Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1881-05-18
Almost Too Late.


Almost Too Late.
al am going now, Helen"
Charles Archer stood at the door OF the
one room high up in the noisy tenement
house in New York, which he called home"
IL was not the welded home he had dreamed
of twelve years before, when he uttered the
"valedictory" at Yale, when Helen Gordon
blushed and smiled at the applause that
greeted his appearance on the stage. Nor
was that crouching figure beside the win
dow, in the untidy print dress, with the
pretty, sullen face, and the uncombed golden
hair, much like the graceful belle, OF whose
company he had been so proud, so happy to
monopolize, upon that golden day.
His wife looked up and caught the ex.
preston OF plying regret upon his dark and
handsome face. Her heart was full of an
CRY rebellion against her fate, against her.
self, againt him-almost against God.
"Why do you look at me like that ?" she
said peevishly. al know that the room
has not been swept, and that have not
made my toilet for the day. My toilet" she
laughed bitterly. "When shall l make my
toilet again, / wonder? once set the fash
now And, oh, to think-only to think
WISE"
Her husbands face darkened all over.
al understand" he exclaimed. "You
mean if you had married Paul Hayden in
stead of me.
&C. How can help such thoughts ] saw
his wife yesterday morning when | was out.
She was driving to the railway on her way
to their country house for the summer /
heard the footman say so to some one there
when he went to buy the ticket for her.
And, oh, what difference there was be-
tween us two No wonder she has kept her
beauty. No wonder l have lost mine.
Beauty, health, youth and happiness, are all
going from me because we are poor"
"Better days are coming, love-" said her
husband, after pause. al have heard of a
good situation, this time, you know. If
get it, it will be stepping-stone to other
things Of more consequence. And when |
am rich, you know well, my darling, that
shall refuse you nothing"
"You have thought, so many times, that
better days were close at hand. And every
time you have been disappointed, and we
have lived on in the same horrible life," was
the discouraging reply.
al know that, my dearest but this is
really good now, trust and hope. If you
will only kiss me and wish me good luck,
have faith that it will come"
He bent down, his dark eyes wistfully
searching hers for one glance of love, such
as he had so often seen there in the happy
days Of courtship. But love, as far as she
was concerned, he sometimes feared, had
flown out of the window of his home when
poverty entered. The heat, the dust the
discordant street cries without, the shabby
and disordered room within, the general
sense of her untidiness, and the calling
memory of the fresh and beautiful summer
costume worn by the wife of Paul Hayden,
as she lounged in her carriage on the pre-
vious day-all these things combined to
Danish the affectionate glance for which the
husbands heart so vainly hungered, and to
make the wife's parting kiss SO cold and
formal, thatit fingered like ice on the young
mans lips as he turned away.
lie said nothing. But the deep sigh that
seemed to come from the very depths of a
tired and overburdened heart silently re-
preached her.
She caught glimpse of his face as he
closed the door. 1t wore a look of repressed
sorrow that would haunt her to her dying
day. What evil spirit had tempted her to
try him so
Was it his fault that by the sudden fail
ure of bank in the great "panic," the saw
ings of years of steady toll had been lost in
a moment? Had he not labored faithfully
ever since for her support For her un.
grateful sake, had he not stopped even to
mental toll?
And now she had sent him far from her
without even word or look of fondness.
What if some accident should happen to the
train by which he was to travel ?
For moment she was dumb almost par
alyzed by the shock of that idea. Then
she sprang from her chair and rushed to the
door, She would call him back and ask
him to forgive that careless, cruel parting.
She was too late. lie was alreaay in the
street. A moment later she heard the
shrill whistle of the train. He was gone.
The day passed on sadly enough. Thought
after thought came crowding into her mind
to unsettle and reprove her. They bore
their fruit.
In less than an hour after Charles Arch
er's departure, his home wore very differ
emit aspect. BY night this room was trim
and clean as willing hands could make it.
Before the clean windows a pair of snowy
muslin curtains were drawn. The stove
shone like mirror, and from its open front
bright welcome flashed out, flooding the
very walls with warmth and light. And,
summer evening though it was, both light
and warmth were needed.
At sunset angry clouds rose in the south,
and the rain came sharply down, with an
accompanying wind that knew little of its
own mind, and veered sharply round con-
tinuously from south to east. Amid the
wailing wind and dropping rain Helen
Archer worked steadily on.
At nine o'clock the train which was to
bring her husband home was due Her task
wa ipio xub aha ha1 10 60
lite viands and set them covered with basin
upon the hearth to keep warm. She leaned
from the window, looking out through wind
and rain, for some sign OF his home coming
She wore the dress he liked best. Her hair
was arranged in his favorite fashion of braids
and curls. She kissed him coldly as he left
her, but now with her heart upon her lips,
she waited to welcome him back even if he
returned as unsuccessful as he went. What
did that matter, she thought as she glanced
out of the window, and saw a neighbor
who had been left widow only a short
month ago.
"Only let him return to me safely and
will make amends for all" she half thought,
half prayed, as memory recalled the count
less times she had grieved him during the
past year.
Nine o'clock came and passed, yet she did
NV hcai tuo Usual Ol Inb incoming
train. Half-past nine, and yet no footstep
on the stairs.
Her heart lay like leaden weight in her
bosom. The color faded from her lips and
cheek, and her blue eyes grew wild with 81
lent dread. At ten o'clock she could bear
the suspense no longer. She left the room
and ran down the stairs, with half-formed
purpose in her mind of inquiring at neigh
boring station about the laggard train.
Dimly in the darkness she saw a crowd OF
people gathered at the outer door of a tene
ment house. They were all talking confus
eddy, but now and then some words broke
plainly through the tumult of sound.
His poor wife" said one voice. how is
she going to bear it, wonder2 1t is well
that she has no little ones TO look after. She
is nothing more than child, anyway"
Make way, there" said some one out
side "We must carry the body up stairs
Which room is it And some women ought
to go before us and tell his wife"
The crowd surged and parted. Between