The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1882-05-03

age came TO her aid; and she resolved
to persevere.
One evening, he came home TO his
dinner, in an unusually bad temper.
"Mrs. Fitzgerald" he asked, se-
yerely, at the table, "what ails this
steak? It's burned, it's tough, it's
tasteless. The potatoes are scorched,
the bread is sour, the rolls are like
lead, and the butter rancid, There is
nothing fit for decent man to eat"
"Eat away, then dear" said Nelly,
placidly; "for, to day you don't quite
come under that catalogue, l think"
"By, George, madame, he exclaim-
ed, angrily, pushing back his chair,
"this is unbearable. To be told, to
my face, that am not decent mani
And l a Fitzgerald. My late la"
eyes, your late lamented Katy
and Fanny Do go on,@ said Nelly,
saucily, "or let The dead rest. Real
ly, sir, no decent man would swear
at his wife; find fault with the din.
ner; and make life thoroughly un-
comfortable for her. But finish your
meal, love. and let US goto the opera.
Bridget had to go home today. We
were out of coal, had a headache,
besides having many callers. But I
did my best"
Mr.. Fitzgerald would not go TO the
opera, however. His feelings had
been too deeply hurt, he said to him
self; and so he strolled sadly away, to
the handsome cemetery. Here he
stood, and gazed on the sculputured
Fitzgerald monument, wondering
how the name of Nelly would look
beneath those Of Katy and Fanny.
Another week went by. Mr.. Fitz-
gerald had again absented himself
from home for several days. ut is
best to let women see you will do as
you please" he said.
The evening he returned, he found
the house silent and deserted. No
CHEEKY light streamed from the bay
window, to bid him welcome. The
window, by the way, had come to be
quite favorite seat Of his. No ans
wer came to his repeated calls for
Nelly Where was she? Her pretty
face always before had greeted him,
on his return from business or pleas
ure. Hastily he descended to the
basement. No one was there. All
looked cold, dark and dreary; for he
did not see the sweet, anxious face
hidden in q shadowed recess; a face
watching his, in the moonlight, full
of pity for him; for Nelly was there,
and as she beheld the look of trouble
and the love which for the first time,
for weeks, shone in his face, she al
most repented Of what she had DONE
AT last, with deep sigh he went
upstairs, into the pretty sitting-room,
and sat down. The fire had gone
out in the crate. But he did not
notice it. For long, long time he
sat there, and went, by sudden i'm
pulse to the dainty bedroom, hoping
he might discover, perchance, some
thing that would tell him of Nelly.
There was nothing there, however.
So, once more he went down stairs
and seated himself by the desolate
CRATE. He began to soliloquize grim
| ly. "What brute l am" lie ex-
claimed, at last, rising and pacing
the room excitedy. 81 suppose Mel.
ly has ran away at last. Well, l
don't blame her. After all, a woman
is human being, and has, as she
says some rights. thought her like
my other wives; but | see now they
had not the courage TO tell me the
truth. No man would have stood
what she has, as patiently; and she
always keeps her temper, too. l
have been shameful husband, ]
acknowledge; but she has shown me
myself, pretty well, in all my selfish.
ness and egotism, better than any
one else ever could. ! have quoted
Katy and Fanny to her, until she is
tired of their very names. never
loved either Of them, l now see, as
have learned to love her. Oh, my
beautiful, proud.spirited Nellyl Come
back, come back, and l will try to
prove faithful and true"
Almost involuntarily, his voice,