The Opelousas courier., 1883-12-15
A CLOUD WITH A GOLDEN LINING.

A CLOUD WITH A GOLDEN LINING.
Written expressly for the Holiday Review.
cS%aSSsN a neighboring town to this busy burg of
SWS ours there dwell a young married couple
SHS whose manifest happiness is the envy of
49, half their acquaintance.
49, ~ Yet that happiness came very near being
wrecked a short time ago by a misunder
standing which-but you shall have the
m whole story in the regulation novel style,
merely promising that W. have taken the
liberty D use fictitious names for all the individuals
except the enterprisingJ ewelry House which played
so prominent a part in the reconciliation.
1t was a bright, cool evening in the early part of
this season.
Tom Gordon rose from his easy chair by the
glowing CRATE, and, after glancing at the clock,
stepped into the hall, and returning in a moment
pretty little wife, saying, "By by, little girl. Don't
ST up for me, I may not be home very early
why must you go, Tom, dear?" and the bright
eyes looked up beseechingly.
oh, it's an-an engagement IL cannot break,
dearest" said Tom, a little guiltily.
with whom?'
"Good gracious! What an inquisitive child you
are! Don't trouble your pretty head about business
engagements. Now, once more, good bye, darling
and, oh, | say, Jessie, if you want something to do
you might mend my heavy overcoat. It's coming
cold weather now and | shall soon need it. Will
your
And to his request Mrs. Tom nodded and smiled
a bright acquiescence.
AS the door slammed behind her handsome hus.
band she glanced around the cozy, homelike room.
eff only Tom had not been obliged to go out
and such a cold night, too"
The lights burned brightly; the CHEEKY fire in the
CRATE was a bed of golden Goals; the French clock on
the mantel licked unsteady. Towards the crimson
covered table, on which lay a pile of unopened
magazines, two blue eyes looked w~istfully. But
the bride of a few months shook her dainty head
with determination, and the rosy lips repeated the
old formula, Duty before pleasure
And so the heavy overcoat was laboriously lugged
into the room, and the little white hands turned ii
over and commenced operations.
The little lady'S thoughts must have been pleas
ant ones, for she smiled as she sewed, and made a
pretty picture in the irelit glow.
Tomorrow will be my birthday, and I know
Tom has forgotten it. How sorry he will be when
/ tell him.
And as her voice rang out sweetly in a merry
tune, the sllvery-voiced clock on the mantel struck
AS the tinkling notes ended her task was finished
and she turned the coat over to see if it needed
other repairs. As she did so, a small, square sheet
of paper fluttered from an inside pocket and fel
upon the carpet.
She bent forward and picked it up with a low
laugh, wondering which of Toms friends was fop
pish enough to perfume his letters. Then turning
it right side up she saw-what?
Nothing but a sheet of heavy embossed paper
stamped with an incomprehensible blue-and-golt
monogram, and covered with writing in a pretty
scrawling, irregular hand.
Enthusiastically a woman's letter. The bird-lik
song died on Jessie Gordon's lips, the bright colo
faded out of her checks; her eyes had o startled
look, as almost involuntarily she read the words oil
the page before her:
"ToM. DAKLrNe:-I have missed you ~dreadfully latei,
Come! Make some excuse tonight and slip away. 1 hate he
loving Loul9."
This was ali, but it was enough. For a fe,
moments Jessie's terrified, blazing eyes stare
straight at the ~tell-tale sheet.
Then she flung it from her with a shudder, a
though it were a enormous reptile.
Who was the woman who dared to write so t
Tom--her Tom2
She snatched up the note again to look at tn