The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1883-08-01
D0NALD'S WIFE.

WhSh OOudlu hCheOn ludIIlcu his
ward, Jessie Sumner, many of his
friends said he had made mistake.
She was merry, laughing girl Of
eighteen, fresh from school; and he,
her fathers old friend, a quiet, self
contained man of thirty-hve, and it
can scarcely be wondered at that many
wise heads were shaken over the ILL
assorted match.
Jessie had always stood a little in
awe of the quiet, stern man, who had
been frequent visitor at her fathers
house during his lifetime.
But she was quite unproyided for,
and Donald McKeon was wealthy; and
when he asked her to be his wife in a
matter-of-fact way, very much IS he
might have asked her to be his house
keeper, it seemed the easiest way to
solve the troublesome problem of her
life; and beside this, she knew her
father to have been under obligations
to him, and more than suspected that
the three years she had spent at a fash
ionable school since her fathers death
had been at his expense.
And so they were married, and he
took her to the old home that his family
had owned and occupied for genera
ions.
1t was quite a stately house, sur
rounded by handsome, o.d-fashioned
grounds. But little time ago it had
been quite on the suburbs, but the city
had reached out ever-encroaching arms
until now it was surrounded by stately
rows Of brown stone and glaring new
bricks.
But in spite Of its great, handsomely
furnished rooms, its stores of plate and
fine linen, and the bright, old-fashioncd
garden at the back, it seemed a dreary
prison to the laughter-loving girl
wife.
Mr. McKeon had done what he
could to brighten the old rooms, and
had built large conservatory, know
ing that Jessie Was fond of flowers,
and she might have been quite happy
had he known more Of the ways and
needs of women.
But he had always been devoted to
business, caring little for the society
of women, and knowing little of them,
except the grim, old spinster aunt who
had presided over his house since his
mothers death, until he brought his
young wife home.
1t never occurred TO him that it was
dreary sort Of life for a girl like Jes-
sic, alone in the gloomy old house all
day, with only the servants and the
ghosts of bygone generations for COM
pany.
And when she grew pale and listless
and lost her old elasticity of spirits, a
fear that had haunted him since his
wedding day took possession of him
and poisoned his life-a fear that she
had married him for home and position
and already regretted her choice.
Gladly would he have given hei
back her liberty had that been possible
But being a sensitive, undemonstra
tive man, he let her see nothing OF
this, but rather shrank from her be
cause of the wrong he felt he had done
her, and came and went and made NJ
sign.
And then people began to discover
that Mrs. McKeOn was a very charm
ing woman, and her husband wealthy
and influential man, and invitations
began to pour IN upon her.
And Jessie plunged into this new
life of fashionable dissipation with ;
zest that was the natural reaction from
the gloom and loneliness of the pas
year.
AT first her husband accompanied
her wherever she went, for he ha'
somewhat old-fashioned notions as tt
what was right and fitting for womel
TO do.
But it was a life he utterly detested
1t interfered with his business, an(
he looked below the surface and saw
the hollow falsehood it was after al
and it grated on his fine ideas of trutl
and sincerity.
Perhaps he was somewhat dieta
torial in lis manner OF telling he
this; perhaps she imagined So Bu