The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1876-10-20
CHAPTER III.


John Smith failed to partake of his
solitary dinner with the accustomed
relish. He had not imagined that
Edna would dare to put her threat into
execution, and his taunts had been
given only because of the impunity
with which, as her husband, he felt it
possible to assail her defenseless po-
sition.
To thequestiOns from chatty friends as
to whether or not Edna was indisposed,
he returned the answer that she had
gone out for an hour or two, and to the
rallying replies upon the rapid waning
of the honeymoon that followed, be
merely responded in monosyllables.
'Tll never trouble her again = he
exclaimed bravely to himself, but the
resolution choked him, and his appetite
vanished before the meal was half over.
Returning to the room where his dream
of happiness had been so sweet and yet
so evanescent, the miserable husband
threw himself upon the bed and wept
in helpless agony.
He felt, too, depth of bitterness in
thinking of his wife, that was natural
enough to be excusable under the cir
cumsUances.
Wasn't she his property, to have and
to hold for better or for worse? and
couldn't a man do what he pleased
with his own?
Then came another query. If she was
his, and his only, why might he not
compel her to remain in his custody?
Had John possessed only a moderate.
income, he would have Immediately
planned to compel her to return; but
the problem of how to obtain food,
lodging, and raiment for one was now
demanding solution, and the poor Ben
edict, being untitled for any other avoca-
tiOn than the idle one of great expecta-
tions, was baff1ed at every turn.
Morning came, and brought with it a
determination to assert his rights; and,
with John Smith, to resolve was to ex-
ecute.
"Fll go to my respected father-in- law
as a repenting prodigal, and throw my
self upon his mercy ~ he declared,
humbly.
So he walked bravely enough over
the lonely way till be came within the
environs of the Rutherford farm, and
then his courage failed.
They'll only insult me ~ he said, in
despair, 'and pll not go there to be hui
INFLATED. I've heard of old Aunt Judy.
They say she's eccentric, but kind
Maybe she'll harbor fellow till some.
thingcan be DONE"
John looked long and wistfully ct the
great farmhouse.
Would Edna allow him to go away
without one kindly word if she only
knew he was there? Had she forgotten
the old gushing tenderness that had
- filled her soul and his with joy unspeak.
able? And was she indeed lost to him
forever?
Thus musing, he walked rapidly
across the field in the direction of Aunt
Judy's cottage. AS he neared the door
he paused and listened, and his hear
rose in his throat. Edna was singing
A low, plaintive melody that reminded
him of the wild nliserere of an EoliaI
harp rose upon the air.
" Nothing on earth is tender and true,
Nothing on earth;
Love-light is 1eeting, and fades from tn
view,
Leaving ashes oerspread with the damp c
Deaths dew,
Leaving desolate hearts to bewail the untru
And to sing Of the souls savage dearth.
1--WE might be happy yet, if W
would only try r' said John, while
lump in his throat clogged his breath
"Who's yOu9' asked Aunt Judy
peeriug over her glasses through til
little window that struggled to admi
what light it could through the inter
sUices Of overhanging morning glories
"As I live! iFS John ~ cried Edna, i
CONSERVATION. "Hide me quick, Au1
Judy, for he shall not see me p'
"You are very foolish, child" sal
Aunt Judy.
But the admonition was lost upo
Edna. There was 'loft' or attic owe
the cabin, accessible only by a ladde
To mount the ladder and draw it u
after her and close the trap door, wa
the work of moment.
John entered, and Edna was gone.
"Good-morning, ma'am."
Morning, sir! Anything wanting +?
and Aunt Judy eyed his diminutiy
proportions with a mOtherly gaze
mingled surprise and pity.
"Im John Smith, madam, and
wish to see my wife"
'Ive seen John Smith before, sir, ar
can't say that you resemble him
said Aunt Judy, with mellow chuckl
"None o. your nonsense, old woman