The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1881-04-08

in the mercy and goodness of Him who
was pleased to send us this great and
bitter trial some years ago. The chan
ces are, dear lda," Qor the young wife
was trembling in her mothers embrace)
"that George Chesterfield will never
recognize me. was but few years
older than you when he saw me ast,and
now my hair is white, and"
80, dear mother / was wrong not to
tell Edgar before we were married" inter
rupted Ida. "Whatever would he say if
he were to learn the truth now7 the
mistress of his home and the mother of
his child?'
"Hush hush! compose yourself, my
dear Ida" said Mrs. Sinclair, ,soothingly.
"Go to your husband do nothing to ex-
cite his suspicion, neither for one moment
conjure up evils that may never exist.
Even if this should be the George Ches-
| terfeld whom your father"
"Mother don't" almost shricked Ida,
''thc very walls have ears"
But even if he be, DEAR" added Mrs.
Sinclair 'that same George Chesterfield,
surely he would never publish it abroad
| to the world.
They returned to the dining room
where Ida had left her husband, and no
further allusion was made to the dinner
party. On the following morning, how
ever,as Lady Westbrooke sat in her bou
doir alone, with her boy on her knee,
Sir Edgar joined her and she then told
him that she was perfectly willing to in
vite any guest that her husband might
choose to select.
She looked so pretty so utterly guile
less, as she sat there the morning sun
| light turning her bright brown hair to
gold, that he bent and kissed her with
even more than usual affection.
"My little wife shall ask whom she
pleascs, and then she will please me" he
said, with much tenderness. "Only |
don't like her takirg prejudices without
n reason.
Ida colored guilty, and longed, as h
stood by her side playing with his boy,to
make full confession of everything and
trust TO his love and affection for the
rest. As he turned to leave her the
worde Were on her lips: Edgar come
back; have something to tell you,
And then she looked at her babe and her
courage failed hor-her tongue was mute
and Edgar left her.
How miserable she felt all throught
that day! All! and many more in sue.
cession; and how many tears she shed
in secret! Her mother had advised hel
to invite Mr.. Chesterfield to dinner, in
accordance with her husbands wishes
and Ida had done so, though her fingers
had trembled as she penned the words
and she lived in continual dread of what
the consequence of it all might be. She
began to feel that it was impossible to &C
on like this much longer; that come wha
may, she must tell her husband
The evening of the dinner party arri
| we'd, and, although Ida had been nervous
and hysterical all through the day, sh,
stood by her proud husbands side il
the drawing room, calmly doing tn
, honors of hostess. Her mother sat OF
an ottoman near her, looking pale anC
r lovely, with her hands placidly folded
, and the lights from the candelabri
: throwing its faint glimmer upon the sill
yer tresses of her hair.
{ ''Mr. Chesterfield!
, Lady Westbrooke went forward t.
, meet him and uttered the words of in
. PRODUCTION to her mother with lips tha
= never faltered. The consciousness tina
h this night would surely determine every
|. thing, either one way or the other, mad
t her feel wonderfully brave.
t She saw her mothers cheek turn to tn
= hue of death and the blood rush like
torrent to George Chesterfield's fac
3 The recognition, was mutual without th
d shadow Of doubt, and Ida, with sicker
d ing feeling possessing her, went back t
l. her husbands side fearful as to VIII;
might happen next.
1t Later on, almost toward the end of ii
IS evening, she heard her mother conve
d sing with him in a small anti room, @
the top of the stair case
u She was sitting little way apart fro
the others. Her husband was not vii
IL them-she believed that he was in Il
), card room below-when Mrs. Sincla
came toward her, and STOPPING dow
l. / whispered that Mr.. Chesterfield wisht
Il to speak to her alone.
For moment she hesitated-what
III Sir Edgar should return and find her
the anti-room with the man for whom s.
" had apparently shown such dislike?
. "Do go-he won't detain you mi
I'll ute, whispered Mrs. Sinclair, hurriedl
e. ''You will be back before any one h
u time to miss you"
~, And Ida went, her heart beating wi
to to ly
70 The gas burned low in that little roc
y where George Chesterfield stood ere
er and mmovable, and evidently await
- the appearance of his fair young no
v esss.
,s, lie smiled as she came in, and his loo
nc reassured her.
ei- 'Lady Westbroolle, it has caused
mingled feelings of pain and pleasure
4se again meeting the wife of my once
lg teemed and valued friend, Henry S
clair-your father" he said, in acce
ed that were slightly tremulous with an
on ward emmotion. "She has told me h
"a much anxiety my presence beneath "
husbands roof has given you, but J
5, need not fear that | am coward enou
to let the innocent suffer for the gui
re, and disturb the bliss of yours and "
81 noble husbands. Let me add one w
'ur more; my doctor has ordered me abr
me to the South of Frances all busir
Is responsibilities devolye upon my brC
er; take my departure next week,
t a there is but little chance of my e
reaching English soil again"
! in Ida's heart was too full for words
ing she silently suffered George Chesterf
md to take her hand and carry it to her
rad unconscious that her husband saw
leir from the staircase.
ave 1t was late when the last of the gu
red took their departure; and then Ida,
ght unsuspicious,s sought her husband in
library alone,
her lie stood there turning over a few
and ters, but he put them down as his ,
hite entered, and turned his face TOW