The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1883-02-15
Beth feels no jealousy in her heart

Beth feels no jealousy in her heart
/ toward the dumb thing, and her touch
is gentle as his own was wont to be as
she carries ii down and lays it silently
| il his arms.
As his gaze falls on it, smile of
wondrous content crosses his lips, and
he puts one hand to touch the strings.
One instant the long, slim fingers rest
there, and then slip down from sheer
WEAKNESS.
mot tonight" he says softly; mot
tonight"
When the elders 90 down to partake
| of the belated supper in the shady
| keeping-room, Beth still watches on.
The gloom deepens in the apartment,
and there is no sound save the chirp of
| the crickets in the pasture. The moon
rising. sheds flood of lustre through
/ the wide easement.
Leaning forward in the silvery light
Beth touches the brown hand lightly. 1t
| is icy cold. The girl makes no outcry,
sheds no tears, but laying the helpless
| fingers back on the dumb strings, goes
| to the window and looks out over the
wide fields to the far-off silent woods
with eyes that see nothing, and lips that
say only, Not tonight, not tonight.
Not any more!''
Two years later Beth marries her old
| lover, John Mansen, and goes with him
to his ancient homestead to live. He
denies her no wish of her heart, pleased
| if she but smile on him in return. Soon
little one comes to bear them COM
| pany, and as time rolls on, troop of
children play through the low-raftered
| rooms.
In summer their favorite haunts are
the sunny paths bordered by rows of
tall hollyhocks, and overrun by creeping
myrtle; but in winter they frolic in the
| great garret, where is stored a multitude
of old relics which constitute at once
their childish wonder and delight.
One bitterly cold afternoon Beth sits
in front of the open fire listening to the
wind as it howls through the branches,
shaking the frosty panes with savage
fury, and watching the red embers as
they drop slowly one by one. Suddenly
| there comes rush of eager feet along
the hall, the sound of childish voices,
/ and the harsh twang of discordant notes
Look, mamma" cries Ted, the
eldest. ''You know you told Us never
to touch the old leather trunk that
stands near the south window, the one
that was yours when you We're q girl;
| but Lettie disobeyed, and look what
she found at the bottom hidden away in
long black box. See. it has strings,
and can sound them"
$50 back to your play children
A careful hand takes the violin from
Ted's rough grasp, and closes the door
on the small jewellers. A firm step re-
crosses the room, and stalwart form
| bends over Beth as she still sits in the
! glow OF the fire.
You need not have hidden this
dumb witness from me, Beth" John
says kindly. Il know naught of music,
| but the sight of this is dear to me if
only for the poor lads sake. | know
well that YOU loved him in the old days.
know, too. that L can never be like
him. God casts men in different moulds,
finer or coagSer as the case may be; but
he gave me heart that loves you too
well to bid you remember in silence.
| Beth cannot see the embers now.
There is a curious mist before her eyes;
so she looks up at her husband instead.
''You are q noble man, john" she
answers softly. ''How noble | never
realized before Yes, it is true that
loved the lad. and knowing that you
| possess this knowledge, | will make you
a no less tender and true-hearted wife. !"
And gazing into the upturned face
that, spite of the changes wrought by
Times unyielding hand, is dearer to
him than its girlish counterpart, John
! Mansen smiles and is satisfied.