The Arkansaw traveler., 1883-10-06
--=--=ss- ls--------------------- ALMOST roo LATE.
Washington Capital. !.

NSst4tAS SaFtlN44. Charles Archer stood at the door of the one room high up in a noisy tene- ment house in New York, which he called home It was not the welded home he had dreamed of twelve years before. when he uttered the valedictoy at Yale. and when Helen Gordon smiled at the applause that greeted his appearance on the stage. Nor was that crouching figure beside the window, in the untidy prin, dress, with the pretty, sullen face and the uncombed golden hair. much like the graceful belle. whose company he had been so proud. so happy to monopolize upon that golden day.
 am going now, Helen"
 His wife looked up. and caught the ex- preston of ptying regret upon his dark and handsome face. Her heart was full ofangry rebellion against her fate, against herself, against him almost against God.
 "Why do you look at me like that? " she said peevishly "l know that the room has not been swept, and that have not made my toilet for the day My ,oilet:' she laughed bitterly. "When shall l make toilet again. 1 wonder I once set the fashion iA New Haven And, oh. to think -only to think what my life might have been if had been wise.n
 Her husbands face darkened ali over .. understand. he exclaimed. "You mean # you married Paul Hayden instead of fme."
 How can help such thoughts? 1 saw his wife early yesterday morning when I was out. She was driving to the rail way station on her way to their country house for the summer heard the foot
 man say so to some one when he went to oay the tickets for her. And. oh what difference there was between us two. No wonder she has kept Ter beauty. No wonder l have los, mine. Beauty and health, and youth and happiness. they are all going away from me because we are so poor.'
 Better days may be coming love" said the husband, after a pause Il have heard of good sl,ultion a, this time. you know. If l gel It 1t will be a step ping-stone 10 other things of more conse- quence. And when l ain rich, you know well. my darling. tha, shall refuse you nothing"
 You have though, so m any times that better days were close a, hand. Ard every time you have been disappointed. and We have lived on the same horrible life" was the discouraging reply.
 know, my dearest; bu, this is really good meas. l ,rus, and hope If you will oniy kiss me and wish me good luck have faith that II 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 ,he happy days of courship. But love, so 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 discordan, street cries without, the shabby disordercd room within, the general sense of her own un- hdiness, and the galling memory of the freshly beautiful summer costume worn bj the wife of Paul Hayden. as she lounged in her carriage the previous day all these things combined to banish the ahectionate glance for which the hus- bands heart. so vainly hunge.ed. and to make the wife $ parting kiss so cold and formal that it fingered like ice upon the young mans lips as he turned away.
 He said nothing. bu, the deep sigh that seemed to come from the very depths Va tried and overladen hear. silently re- preached her.
 She caught last glimpse of his face as he closed the door. IL wore look of re- pressed sorrow that would haunt her 10 her dying day. What evil spirit had tempted her to try him SO: Was it his taulf that, by the failure of bank in the great panic" the savings of years of steady toil had been lost in a moment: Had he not labored faithfully ever since for her support? For her uagrateful sake. had he not even stopped to meniA toil, when no other employment could be pro cured?
 And now she had sent him from her uncheered by look or word of fondness What if some accident should happen to the trziE by which he was to travsi What if he should never return? For . moment she sat dumb, almost paralyred by the shock of that ideA Then she spsang from her chair and rushed to the door. She would call him back, and ask hin to forgive that careless, cruel part ing. She was too late He was already ia the street. A moment later she heard the shrill whistle of the train. He vas gone.
 The day passed on sadly enough. Thought after thought came cTowding into her mind to unsetfle and reps0ve her. They bore their fruit In le8 than an hour affer Charless Archer's departure bis home wore . veEy different aspect. By nightfall the one room vas trim and clean as willing hands could make it. Before the clean windows . pair of snowy muslin curtains were drawn. The stove