The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1881-07-03
CHAPTER l.
"Home, home, sweet homc'
There's no place like homel"


sing IL mournfnlly, my heart echoing
the truth of every word A man with AN
organ and monkey was grinding II out
with untlring energy for an hour this
morning under the windows Of our lodg-
incs. and | cried--reolly cried--from the
predictions "sweet home" evoked.
Three hours later the words and music
still rung In my head, and sing the re.
frain over and over again, more TO myself
than to anybody else--by "anybody else" |
mean that other figure seated beside me IN
the glowing afternoon sunshine. do
not care If he hears me. II II were not for
him, the old home that awakens such ten
der memories would be mine still.
Only three weeks married, and am
heart-sick and home-sick already 1t Is
yearning, aching inconsistencies, which
makes me, the three-weeks-old bride, long
with an unutterable longing to speed with
flying feet down the purple mountain-side,
straight to the railway station, and get
me away to the dear home-nest again.
look around and see the world bathed
in the golden shimmering sunshine which
turns the purple heather crimson and lays
amber streaks on the calm, calm sea lying
vast and still beneath the azure blue.
Down upon the yellow strip Of beach
there Is not even fringe Of creamy foam.
The water meets the shore in long silent
kiss, the boats out In the bay are not NOV
ing, but lying becalmcd, with the sun ON
their red sails BY and by---at sunset per-
haps-a breeze may spring up, and come
murmuring over the placid deep; and the
red sails will fill, and with a little ripple
and rush the boats will sail away in the
golden distance.
After contemplating the mountain.peaks,
the heather, and the fishing-boats, hum
"Sweet Home" again, and turn my eyes
upon the figure sitting about half yard
below me, sketching industriously the
strip of beach, the juttirs rock beyond,
and fishing boat high and dry on the
shore.
This is my husbands and I look at him
again with critical eyes. He is a long
loose-limbed" individual, clad in blue
serge, with rugged, irregular face, re-
markably good nose, light brown wavy
hair, and short beard Of the same color.
He is forty and am twenty-one. His hair
win be gray when shall be quite young
in, say, ten years. There is not trace
of white hair in his thick clustering locks
now.
With careful mastery hand, he is put
ting the finishing touches to the fishing
boat, but pauses suddenly as my thoughts
spoken desperately, with ring of re-
proach that makes them very emphatic.
'THumphrey, why did you marry me?"
He turns round slowly and lifts his eyes
to mine. They are very ordinary looking,
pleasant gray eyes, nothing more. There
is the suspicion of a smile about his mouth
as he speaks.
"Why did marry you, Madgie? What
an odd question. What if l should answer
it Irish fashion by another. "Why did you
marry mey"
crimson warmly; but there are no tears
in my reproachful indignant eyes.
81 suppose because you asked me-"
The answer is lame and eyasive.
Humphrey still looks at me from the
grass, leaning upon his elbow, with his chin
resting upon his open palm.
because asked you! Well, unless it
were leap-year, we could not have been
married without. Had you no other req
son, Madgiei"
"Do you wish me to tell the TRUTH"
ask, looking straight into his face. "Be-
cause think Humphrey, should be hap
pier IL we came to some sort of an under
standing"
"What is comingg" he asked with his
gray eyes full of laughter
'DOn't laugh. l am in earnest" And
he becomes grave and earnest too.
"Why did marry you, Madgies You
speak as If had done you wrong" he
says, with grave gentleness--a strong cont
trast to my passionate explanation.
$50 you have Humphrey. OF course you
did not mean it; but, Tiff | had never
seen you, should have been happy and at
home now amongst them ALL"
My husband raises his eyebrows.
"My dear child, what do you mean?"
81 don't know. l can't explain. But |
long every hour and every minute of the
day to be at home"
He draws himself little nearer
s'Did they force you to marry me against
your will"
There is tremor in his voice, but steel
my heart, and 90 on.
"No, they did not lock me up, or feed
me upon bread and water, or do anything
of that kind; but--you see there were so
many Of us and mamma said you wanted
wife, because you had come in for your
uncle's property; and she said you fancied
me"
"Fancied YOU"
81 take no heed of interruption, and con-
tinue--
"And ! thought IL even one of us six
girls were married il would be something,
and help TO them all; and so | said
Yes"
"You poor child" Humphrey whispers
softly. "But why did you not tell me this
before Madgie."
There is an implied reproach in his
tone, and look down crimson and shame.
faced.
"Because thought you would give me
up; and"--a little 6itterly--"it Is not ev-
cry day the curate's daughter marries a
man with ten thousand year"
He winces little at the scorn in my
words; but his voice is as gentle as ever.
81 don't think | could have given you
up" he says. ~ knew that you did not
love me, Madgie; but thought the love
would come in time-and think so still"
at never will y exclaim with passion.
ate vehemence. ~ never wanted to be
married at all. All the others used to
talk of husbands turning up some day,
but ! never did; and, even If ever
thought of one, il was somebody quite diff.