The Penn's Grove record., 1884-05-03
THE LITTLE TRIP.

"Really, Clara, l cannot help It'll |
must run down to New York on busi-
ness for the firm and it will be impos-
sible for me to accompany you to your
mothers. l know you will be disap-
pointed, but, what can't be cured
must be enduredl"
And Mr.. Norton, whistling took his
hat from the hall-rack and took his de-
parture. Clara Norton sat silent and a
triie sad; her fair face was clouded and
her blue eyes held a suspicion of tears.
1t was disappointing, truly.
She had been married over a year,
her husband was junior member Of a
fourishing firm, and they had a lovely
little home, and everything that heart
could desire. But the decisions with
which, woman-like, she had blinded
her own eyes, investing, the man she
loved with God-llke attributes, were
being daily torn away, as she saw her
husband growing careless and indlffer-
emit toward her, not cold, but worse, to
a sensitive woman, for he seemed at
times to forget her altogether. And
she loved him SO devotedly that it was
worse than death to her.
The fact was, Henry Norton was a
mar who could be easily managed if
only one knew how, and the lesson was
still to be learned.
Their home was situated in a pretty
town about half a days journey from
the great metropolis, and Clara's wild
owed mother resided at Albany, yet
Clara had not seen her since her own
marriage.
She had been planning a trip to
Albany all the summer. Her husband
had been promised a vacation late IN
the fall; Clara had felt certain that he
would not refuse to accompany her,
and she did not wish to make the trip
alone.
But all that hope was past now. Her
husband informed her at breakfast that
morning that it would be impossible for
him to go; business called him to New
York and Clara must remain at home
during his absence.
think that young wife INDUCED in
"a good cry" when she was left to her.
self; then she went to her desk and
wrote an afrectionate letter to her
mother, trying to make the disappoint-
ment as light as possible. She was
just sealing the letter when her hus-
band made his appearance.
"I'm off, Claral" he announced,
with characteristic abruptness ''the
sooner l start the better, | suppose; so
/ thougot l would run home, pack a
few things and tell you good-bye!"
Clara arose and went quietly to pre-
pare his wardrobe for the trip. In a
short time all was in readiness, and
with a hasty kiss and a careless ''by-
bye-In write often" he Was gone.
Clara busted herself restoring the
room to order; and just as she was
about to hang in the wardrobe the
coat which he had discarded, a scrap
of paper fell from one of the pockets
and huttered to the floor. Involuntary
she picked it up.
1t was the lower half of a sheet of
note-paper which had evidently been a
letter but had been torn in two, and as
she glanced at it carelessly, these words
caught her eye:
snow, Harry, do not fail to he in
New York in time for my masquerade
ball on the sixteenth, or I'll never for
give you. l will keep ever so many
dances for you, 10 do not disappoint
me; and l want to present you to sew
eral pretty ladies who will be present;
but / have warned them all that you
are an unconseionable firt. Your
Cousin.
IRENE"
The sixteenth, and to-day was the
ifteenthl Clara began to see that i'm
perative business trip which prevented
his escorting her to her mothers. No
wonder she stood like one petriied as a
full knowledge of her husbands deceit
dawned upon her mind. The card-re-
ceiyer held at that very moment invi-
tations to the ball for her husband and
herself.
For a long time she stood buried In