The Red Cloud chief., 1881-06-30
MARTHA PHILLIPS.

Nlycry halr, brushed smoothly away
from her wrinkled forehead, and snowy
zap tied under her chin; a sad, quiet
face; a patient mouth, with lines that
told of sorrow borne with gentle firm
ness; 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 a wound re-
ceired long, long years ago.
Fifty wears she had lived under that
roof, a farmers wife. If Won look on
that little plate on her coffin Id YOU
will see Aged seventy" there, and she
was only twenty when John Phillips
brought her home a bride.
A half century she had kept her care
full watch over her dairy and Harder, had
made butter and cheese and looked
after the innumerable duties that fall to
the share of a farmers wife. And John
had never gone with buttonlcss shirts
and undarncd socks; had not come
home TO m untidy house and scolding
wife.
But underneath her quiet exterior
there was Il story that John never
dreamed of. She did not marry for
love. When she was nineteen, a rosy.
happy girl. 4 stranger came on a visit
To their village, and that summer was
the brightest she ever knew. Paul
Gardner was the strangers name: he
was an artist, and fell in love with the
simple village q ri and won her heart;
and when he went away in the autumn
they were betrothed.
II come again in the spring" he
said. Trust me and wait for me,
Matte. dear"
She promised to love and wait for him
till the end of time, if need be, and with
a kiss OF her quiyering lips he went
away.
Springtime came, and true to his
word Paul returned; he stayed only a
Gav or two this time.
Il am 60 NJ away in a few weeks to
Italy 10 study" he said.
They renewed their VOWS and parted
with tears and tender. loving words; he
put n tiny ring upon her finger, and cut
a lite curly trcss 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 n 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 10 marry me! Oh.
Paul! Paul! | loved and trusted you for
this?'
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 vet spoken
of love. and had received no encourage
ment TO do SO. He was q plain, hard
working farmer, withno 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 wcar.
Now he seemed to have come for the
the express purpose of asking her to be
his wife; for he took a chair beside her.
and after the usual greeting, reserving
scarcely a moment to take breath in,
began. in his business-like way. There
was no confession of love, no pleading.
M hand-clasping. no tender glances;
he simply wanted her; would she be
his wife?
Her lips moved t o 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.
"kiarried2" she said to herself.
.sWhat can / do? He doesn't ask me
to love him. If l marry him | can be a
true wife to him. and nobody will know
that Paul mas Tilted me-"
The decision was made. Her cheeks
were ashy pale as she looked up into
his ewes and answered, quietly: Yes,
i will be your wife"
Her parents were pleased that she
was chosen by SO well-to-do n 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
any 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 wearicd of his telk
of stock and crops, and said TO herself:
Il must work harder. plan and fuss and
hustle about as other women do, so that
/ 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 q blue wooden
stocking for the baby's father. There
was a knock at the h~alf-open door.
viii you be kind enough to direct
me the nearest way to the village?
said a voice, and a stranger stepped in.