Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1881-04-02
HER TALHSMAN.

HER TALHSMAN.
A pout upon the red lips of Gerard
Sinclair's young wife-unmistably
a pOut-for though wife of almost
two years, ,'the fond, indulgent hus-
band had, for the first time, said
nay to an openly expressed wish.
The fancy ball OF the season, a
grand and fashionable Assem- blage,
was to take place during his alb
sence, and he had said that he
should prefer she did not attend.
She was only twenty. Let this
much be said in extenuation of the
two great tears that rose to the
brown eyes and slowly trickled
down the pretty face, splashing on
the dainty morning dress, which,
clinging to the dainty form, revealed
so perfectly its graceful outlines.
Certainly, NiObe had no reason to
feel ashamed of this one of her chill
dren. But Gerard Sinclair had only
stopped to kiss away the glistehing
drops, in a half-hurried manner,
perhaps, to hide his awakening re-
| morse.
"Never mind, little wife; l will
make it up to you another time"
Then he was gone; but she sat
still, turning and turning her we'd
ding ring, with eyes bent upon it.
1t was curious ring-a solid band,
set with five large diamonds.
1t had been her charm, her tails
man, not to be taken from her finger
until soul and body had parted; but
this morning ii had losS its charm.
If it failed to scatter the clouds, it
failed to bring back the sunshine.
Even when the hour came round
for Gerald's homecoming, he missed
his usual warm welcome; but he
thought that he might trust his
wife's heart, and said nothing. The
next day he started on his journey.
"You're not going, my dear p
exclaimed Mrs. Martin, bursting in
upon her friend on the morning of
the ball. "And why not? ?"
"Gerald is away" replied Mrs.
Sinclair, with some little show of
wifely dignity, as though the fact
were in itself sufficient explanation.
"And why need that make any
difference ?'' pursued Mrs. Martin,
a beWitching little widow, some few
years her friends senior. 81 will
share my escort with yOu-COunt
Belonzi."
Sophie Sinclair looked amazed.
She knew that the man mentioned
had but lately gained e1atree into
society, and knew also that her hus-
band disliked and distrusted him.
Once or twice she had seen his eye
fixed admiringly upon herself, and
had felt somewhat as the bird might
feel beneath the basilisk glare of the
serpent.
'Well, why don't you answer ?"
continued Mrs. Martin. "Will you
GO? >"
"No, no." she replied, trying to
speak with firm decision. "Be-
sides. | do not think that Gerald
admires the COUNT
"Preiudices. The count is one of
the most agreeable and charming
men / know. Indeed | think /
should be canonized for my willing
ness to share his attentions, espe-
cially as / have heard him say all
manner of pretty things about YOU"
Nonsense, Ellen ~ retOrted Mrs.
Sinclair.
But she felt the ground slipping
beneath her feet as she spoke.
After all, Gerald had not said
positively no. Had he thought it
necessary, after he had openly ex-
pressed his disapprobatiOn of her
going?
He had not known that she would
be sorely tempted. Besides, she
would wear mask. No one would
know her, and when she told Ger
aid he would forgive her. A sud-
den thought came to her.
ST will CO." she said at last, after
continued urging, and looking at
the picture in all its brightest light,
son one condition, and that is, no
one is to know me-nOt even the
count. Say that you have persuaded
a friend to accompany you who
wishes to remain unknown. / will
come to your house, where he will
find me, and thus gain no clue"
So it was decided /; but despite her
exquisite costume of a fairy, as she
concealed it and herself beneath a
large domino, the clock on her man.
tie, as it chimed the hour of ten,
seemed to say at every stroke,
''Stay! stay!"
She was almost tempted to obey
it. but she had promised Ellen, and
after all, she had heard that it was
well for young wives to assert them
selves.
An hour later, and, on Count Bel
brilliant scene. So far, he had not
even seemed curious to ascertain
her identity. She experienced at
this singular sense of relief.
The bali was at its height as the
clock rang out the hour of midnight;
but, for the first time in her life,
light and gayety were distasteful.
A hundred times she wished herself
at home.
"I will tell Gerald / have already
been punished" she whispered TO
herself, as she stood for moment
alone in quiet corner.
"You look more like a nun than
a fairy, rather like one who had
fOresworn the Vanities of the world
than a siren to tempt men to their
destruction, said a voice close to
her, "though to the latter l know
no one more fitted"
"SirW she exclaimed, indignant
ly, recognizing as she spoke, the
count standing at her elbow.
"Ah, you thought did not know
you. / should penetrate any dis
guise you wore. Besides, you have
forgotten to remove badge of
recognition"
She followed with her eyes his
downward glance, and saw that it
rested on her hand, ungloved, as in
better accord with the eXigencies of
her costume. Inyoluntarily she