Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1881-04-30
MARTHA PHILLIPS.

face patient mouth, with lines that
told of sorrow borne with gentle firmness;
and two withered, tired hands crossed.
That was all.
Who, looking at the sleeping form,
would think of love and romance, of a
heart only just healed of wound re-
ceived long, long years ago.
Fifty years she had lived under that
roof, farmers wife. II you look on
that little plate ON her coffin lid you
will see Gagged seventy" there, and she
was only twenty when John Phillips
brought her home bride.
A half century she had kept her care
full watch over her dairy and larder, had
made butter and cheese and looked after
the innumerable duties that fall to the
share of farmers wife. And John had
never gone with buttonless shirts and
undarned socks had not come home to
an untidy house and scolding wife.
But underneath her quiet exterior
there was story that John never
dreamed of. She did not marry for
love. When she was nineteen, q rosy,
happy girl, a stranger came on a visit to
their village, and that summer was the
brightest she ever knew. Paul Gard
ner was the strangers name he was
an artist, and fell in love with the SIM
pie village girl and won her heart and
when he went away in the autumn th ey
were betrothed.
"I come again in the spring." he
said. "Trust me and wait for me, Mat
tie, dear"
She promised to love and wait for
him till the end of time, if need be, and
with kiss on her quivering lips he
went away.
Springtime came, and true to his
word Paul returned; he stayed only
day or two this time.
"I am going away in few weeks to
Italy to study" he said.
They renewed their VOWS and parted
with tears and tender, loving words; he
put tiny ring upon her finger, and cut
little curly tress from her brown hair /;
and telling her always to be true, he
went away.
The months went by, and Matte was
trying to make the time seem short by
studying to improve herself so that she
might be worthy of her lover when he
should come back to make her his
wife.
One day she glanced over a newspa-
per, her eyes were attracted by his
name, and with white lips and dilated
eyes she read of his marriage to an
other.
"Married Taken another bride in
stead of coming back to marry me |
Oh, Paul Paul I loved and trusted
you for this p
She covered her face with her hands
and wept bitterly. An hour afterwards,
as she sat there in the twilight, she
heard a step on the gravel walk, and
looking up saw John Phillips coming
up the steps. He had been to see her
often before, but had never yet spoken
of love, and had received no encourage
ment to do so. He was a plain, hard
working farmer, with no romance about
him, but matter of fact to the core.
His wife would get few caresses or ten
der words. He would be kind enough
give her plenty to eat and wear.
Now he seemed to have come for the
express purpose of asking her to be his
wife for he took chair beside her, and
after the usual greeting, reserving
began, in his business-like way. There
was no confession of love, no pleading,
no hand clasping, no tender glances :;
he simply wanted her would she be his
wife?
Her lips moved to tell him she did
not love him; but as she let fall her
eyes from the crimson hearted rose that
swung from the vine over the window
she caught sight of those few lines
again.
Married?" she said to herself.
"What can 1 do? He doesn't ask me
to love him. If marry him can be a
true wife to him, and nobody will know
that Paul has Tilted me-"
The decision was made. Her cheeks
were ashy pale as she looked up into
his eyes and answered, quietly "Yes,
1 will be your wife,"
Her parents were pleased that she
was chosen by so well-to-do young
man so it was settled, and they were
married the same summer. People
thought that she sobered down wonder
fully; more than that, nothing was said
that would lead any one to suppose that
ang change had taken place.
Yes, she had sobered down. She
dared not think of Paul. There was no
hope ahead. Life was a time to be
filled with something so that she might
not think of herself. John was always
kind, but she got so wearied of his talk
of stock and crops, and said to herself /:
81 must work harder, plan and fuss
and hustle about as other women do,
SO that 1 may forget and grow like
john"
Two years went by. A baby slept In
the cradle, and Martha-nobody called
her Matte but Paul-sat rocking with
her foot as she knitted a blue wooden
stocking for the baby's father. There
was knock at the half-open door.
"Will you be kind enough to direct
me the nearest way to the village ?"
said voice, and a stranger stepped in.
She rose to give him the required di-
rection when he came quickly forward.
"Paul
"Mattiep
His face lighted up and he reached
out his arms. With surprised, pain
painful look, she drew back.
"Mr. Gardner, this is a most unex-
pected meeting"
"Mr. Gardner p he repeated; "Mat-
tie, what do you mean p
"Don't call me Matte, if you please, -
she replied, with dignity. "My name
is Phillips"