Daily Kennebec journal., 1877-07-26
NO. l75
Calls and Sketthss.
PHILIPS REPENTANCE.
By CONSTANCE STERLING.

| Clare Dunwood stood by the window
which looked into her pretty garden and
gazed outward with misty eyes. She was
not thinking how luxuriantly the June
roses were blooming, or how neatly the
gravelled walks were kept. Words her
husband, Philip Dunwood, had spoken on
her marriage day, seven months before.
were fresh in her mind. Unconsciously
she repeated them aloud
81 care nothing for your past life, dear
Clare, its sorrows or its disappointments.
Your past belongs to yourself, your fu-
ture only, to me. | know your past life
has been pure one, and l don't care to
have you tell me of any of the little love
scrapes or trials you have been through.
| will always trust my wife in the days to
come"
| She felt that she had been worthy OF
that trust. Poor Clare she had striven
so hard to do her duty, and had tried to
make bright and happy home for Philip.
and bear with his temper, which was
high one. and easily reused. How sick
at heart she felt this morning, for the even
ing before she had seen Roger Lennox at
the house Of Mrs. Page, her next door
neighbor. She and Philip had walked
over to Mrs. Pages to play croquet on
her beautiful lawn, and there in the par
lor as handsome as ever. stood Roger
Lennox. lie came forward immediately
before Mrs. Page could utter an introduc-
tion and caught Clares hands eagerly in
his.
ITO think | should meet You here.
Clare ~ he said Il am Just home from
Europe, came four days ago, and have
been asking all your old friends where
you had disappeared, and none of them
knew"
Clare dared not raise her eyes to the
passionate brown ones, above her. A sob
came in her throat, and she drew away
her hands from Rogers clasp.
| 'Who is this gentleman ?" said stern,
naughty voice, the voice of Philip Dun
wood; and then Mrs. Page, astonished at
the scene, stammered an introduction.
"Did you not know l was married ?"
asked Clare, trying to speak lightly, and
Roger Lennox turned ghastly white. as
he replied that he had not heard of it.
Philip was haughtily silent, and declining
to play croquet took bis wife home. Not
a word was spoken on the way, but when
they reached their own parlor, Clare
turned swiftly. and put her arms about
her husbands neck. Let me explain to
|
Take your arms away, Clare" was the
| reply, in hoarse, unnatural voice, and
lett the room. Glare heard him 90 into
the library, and shut and lock the door,
She staggered up stairs, and threw herself
on her pretty white bed. and lay there all
night. not feeling able to rise and remove
her pretty croauet costume, in which Phil
ip always said she looked so girlish and
sweet. O, how she wished that she had
insisted on telling Philip on their mar
riage day, all her past life, with its bitter
ness and sorrow. Ii she had done so,
he could never have blamed her now.
She had been teaching in a small village
when Philip met her, and after few
weeks wooing, made her his wife, the
wedding being very quiet one in stuffy
little parlor OF the house where Clare had
boarded for a year. lie knew she had
once been wealthy, and the idolized child
OF indulgent parents, who had died with
in week OF each other of malignant dis
ease, and left their child utterly alone, ana
as is so often the case, penniless, for Mr..
Drew's affairs were found to be in most
embarrassed condition, and the pale, pref
ty Glare, who had suffered so many be-
reavements, and was hardly twenty, went
to the rural place where Philip had seen
her first, and began to teach.
Glare waited in the breakfast room,
wondering if Philip would come to break
fast with her. o. if he would but allow
her to explain. If he would let her tell
him how entirely he had won her love.
She heard his step, and turned paler than
before. He came in looking haggard and
weary. Evidently he had not slept all
night. lie ate his breakfast in silence,
and at its close. rose from his chair with
the remark:
II am going into Bannings. and will
not be back, probably, until noon. Is
there anything you want from town ?'
lie did not falter as he asked this usual
question, for he always attended to all
Clare's commissions, as they lived four
miles from the town.
Nothing, thank you, Philip" faltered
poor Clare, scarce daring to meet his
stern, set gaze, "but If you would let me
explain"
II want no explanations" returned
Philip in an angry, excited manner.
Your paleness and confusion. and that
mans total disregard for all decency,
squeezing your hands in that manner,
were enough for me. desire no expla-
nations. Your future conduct will alone
ICouNiHce lut tudl you are worthy my re-
gard. A woman does not turn as white
as ghost at meeting a man for
whom she does not care He turned
away, and left the room.
Clare sank in the nearest chair and COW
cred her face with her trembling hands.
Then afraid that the servants would co me
in and find her thus, she managed to walk
to the parlor, and there threw herself on
a sofa, and gave indulgence to bitter
thought. An hour passed and still she
sat there in silence. Like flood came
over her the memory of her husbands past
kindness and present dstrust. and she
threw out her arms wildly, saying brok-
enly-"O Roger, Roger, why did you
come ?n
Even as she spoke, man entered the
long French window, which opened on
the piazza. and in another moment Clare
felt his arms about her.
Glare, you called me-" said the music,
al voice. 30 Clare, why did YOU marry
why did you not wait for me ?''
| rl,,, fnr.ad NAV his a,EoIt;ox