Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1876-08-02

But when she was alone-no hui
man eve to read her sad secret, he
small hands clasped in agony, and he
fair head bent to the very dust-wa'
he not avenged?
II
! 1t was driving storm Mr.. Jones
resolved to dine at a tavern instead O.
returning home. He had just seated
himself, and given his order to the
obsequious waiter, when his attention
was attracted by the conversation Of
two gentlemen near him.
"Have you seen the beautiful Edith
since her marriage, Harry?"
'No; I feel too much vexed with
her. Such a splendid woman to mar.
ry such an idiot All for a foolish
quarrel with Ainslle. You never saw
such wreck as it has made of him
However, she is well punished; fol
with all Of her consummate tact and
effort to keep up appearances, it is
plain she is the most miserable woman
in existence as Mr.. Jefferson Jones,
whom | have never seen, might per-
ceive, if he wasn't as all the world
says, the very prince Of donkeys.'
Jones seized his hat and rushed in.
to the open air. Six times he went,
like comet, round the square, then,
settling his beaver down over his
br'w, IN very prophetic manner, he
turned his footsteps deliberately home.
ward.
1t was the deceitful calm before the
whirlwind. He found Edith pale
and selfpossessed, as usual. He was
quite as much so himself-even went
so far as to compliment her on CO.
quetish little jacket that fitted her
round figure very charmingly.
I'm thinking of taking a short
journey, Edith said he seating him
self by her side, and playing with the
silken cord and tassels about her waist.
GAS it is wholly business trip, it
would hamper me to take you with
me; but you'll hear from me. Mean
while, you know how to enjoy your
self-hey, Edith2'
He looked searchingly at her.
There was no conscious blush, no
change OF expression, no tremor OF
the frame. He might as well have
addressed a marble statue.
Mr.. Jefferson Jones was posed
Well, he bade her one of his charac.
terlstic adieus and, when the dool
closed, Edith felt as if q weight had
been lifted off her heart.
There was but one course for her te
pursue. She knew it-she had already
marked it out. She would deny her
self to all visitors she would not &C
abroad till her husbands return. She
was strong in her purpose. There
should be no door left open for busy
scandal to enter.
Of Ainslie she knew nothing, save
that letter reached her from him af
ter her marriage, which she had re
turned unopened. And so she wan
dered restlessly through those splen
did rooms, and, triel by the self'in
ficted penance, to atone for the de-
lection of her heart. Did she take
her guitar, old songs that they had
sung together came unbidden to hel
lips; that book, too, they had read
Oh, it was all misery, turn where she
would!
Day after day passed-no letter
from Mr.. Jones. The time had al
ready passed that was. fixed upon fol
his return, and Edith, nervous from
close confinement, and the weary in
ward struggle, startled like a fright
ened bird at every football.
1t came at last.-the letter-sealet
with black. "He had been accident
ally drowned. His hat was found
all search for the body had been un
availing."
Edith was no hypocrite. She could
net mourn for him, save III the out
ward garb of woe,
Ainslie was just starting for th'
continent, by order of physician
when the news reached him. A brie
time he gave to decorum, and ther
they met.
1t is needless to say what that meet
ing was. Days and months ofwretch
edness were forgotten, like som'
dreadful dream. She was again hi
own Edith, sorrowing, repentant ant
happy.
They were sitting together one eve