Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-02-05
A WIDOW INDEED.
BY ELLA w. THOMPSON.

AN not going to deny at my time of
life, and in this age of the world, that
women are changeable. 1t has come to
be one Of the fixed facts that no one wastes
argument upon; nearly all women ac-
knowledge it at once, as | do; but what
we do contend for, with one voice, is, that
we never change without good reason.
When my friend Isabel Deane suddenly
sank from pinnacle of proud and happy
wifehood into desolate and heart broken
widow, it was change quite pre- per, and
to be expected, that she should turn her
face to the wall, and refuse to be com
forted for many days.
John Deane had been her lover, as well
as her husband as long as he lived, and
all the world quoted them as model of
married happiness. His death was sud
den, and all the more overwhelming to
the wife who had lain so serenely on his
strength that she had never need to put
out her own.
am an old maid myself, but I can
dimly imagine what ii might be to lean
ones heart and soul on good man for
many years, till ones bones were all bent
that way, and then how long it might take,
when the support was snatched away, to
grOpe lamely about the world till one
could learn to stand upright again. of
fered Isabel 40 consolation, because /
knew OF none! | just sat down with her
and her children day after day. When
she gave long wistful looks at the pOr-
trait of her husband which hung always
before her, [ made her look at the baby's
smile; but Wien [ saw her needle go hard
through her work for falling tears, could
only let the baby go, and cry with her
AS week dragged after week, Isabel be-
gan to take up the stitches she had dropped
in m0ther-lOve, and the real strength that
was in her, hitherto dormant, sprang up
full armed for her children. She had been
wounded well-nigh unto death, but halfa-
dozen soft little hands did much to soothe
and stroke away the pain.
Isabel will come round at last She
must have some idol, and, since the big
one is broken, she will set up three little
ones in its place, and the worship will
90 on in her temple all the same," [ said
10 a friend whom was visiting for week,
when Mr.. Deane had been dead about three
months. | had liked John Deane very
well myself If Isabel must marry at all
which seemed strangely necessary to her
happiness as it does to many other wo-
men, | rather preferred to have any one
else as her husband. He was wholly de-
voted to her, which was no more than she
deserved, and for a man he was very little
in the way. Nevertheless, | returned to
her with a certain inward comfort in the
thought that she would be more than
ever my friend, when she had fairly set
tied into the new groove that widowhoOd
would make for her. TO my blank sur
prise and CONSERVATION, | found her urg-
ing forward ali possible preparations to
go abroad with her children for an indefi-
mite time.
Her eyes were hard and cold as if she
had no more tears left, and the corners of
her mouth were sharply drawn as of one
in the fixed habit of enduring pain with
out mentioning it. Her manner had a
brisk abruptness that | had never noticed
before The household habits, which had
had become a little demoraliZed by the
presence of sorrow, had suddenly straight
cned into the utmost order. The servants
eyed me curiOusly to see if | noticed the
change, and made many furtive attempts
to talk about it. | could not have been
more bewildered if soft, pink baby had
suddenly hardened under my hand into
one of those grim old statues that keep
guard over Egyptian tOmbs. She did not
seem to manage it, but could never see
her alone, and she carefully ignored my
hints at the change in her.
Her beauty had always been warmed
and heightened by happiness; she needed
sweet eXcitementS to keep a flush in her
naturally pale cheek, and dewy brightness
in her large grey eyes. When the sun is
saying good night to the peaks of the
Jungtrau, she colors like blush rose,
but when the sun is gone she turns pale
and grey, and is nothing but a cold rock
after all. This was precisely the change
in Isabel Deane. Her face was like a
transparent picture, softly glowing when
the light of happiness was behind it
but without that light it was no picture
at ALL
She had let her house on a long lease
and all of her affairs were as carefully
settled as if she were going out of the
world.
you behave as if you had received
sentence of everlasting exile" | said tC
her on her last day, when she could NJ
longer escape me.
II hope it may be So" she replied
looking straight at the wall; Il have SUI
fered so much here, that, but for thu
children's interest, should be glad to SCI
InlS mousse DUili6u 10 the ground
[ looked at the wall, too, and perceived
that Mr.. Deane's portrait had been re
moved.
"You will take it with you, of course,
/ said, by way of making talk
ooh, no; it would be uoublesom
package. l have sent it to Mr.. Deane'
sister; she always admired and wanted it.
Had grief turned the woman to stone
T took her chin in my, hands, and mad
her look at me, while | entreated her wit
tears to tell me what blight had fallen OF
her.
"Don't you remember the day whel
John sent home that portrait to surpris
YOU on your birthday, and you went o.
your knees to it with delight, as if it ha,
been an altar? You were distracted wit
JOY that day"
oSince then l have known what 1t wa
to be distracted in other ways, and onl
for the children's sake | would have die
and made no sign. You see change Il
me, but [ feel it: and [ assure you d.
not find any more comfort in it than yo1
do. but it cannot be helped"