The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1881-03-31
but it is an inevitable point in the divid-
ing lines Of intelligent and thoughtful

these things-obstinacy in triiies on her
part. indifference and neglect on his
the outgrowth of traits which had al
ways been there, seen by others before.
BY them only years after marriage2
Love was proverbially blind. Surely,
they were not only blind; but, like
anger, it had been a short madness.
Mr.. Norris could not blame himself
for what had happened. He never
wished or meant to be anything but the
best and kindest of husbands. He had
not only supplied all his wife's real,
but what he imagined might be want,
with lavish hand. He had always
been proud and fond of her. He was
never happy away from her. but alas!
he had come now near to never being
happy with her.
Mrs. Norris was equally sure that her
husbands home had been well kept;
that she had not failed in any of the
wifely duties; that she had loved him,
did love him more truly and devotedly
than any other living being. Whence,
then, had come all this sorrow and
trouble? .H.,
The immediate cause of the crisis
had been Mrs. Norris refusal to 60 to
an entertainment with her husband;
aud her determination. against his. ex-
press wish, to attend some revival
meetings which were then in progress.
She was drawn toward these bv q great
want in her nature, which she could
not and probably would not, if she
could. explain to him. Life had come
to her, as she had thought. in its most
attractive and satisfying forms. and she
had found it-schat? If there was
another that promised something diff
ferent. something better, surely, she of
all living beings, most needed it. MIR.
Norris misunderstood her motives in
going. when he supposed them to be
from wish to annoy him, and he did
both weak and a foolish thing when
he ventured to command her never to
60 again; nor did she do justice to her
true reasons when she answered him
with bitter and cutting sarcasm he
felt he could never forget or forgive.
Over all these separating incidents,
and many more, with a minuteness and
fidelity which seemed to set at naught
all the usual psychological laws, went
this unhappy wife now. That her hus-
band would see MIR. Wentworth, as he
had proposed, she did not for moment
doubt; and that the able lawyer would
accomplish just what he was requested
she was also sure-accomplish it in that
careful. thoughtful, almost tender way,
the very sympathy of which she felt
would be more than she could bear.
And yet she would not raise finger to
prevent it all, if she could. 1t was bet
ter as it was. If she intended to be a
Christian-and back to this point she
found herself constantly coming-what
a hindrance her husband would be. In
deed, with him, would any such change
be possible? But Mrs. Norris had too
acute mind to knowingly practice
self-deception. She saw, at an unwill-
ing glance, that it was not step in the
Heavenward course to break a solemn
VOW made in the presence of the great
God-her God, whose help and care
and love she so much needed. Until
death you two do part. So help me
Godr'
but this has been deathr' she said,
tremblingly, to herself. "Deatn of
all that is worth living for. No cold
hand ever sundered lives more effctual-
ly than ours are sundered now. God
must see this as do, surely. He who
is discerner of the thoughts and in
tents of the heart reads mine and knows
what my true motives are"
Item by item she went over the
changes in their lives which this great
change must make. until she came to
one little spot no larger than baby's
grave; and to this Gods guidance, so
often evoked, had led and held her.
Whose would it be now? When life's
titful fever was over, and she laid her
down to her long sleep, suppose, just
suppose it might not be under the
daisies by Eddy's side. All the strength
of love and tenderness she had Law
ished on her boy came rushing back
upon her aching heart. s'Oh! not this!
not this"' 1t would be the one thing
she could not bear. He was hers. and
not his fathers, by the great right of
maternity, above which God had never
set another; yet this father loved his
child. And then such pleasant memo
ries came to her of the boy dancing in
his great, stalwart arms; of his gentle
ness and lovingness with the tiny crea-
ture; OF his pride and joy when baby
look reminded him of her; of the plans
they had made together for the won
derful future of this wonderful gift.
Very tender she grew at the touch of this
little dead head. There could not have
been a better moment chosen for her
husbands return. When she heard
his foot in the hall, she went, as was
her wont in happier days, to open the
library door, meeting and welcoming
him.
He was not little surprised at her
abrupt reception.
edward" she said, shave you seen
MIR. Wentworth?''
81 have" he answered, briefly.
"There is one thing" she went on,
+" we had better settle before we 20 any
further. Whose will be our little Ed
dy's grave?''
"lt will be ours" he answered. un-
consciously.
"Ours!'' she repeated. with a trem-
bling voice.
Il mcan," he said, remembering him.
self, lit will be mine, unless" plying
the look of agony in her face-''unless
you wish it. If you do shall not hest
tate to give it to YOU"
"But where will You lie?" she asked,
tearfuly.
II don't know" he said, carelessly.
Il told Wentworth I wished you in
every respect thoroughly and hand
somely provided for. shall go to
Europe as soon as can wind up my
business matters here"
He spoke SO coolly and quietly that it
was not difficult for his wife to answer.
"It has come so suddenly that l
hardly understand yet what it all
means. don't wish you to think of
me. Only provide for your own happi-
ness and comfort.
Happiness and comfort!' he repeat
ed, with a sneer.
Edward" she said, not moved as
she would usually have been by the
unoor IN <hor L.