Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1875-06-18
selrfted Mlistcllamp.
HEART TO HEART.

In. answer to his brief letter asking
her, she wrote:
Il will be your wife.
Lucille OWEN"
She was the only child of rich mer-
chant, and her life had been sort of
perpetual altar, upon which many had
delighted to cast their hearts as most
willing sacrifices.
One week later these two, Ralph
Guion and Lucille Owen, stood before
the altar of fashionable church, where
the elite had gathered to see them made
man and wife The woman was clad in
travelling dress, her face white and set
like the portrait of one dead chiseled in
marble over his tomb.
Why bad they married? thousands
asked the question, but not one could
answer it. They met and they were
wed. If there was spark of love be-
tween them, nobody knew it. 1t seemed
one of those mysterious matches that
happen every day.
A year was spent travelling abroad.
Each day as the year passed their inter-
course seemed more distant. Even her
discussions on literature and art. which
had at first been animated and full of a
certain charm, now was marked with a
formality and conventionalism. Both
seemed growing further apart.
At length she run to such worldly ex-
cess that he angrily interfered. 1t was
when she had danced the entire evening
ending with walrz of long, dizzy dura-
ton. He had stepped up and taken hel
from her partner a brilliant Frenchman
saying, freezingly, as he led her aside
Lucille, you have forgotten that You
are Ralph Guion's wife" Then added
with poignant irony, and short, angry
sigh, "my wife"
The woman flashed at him a quick
look, half-qucstioning, half defiant, fol
there was strange expression on bis
cold face. The light blue eyes had
burned themselves black Jealousy had
proved the open sesame to his proud self
contained heart
The first rebuke proved but the ante
cedent to countless others. His power
full will held her in wise He was al
ways in her presence watching her every
act and word. She broke into open re-
bellion. Dear friends interfered, con-
doing with her and melting to defiance
against such tyranny, and by subtle in
situations to each about the other, driy-
ing them asunder.
All the consonance of their life was
lost; it became a jarring, discordant
strain. They were rushing to the very
brink of ruin. Yet about her all this
time we're thousand little kindnesses,
making her life perfect in luxury.
One day, after one of her desperate
outbursts, he said, in his cold, incioive
tone, "Lucile, life has become hateful. .
The blood rushed back upon her heart
as she replied ''DiDorce can dtsseue,
eUem mind from, mind"
Her tone was strange to her own cars.
She said afterwards to herself in great
despair, that it was not she but that out.
side relentless power speaking through
her
He started, Keeling where he stood,
bis low, quiet voice shaken, broken
divorce, Lucille p and instantly
left her.
She started as if to follow him, in {
sort of wild terror, but when she opened
the door he was not in sight; the hote
hall was still and empty. She closed it.
and was alone.
The long evening passed and tht
night She spent it in the parlor. wait
ing to let him in if he should come, fol
he was obliged to pass through it in or,
der to enter his apartment. AS the
hours passed, she was seized with wllc
terror. Perhaps he would never come
She had made his life hateful; perhapi
he had taken her at her word, and lef
her forever. And into her heart came
craving to hear his voice, to see his face
if but once again.
The night passed, and the next day
then another night, another day. still h
did not come and in this time this cray
ing grew stronger, until the woman sal
to herself in terrible conviction, "ILoUe
him p
The evening of the third day he came
] As he lookcd a. hor tho blood rushed [