come, at last, and with
a face white and rigid as a corpse, Alice
staggered back to the sofa, and lay there
for long time in state of unconscious
ness. But the future must be met, and
after the first shock was over, she reused
herself and tried to answer the question,
hop ?" 1t was necessary that she
should find something to do without de-
lay, or she would be homeless and starv-
ing and after several Intellectual attempts
at something better. she was obliged to
accept the only work that offered itself,
and that was plain sewing that paid her
but small returns. She hired little room
in tenement house, and the struggle for
daily bread began. 1t was a sad and des-
oate life she led then. Sho never went
out except to the store for work, and she
seldom spoke to any one but her employ
er, unless it was now and then a kind
word to a beggar-child. In her room, at
its one window that looked out on bare,
bleak walls, she sat and stitched day after
day, while her form grew thinner, hel
face paler, and hope died out of her heart
In this way the time passed on. and week.
heightened into months and months into
years; still no tidings came of her absent
husband.
The third winter that came to Alice in
her humbled home seemed to her colder
and drearier than any that had passed be-
fore. The long confinement began to tel
upon her health, and at last she was real
ly i'll. She had never been able to carr
anything more than was necessary for hei
daily expenses; and now, with the pros
pect Of sickness staring her in the face
she often shuddered as she thought wha
the future might have in store for her
One morning, not being able to work, sh,
was sitting by her scanty fire thinking o
these things. The memory that hae
haunted her all these years came to hel
then--the memory Of the FIRST three year,
of her married life, that had been SO brigh
and happy. She thought of the pleasan
home she had then epioyed. with its coz,