The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1878-07-26
Select Story.
ANTHONY RYLAND'S WIFE.


borough Junction is the most convenient
station. One dull, heavy day in October of
last year | booked at Loughborough for
Ludgate Hill, and took my seat in third.
class carriage of a southwestern train. 1t
was neither from economy ,uor for ''the pride
hat apes humility" that | travelled third
class but my business obliges me to spend
most OF my time alone, and when have an
opportunity of getting among people, it is
good for my business that | should see and
hear as many of my fellow-creatures as
possible. Hence | prefer the frequently
| changing crowd of third-class carriage to
the thinly masked solitude of higher
class.
On this occasion the carriage in which
| found myself had only shoulder-high com.
| partment partitions, so that one could see
from end to end. There were in all seven or
| eight persons present, and | was in the last
compartment but one, with my back to the
engine, and in the right hand corner as
| sat.
For few minutes | engaged myself in
observing the five or six people scattered up
aud down the major portion in front of me,
then looking over my shoulder, found that
the compartment nearest to the engine con-
tained only woman with a young baby in
her arms. She was sitting with her back to
mine. Owing to the violence of the wrench
| had to give my neck in order to see her,
my glance was brief but while it lasted
caught sight of an expression such as had
never before seen on a human face an ex-
preston which so affected my curiosity and
wonder that after allowing little time to
eapse, and just as we reached Walworth
Road, | shifted myself to the other end of
the seat on which | sat, and throwing my
arm careIessly over the shoulder-high par
tition, looked long at the pair. In the sense
that surprising revelation may fascinate
any one, | was fascinated
Although could hear no word of hers,
even when the train stopped, her lips moved
slowly, paused awhile, and then went over
again the very same phrases. At length |
learned the unspoken words of the passion.
weary lips;
My darling My baby son ! My own
My own =
Did ever any other heart yearn so over
whelmingly over any other being? Was
this new manner, a higher, more intense
form of maternal love? And had all else of
that kind which / had seen been only the
prelude to this imperial theme of pas
sion y?
Those words, beyond all doubt, were the
clue to her whole nature. That child, be-
yond all doubt, was the acme of her pre-
sent life. She was as unconscious of the
presence of any strangers as though she sat
alone with her child under palm tree in
the oasis of an ocean of sand.
'Ludgate Hill ! Ludgate IIillr
The train stopped and got up. She rose
with shudder.
left the carriage, and in doing so no.
ticed that she had some difficulty in opening
the door, | turned the handle for her, and
assisted her to alight. She looked up:
Thank you, sir .
Deep-set blue gray eyes with strange red
points of fire in them, like sparks of glow
ing charcoal seen through damp glass.
Her left hand and arm swathed the baby
toher bosom. The hand lay visible and
bare on the third finger was a wedding
ring.
confess that all the day | was haunted
| by the face of this woman. | could not get
it out of my mind. When | read, it came
between my eyes and the page. In the street
| found myself looking for it among the
crowd. | kept saying to myself the words
indicated by the lips but never breathcd by
the voice.
was detained in town until late hour,
In the evening met friend, Dr. Robert
| William Baird, of Brixton. invited him
to supper and we turned into a restaurant
in the Strand.
After supper we lit cigars. | thought /
noticed lock of painful preoccupation on
his face Has anything unpleasant hap
Pened ! asked you seem out Of
| S jrts.'
He shook himself smiled, and reused up
oh, dear, no! Nothing the matter. | did
not know ! was looking blue. To tell you
the truth, was thinking of very unhappy
scene that witnessed to-day. You know
Langton the solicitor ??
NO.
Michael Seymour Langton, you know p
His name, no more
A g;
you must know him some day. Well,
looked in at his Office to-day. He's always
glad to see friend. One of those free-and-
easy, good hearted fellows, who, without
making you feel bit uncomfortable, will
tell you to be off the moment he wants Won
to go, so that you need never be afraid of
doing him grievous bodily harm by staying
awhile if he'll let you."
We'll p
Exactly. But / cant help telling you
about him, he's such capital fellow. You
and he shall dine with me Sunday. EhP
All right as far as Pm concerned but
about the incident or scene q
Well he resumed after few solemn
puita at his cigar, Il wanted. Now, said
Langton. A knock sounded at the door
and man entered. AT first thought Lang.
ton had made false diagnosis of his visitor
for anything less scoundrelly than the ap-
pearance of the man never saw. He was
of the medium height, well made, handsome
with light blue eyes, straight nose, straight
mouth, clear complexion, and most win
ming and disarming smile. He appeared to
be about 3S years of age, His moustache
and whiskers were brown, and the well shaw
en- chin was very firm and clean in outline.
Upon the whole an excet ding proper man.
and one | thought, likely to be very popular
among the ladies ; in no way like you, my
Jaar Ma1ton