The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1885-04-23

Al last came q letter not from Paul.
but from her little fair-haired cousin
Elsie, written in the first flush of Il
brides happiness.
''She was Judith's neighbor now,
living only twenty miles away, in the
dearest old house. where Judith must
come and spend j month with her.
She would tell her nothing about her
husband. She had told him nothing
about Ter. because she intended them
to surprise one another. They would
be great FRIENDSHIP was sure.
Judith was tired of her own anxious
thoughts. There was something con-
tagious, too. in E!sie's gaietv and hope,
and so she went.
1t was sunset when she reached the
place. fine house, just old enough
to avoid that painful look of newness
common TO modern country houses,
! and standing in full view of the river,
I TO which slopcd banks, shaded by ma
pies, elms, and willows.
''They were all out in the grounds"
the servant told Judith.
And, hearing merry singing, she
stole around the corner of the house.
to surprise them. Elsie. looking up
/ spied her, and gave gleeful shout.
Her husband. who was sitting on a
bank, started to his feet, and faced Ju-
dith.
Ii was Paul. The shock WAS too aw-
ful: and Judith, who had never known
days illness, and scoffed at the men-
tion of nerves, fell senSelcss at his feet
If she had died then and there, bless
cd and happy had it ben for her! But
the efforts of the unsuspicious Elsie
soon brought her back to life, while
warning look from Paul checked the
words that were on her lips.
Heat and fatigue were limited at; her
! JOYOUS cousin was too much occupied
with her own happiness to think long
about the matter. aud Judith did her
best to shine in the virtuOus hypocrisy
and moral suicide line, which women
are so fond of.
! Paul only was silent.
| Sitting apart in the shadow. his wife
thought him uninterested aud sleepy.
Judith knew lis eyes were fixed on
her-that he was watching every move.
and noticing every infection OF voice.
Though he was almost As motionless
as if he had ceased to breathe, she felt
that he was questioning her. tierceiy.
eagerly. and that, spite OF herself. she
was answering him.
She blushed, and shrank away in the
very silence and solitude Of her own
room, when she thought OF what his
| eyes had said TO her
When she looked into her own heart
she cried out, and struck her hands
| together, and seizing what she had al
| ready taken from her trunk. began 10
| thrust it back again in desperate haste.
S,nrnpOna fpnnhad
! ing up she met the eyes that had haunt
| ed her
"Paulr'
Well, Judith. and oh. what
depths of tenderness in his voice
''you are not afraid OF me?"
'No, not afraid.
why are You going, then? For
you are going; know what these prep
arations mean
''iiecausc am not stone nor steel.
| should go mad.
Then you did love me?'
'if it will give you any pleasure to
| know. yes"
The light that had terrified her be-
fore leaped up in Paurs eyes.
My darling. you need not shrink
from me. You have nothing to fear
! Only stay. judith, if you love Elsie,
! stay. 1t has been so long since | have
been near you. looked into your eyes,
heard you speak. Deprive me not of
it too suddenly. Let me contemplate
and grow familiar with my sorrow, or
| | shall die in my despair"
''Oh, Paulm she burst forth, s'why
did you stay away all this weary time,
and why did you let me come here?"
''Why did you answer me as you did,
the last night we were together. Ju-
dith? AS for your coming, | knew
nothing of it 1 never dreamed that
Elsie's Judith. was my Judith"
Poor Elsie'
..You pity her? Stay, then. If YOU
go now she will learn all. Stay, and
] promise not to offend by word or
| look"
So Judith stayed-from pity for
Elsie, said her deceived heart. Cruel
mercy. that held the poison to her own
| lips day by day.
| At first the guileless Elsie saw moth
ing of the tiny cloud arising, that was
| one day to darkcn her whole horizon.
! She flncied that, somehow. Paul and
Judith didn't agree. aud. anxious that
they should know and appreciate one
another, was continually leaving them
alone together, fancying that her pres
| ence was restraint.
Bv one of those convenient sophis-
tries which poor humanity calls in
when right and reason have deserted
it, Paul argued that because his wife
was pure and trusting, there was
DESTINY managing his affairs over which
he had no control.
Presently he ceased to argue ut all.
| He took matters out of destiny's hands
and refused to listen to conscience.
1t was all the worse that he dared
not speak out the thoughts Of his heart.
| lie was all the more eager to be by
her-his eyes more constantly sought
her face. She seemed to move in an
atmosphere of his waiting and watch
fulness.
Again Judith wished to go. Again
she stayed for Elsie's sake.
At length. what experience had not
shown the poor young bride, instinct
did She felt first that there was re
straint and unhappiness. She saw that
she was repeatedly forgotten. There
were walks and conversations IN which
she had no share; illusions that she
could not understand; looks that made
her angry and frightened even Ii think
of.
Once the horses ran away, and she
and Judith were thrown out. Judith
was only slightly scratched; yet on
coming out of her death-like swoon.
she saw h'r husband kneelng by her
cousins side, and forgetfnl OF her very
existence.
People talked and shook their heads
The servants vowed loudly that IT was
shame; and, at last, even Elsie's geu-
tie spirit rose.
She had been waiting supper fnr her
husband and Judith. who had gone ont
to hunt yiolets. aud it was two hours
past the usual lime when she saw them
coming slowly across the fields.
Judith. coming in alone. remarked
her looks with surprise, and stopped
to kiss her But Elsie drew back.
NO. Cousin Judith, don't! | cant
say Our Father any more. because
think OF You always; and | sometimes
feel as if you were SO cruel that can
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