The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1878-01-23

eyes, 1 must; 1 dare not stay. Butt go
sadly, unwillingly." ''Then stay; will not
cause you one moments pain. II either
must go. let me be the one to wander, exiled
by my own folly" "But you have your
wife; have nobody who cares for me. An
orphan, brotherless, sisterless, | could go
and who would care?' 81 would, dear Kate.
Let me tell yousthe whole truth; love you,
and for that loves sake will see you no
more" White as the lace about her throat
Mrs. Phelps staggered away. Wild with pain
and sorrow, the words that had fallen from
her husbands lips the death knell to her
fondest hopes, sounding through her brain,
she was no longer his wife save in name.
He loved another, and for the sake OF that
love he was to leave her, was to leave
home, and wander in other lands. Could
she have heard the remainder OF her hus-
bands remarks she would not have grieved
so. Remembering his honor and his wife,
after mad moment of passion, he talked
banteringly with Miss Mason, and she, re-
sorting to the articles Of a finished coquette,
ignored the words of love that had escaped
his lips. She knew that she must say no
more or he would flee from her to his wife,
and that he would appreciate the change for
the better. In a little while they came into
the parlors where Mrs. Phelps, anxious and
sad, sat awaiting them. Her husband no.
ticed how wan and i'll she looked. and though
his conscience reproved him sorely, he had
no thought that she knew his folly.
"Will you plase take me home, WHIP she
said when he approached her. "Are you
faint, Maggie?' mo; but l want to go
home. If you will call the carriage l can go
by myself" II will go with you." No, that
is not necessary; but you will come home
soon?' He made ne reply, for he intended
accompanying her; but after she was in the
carriage some freak of fancy impelled him to
return to the ball room, and ere he was
aware Of il the night was gone. He took
Miss Mason home and then, with
an anxiety he could not explain
he hurried to his home. His wife, dressed
for travelling, awaited him. She had been
waiting for his coming, and when she heard
his step she met him with a smile so faint
that it was the ghost of the merry glances
oAlc uScu u give w III he-fO q AASS-
sage from father; he is i'll; 1 must go to him.
am all ready, and | start soon." "But isn't
this suddenP is he so very ill?" "Yes, so
the telegram says. Could you go with me?'
''No, but l hope to come to see you If you
are detained HE may die, Will, and
then you will be all that have on EARTH"
"Oh, he'll get we'll; your father isn't so old
and feeble as you imagine. / hope you will
find him better Something that he could
not understand seemed to be in her tone
her appearance, but he dismissed the
thought from his mind and busted himself
about her luggage. She had always wept
bitterly when they were parted, if only for
day, but now she received his kisses with
strange composure though her lips were
ashen and cold. "Will you write to me,
Maggier were his parting words, and her
reply haunted him for days, "Am
/ not your wife?" Ere she had been
gone an hour the second telegram
came announcing her fathers death. In
stantly Mr.. Phelphs prepared to follow her,
knowing her absorbing love for her father,
and how shocked and paralyzed by grief she
would be when she reached her old home.
only to find it dsrkened by the great shadow
of death.