The Portland daily press., 1881-02-28

pIopltIOuS. One OF fellcla former lovers
was present in a detected attitude, the
friends who approved and the friends who
disapproved were there all equally smart
The colonePs little daughter, child OF
twelve, was there with the aunt and the
cousin who had brought her up, and with
whom she was to remain until the couple
returned. They were to spend month OF
two at Rome, and then come back. But
though after time they came back. little
Lucy Baxter remained, by her fathers wish
with the cousin for whom she had so creat
an affection.
When disagreements began between the
colonel and his wife. Col. Baxter who was
somewhat morbidly fastidious person
shrank from bringing little Lucy from hel
peaceful home to witness the disturbance
and strange, almost inexplicable troubles OF
his new life. She was nearly thirteen. Ii
a year or two she would be woman. He
was ashamed that the two women who had
made his home there ten years and more
should know his present perplexities. he
made one excuse and another to put of
Lucy's coming, and Felicia guessed the rea-
son and felt wild, miserable pang in hel
heart; self-reproach acqniescence, bitter re
sentiment, were all there in her foolish pas.
sionate soul.
One day she said to him:
"You married me, but you never loved
me. Why did you come to disturb me?
What was there to prevent you from marry
ing some one else? If it was only my mon
ey you wanted, you might have had it all fol
the asking"
Baxter's dark face turned white.
81 can't forgive this" he said 'It is nc
use, Felicia. must go away. You can't
say anything to undo this. have felt it all
coming for some time past. You have in
suited me, wounded me, Inundated me
my past endurance"
"Oh, Jim! Jim! You would not have
spoken to me So" sobbed Felicia, apostro-
phizing the dead cousin to whom she had
been engaged.
''No; but have not the forbearance that
your cousin possessed; and though you
broke his heart, you shall not ruin my life
and my child's," said Col. Baxter, in a cold.
concentrated fury.
Felicia was frightened by his strange tone
and strange looks; she came up and caught
his hand.
s.Leave me alone" he cried: sdon,t toucb
me-"
she ran out of the room with a pale face
ana desperate eyes; spoiled, lonely, inexpe-
r1enced, she was not likely to make allow
ance for another somewhat spoiled child
She did not distinguish between holiness of
temper and GOODNESS of heart. Perhaps Mrs.
Willoughby might have done some good
then, but Felicia rushed to friend who
happened to be staying in the house, and
who certainly made matters worse. They
had been bad enough before.
I'VE are born to be slaves aud play
things" said this lady, gloomily, with her
foot on the fender. ''Some women have
spirits too high for mean surrender to cir
cumstances; without such hearts to blee d
for the cause of right and truth and liberty.
we should be brought low indeed. You are
one OF these" said Mrs. Bracey THAT was
the friends name) suddenly turning full up
on the quivering, pale, indignant lady of the
house-"one these generous martyred
ones"
And so it happened that the two parted.
Col. Baxter made some excuse to somebody
the butler, beleve-and went away with
out seeing his wife again. Felicia, as usu-
al, staid on alone at Harrington. How Of
ten had she turned some page in her short
lies history and begun to live alone! She
was perhaps more forlorn now than she had
ever been. People did not know her story
for certain, but they whispered it about and
looked At her pitifully. She kept away and
could not face them.
1t was not till some weeks had passed that
Mrs. Willoughby brought her up to London
by main force.
''The poor little soul will 90 out of her
mind If she is left to brood all by herself in
that dismal old place. hate that Col. Bax-
ter, Dick" said Mrs Dick emphatically.
y! saw him at the club the other day,
looking uncommonly dismal; said Dick
cases out of ten it is the woman's fault
when people quarrel. You can give in with
grace, my dear; man can't without making
fool of himself"
"Nonsense!' cried Mrs. Willoughby,
laughing. "You never appear at greater
advantage than at such times, Dick"
But the scene changes to Sadler's Wells
once more where they were all sitting in a
row in their comfortable box, and watching
the changing scenes. Mrs. Willoughby, who
had taken up the glass, looked slowly round
the theatre, and paused for moment, as
her husband had done, upon the opposite
box, but its occupant was hidden from view
by the curtain. Mrs. Baxter did not look up
or about; she sat listless, absorbed, listening.
while faint color rose and then died away
on her pale cheek.
Meanwhile people grew more and more in
terested the storm of feeling upon the stage
rises and engrosses the not unsympathetic
audience; sorrows knell is DINING; gallant
Mercutio falls as bravely as he has lived:
Romeo, driven to bay, is forced to revenge
him; then comes the sentence and the pas
sionate parting scene between the ''hour's
wife" and her banished lover.
Little Margaret began to cry outright, the
tears dribbled down her blue ribbons Felic-
ia never moved, she seemed to turn pale and
more pale.
1t was at this instant, happening to look
round, that Mrs. Willoughby caught sight of
the occupant of the opposite box, who, for
getting his precautions, had leaned forward
for minute; then he withdrew almost i'm
That black, set face, that close
cropped, military head-surely she could
not be mistaken. She glanced at her friend
anxiously, then she touched her husbands
hand to attract his attention
"Dick," she whispered, edo you see?''
Eyes; l saw him come in,' said Dick, in
a low voice. "Don't look; you might fright
en- him away"
Then the critic, who had to write his arti-
Gle, however much other people were dis
tracted, went back to his notes again. Little
followed every word with rapt at
tention; to her the play was everything. and
everything else nothing. Mrs. Baxter, too.
to have found some relief from the
weight OF her present troubles in Juliet's
pathetic words; the color rose into her
cheeks, her eyes frightened.
bravo, Juliet" said Dick, when Juliet.
after her great cutlery of childlike terror,
suddenly, nobly, calmly drains the sleeping
draught. Then came that last great scene
where life and death seem struggling for a
while, and the unseen and the present meet,
and human beings fall helpless and pros
trate before the awful doom of fate.
1t was not till this last scene that the op-
posite curtain was pushed back, and that
Col. Baxter, seeing his wife's beautiful, sad
face leaning forward, leaned forward too.
Who was it spoke? Was it Shakespeare
who spoke in faithful, ever-enduring words?
was it Baxter? was it Felicia? 'Oh, my
love, my wife" says Romeo
Felicia looked up. Had some voice called?
Perhaps she looked away because she could
not face it all; but from across the great
theatre she met the steady look of her hus-
bands eyes; the two saw each other With
qot, -.