Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1875-04-30


than alive. He had fought his wife's
battle, but he was enraged beyond
expression. Jealousy nipped him
fast. He thought for a moment of
taking his own life. He lay back
painting.
cit was that, then-she had low
er!"
He looked at the clock. She must
return soon. He would see this lover
with his own eyes, and then-what
he did not say, or even think. Only
something horrible.
With pain and labor he got out of
bed, and reached the window. There
he sat locking down from the dark
room into the light street.
People passed, chatting as they
went. Everyone was active, and
well, and happy, but himself, it SEEM
ed. He moaned with grief as he sat
there. He would have borne any
thing but the loss Of her love-her
neglect. An hour passed. Then a
figure he knew came up the street,
leaning on tall gentleman's arm.
They paused at the door.
"Adieu!" said foreign voice.
"Good-nightn' said Matte.
"On Monday, l shall meet you
again, at the same hour, madam"
said the first speaker.
eyes, shall be there" said Matte.
'And again adicu!'' said the for
eigner; and he lifted his hat, and
was gone.
Matte tripped upstairs.
"The light out?" she cried. "My
dear, are you asleep?"
Then she struck Il match and set
the lamp burning, and almost scream
eds ''Up, and at the window! Charlie,
you'll kill yoursclf!"
eff l only do that, thank heaven
for it, said Charlie. "Why should l
want 10 live, Mattie?"
Oh, my darling!" she cried, and
came toward him.
He put her back with wave of
his hand.
"Don't feign Affection" he said.
"But, for all that, listen to me. l am
i'll and helpless, 1 know, l cannot
command love, but l can command
you not to disgrace me. Who is that
man."
"It is only Monsieur!!" cried Mat
tic. ooh, my dear, it is so kind of
him not to let me come alone. Let
me tell you-"
"Kind!" cried Charlie. "Woman,
am l fool? Evening after evening
you leave me in solitude. Evening
after evening you are escorted home
by that fellow. l have suffered, I
don't deny it. loved you; would
have been true to you, Matte, through
all change; but you are a woman,
and women are all false. But now 1
cast you off. Go to some of your
rich relations. Tell them you have
done with me; and that have done
with you. You have proved plainly
that you care nothing for me. And
why should you, for a miserable fel-
low like me, who will, probably, go
limping through life? Why should
you, for you never really cared for
me? You"
But there he paused, and burst into
tears, and she would not be kept
away any longer. She knelt at his
side, and hid her wet eyes upon his
arm.
"Dearest Charlie" she said, "listen
to me. l did it because we were so
poor. I-oh, Charlie, it is only at
Madame Leroux-the dancing-school,
l mean. She advertised for lady to
play the piano for her evening classes.
1 went; and l did not tell you lest
you should be angry, at first. Besides,
how could l know that l would suit?
But do; and tonight she paid me;
and we need not suffer, darling, un-
til you are well. She wants me to
keep on. And it is only the gentle
man who plays the violin-a grand
father, dearest-who sees me home,
as he passes the door. l am timid,
you know. l meant no harm, and l
thought Of you all the while; and
see how much l have earned. To-
night meant to tell you, and thought
you would be glad"
Poor Charlie! He gathered his
little wife to his bosom, and they
wept together.
"And l may go on?" asked the
poor girl. "Just while you are i'll,
darling?"
Charlie could not answer; word
would have choked him.
81 did go on,' said little Mrs
Cheviot, as she told the story. "For
long while my playing at the dane
lng-school kept the wolf from the
door. But Charlie grew better, al
last, and was not in the least lame
And there is no need of my playing
now, except to please the babies"
And then Charlie kissed her.