Daily Republican., 1881-06-03
HIS SECOND WIFE.

; my nuSDdnu dc Wnen Gell llll. SOfrl
you can't stay to tea with us on accoun
of the children. How old is your eldes
Tommy"
Let me see." The individual ad
dressed balanced his hat between his
B knees on both little fingers, and care
5 fully studied its interior rs though the
information he sought lurked some
= where under the lining. A great blonde
bearded man, but be always was and
always would be Tommy. Never being
able to lid himself of a certain awk
ward bashfulnesS, nor ever having lost
the big, innocent eyes, honest mouth
and ruddy complexion that made hin
look like an Oyergrown SchOol-boy
"Amanda's eleven this June. Lucy
was nine in February. Melinda seven
and Vinnie-thats the baby my wife
f left, you know-will be three to-mor-
NOW.
can girls?"
dyes, ma'am, all girls.
"IIow long since you left the city p"
"Let me see," and Tommy again con
suited his hat 81 left the spring | was
twenty-one, didn't /? Well, I've been
away thirteen years. married Amanda
| " nllt ,luSb SIN IliOlllIiS 'Llbtl iblb.
"She made n good wife, didn't she >"
"The very best: but, then, it wasn't
as though I'd married Melinda"
"No. | suppose not; and yet, Tommy,
l tell you, as I've always told you, Me
linda's not altogether worthy of you,
Not that she isn't good-principled,
warm-hearted and all that, but her
views of life are false"
"Thep you think there's no chance for
me. Is anybody else in the way"
"Nobody, and never has been except
ing the girl herself To my certain
knowledge she's had but one offer be-
sides yours. That was from old Mr..
Hulks, the great shipper. | thought
Melinda would tear his eyes out So
you see, she won't marry merely for
money"
"Still, you think there $ no chance for
me? daren't ask her you know; she
said the last time-when came on after
Amanda died, you remcmher-that il
ever | did it again, she'd never speak
to me-"
"Saying that she meant it, best not
to venture. Let matters take their course.
Sec her as often as possible, but keep u
ttItilu NlSlthtt. why Dt illDSS Will
work around somehow. She's got in
with new set latcly-cleyer people
but they have fancy they've discover
ed new way to put the world to rights
and are just the ones to do it. It's all
well enough, suppose. Amuses them
and don't hurt anybody, but I'm out Of
patience, for all. See here, Tommy, I've
an idea She visits the Park the day
the society meets-that's to-mOrrow-to
commune with nature, she says. I
know her tavorite spot; she's always |
alone; you 60 there, take the children
and get somewhere near her"
'Take the children! I'd frighten her
miles and miles away"
"No, you wouldn't. The more ! re-
feet on this plan, the better | like It.
Ask for a half holiday, gather up your
girls and 20.
The day was all that could be desired.
A May -blue-sky, with drift Of clouds
clouds like departing snow across it;
warm, penetrating sunbeams; soft airs,
alive with children's voices and bird
warblings Yet could not my heroine
find herself in harrr Ony with the scene
She succeeded in securing her tavorite
seat in the Park, a niche on the hillside,
with an interlacing Of boughS, and
glimpses of rock and river. 1t contain
ed only two settees.
Melinda met Tommy Whittlesy just
as he was leaving the afternoon pre-
vious. Somehow those big, blue, re-
proachful eyes met hers whichever way
she looked. More especially did they
a oh trial in trni1, 10 /
read, and moved in her pencils wake
when she turned to writing for relief.
Not that she cared for their owner Oh,
never particle. Any time since her
fifteenth birthday, she had but to say,
81 love yOu," to ma Ike Tommy the hap
piest of men. Yet she never did say it
tnever intended saying it. True, life
Was unsatisfactory. One dream after
another faded; still there was hope of
her becoming something, being some
body; tied to Tommy, that was gone.
AS Mrs. Whittlesy, her days would be
bounded on the east by breakfast, south
by dinner, north by supper, and west
by a basket of undarned stockings.
Was there ever-no, there never was
such impudence? Tommy Whittlesy
lllNl, OllN, WV, tlllCN1 lOulJ
walking in upon her seclu-
sion quite as matter-Ot-cOurse. Yet, no,
not altogether so. Tommy swayed
from side to side an instant
hen, with lift of the hat and scrape
meant for bow, turned as red as the
Giant of Battles and dropped upon the
other bench, also upon her shawl.
"This is Miss Denver, children" and
Tommy almost stammercd in his EN-
"COme speak to the
ady.'
To rise and leave would be an acknOwls
'dgment of weakness; so, outwardly {
ool yet inwardly burning, Melinda kept
Ter seat, turning her attention to the &
A pink-dressed brood, each
nea tritle overgrown, like their father,
taring at her with his eyes and making
lot tha slightest pretence of manners.
"Who fastened your Ciothes?" she ask :
d, seeing that, Amanda's and Lucy's '
uttonS began too soon and ended too I
ate l
"T'he lady we board with" $
"Your are big enough to faSten them !
Or each other Come here, both of you " I
After having Strengthened their backs, :
S Lucy afterward expressed, she dis 4
Missed Amanda with, "Now look after b
our little sister, and turn your toes out c
What 5 that on your dress?" to the third v
irl, who singularly enough, reminded a
cr of her own child-self.
81 don't know" Il
OTIS shame to have that pretty suit !
poiled. | wonder if ammonia won't -
axe it out? What's your name?"
"Melinda Denver Whittlesy."
Melinda senior actually flushed. "My
ame's Melinda Denver; did you know f;
!? Keep your fingers out of your o
louth" and the sharpness of the tones ir
etrayed unusual emotion of some sort bl
Very shortly the oldest girls 'strayed SC
way. Mainda said at once she must al
o, but taking Winnie, who had got /
in her shoe, delayed her, L
h ara prnyal tn bn nothing in that tiny th