The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-03-07

it, with blacker sin for her; that it would be even a natural sequel to com mon-place history, and SO an end to it, and retracing of my weary steps along the way had come!
 When we were in London again the jealousy came at last, and l was amazed at the strength and passion of fiat its bewildering effect upon me. She became more eccentric in her manner, a woman with mystery, woman who would not explain. There were days when 1 re- turned home to find she had deserted it. and soon the various excuses offered for her absence aroused my suspicious and did not appear to be the truth. Which they were not. Which presently proved to be lies, but such lies as disarmed my jealousy and filled me with new despair.
 She had discovered her children. She had found out her husbands residence in west-end square, and she had planned and plotted te see them, even to speak to them with all the earnestness and passion of woman at bay.
 Why did you not tell me2" asked, when the secret came cut at last, "why hide it all from m" :"
 You would have been angry"
 "No."
 "And could not keep away. For the soul oi me, Ernest, could not keep away. l wanted to see them, oh, so badly.
 "lt can do no good"
 "l know that"
 "lt may do deal of harm."
 It may she assented. 6VoU ava mt told fh m nh o ,,~., (, ~n oU "Oh, no, God forbid thati have only asked them direction in the street, just to hear the sound of their voices, just to look at them little closer and be sure that they are my own boy and girl. Dontyou understand mel" she screamed; "won't you understand me?"
 "Yes, yes, understand" was my re- ply; ct but this will drive you mad"
 "It is too late in the day for this ex- aggera:ed sentiment" l added, even harshly. |" Had you loved your children more, you would not have gone away from them."
 "That's true," she answered gloomily {: "I own it. was selfish. l cid not think of them at hrst. thought only of you then. r."
 "Oh, Eva, forgive me. did not mean to cast that dart at you."
 !" It is all true," she said "T did not think of them great deal, and I-I knew they would be happy with their father, and well cared for and loved. He was always very fond of children, a just. good, h Ard man." she added thouehtiullv. " and very fond of children, very"
 Vnu cAA all fhir hoe misery to you rendered you wholly un- happy and restless. What is the use of it ?" asked.
 "E don't know" was the helpless an- swer, and she wrung her hands together for an instant; q am trying to see the use of it. How should l know what is gocd2 don't understand why it should come to me after all these years to find them out, to yearn for one look of their bright young faces, as one like me might yearn to look at heaven just for once but 1t has come, and they are my boy and girl. Whatever ! am-whsteyer ! have been-they are mine. Don't you see that9 Don't you see l can't help all this? cantl can't!n
 Her grief, her self-abandonment was SO great that could only attempt to soothe it, implore her to be calm, to be reasonable, to forget my harshness, to exercise some sort of self restraint, and then the calm followed-that dread calm which was very like despair.
 l did not set an interdict on her move ments; did not inquire again where she had been had to let things take their course and remain in ignorance as to which wsy they were tending. seemed to expect catastrophe-to be waiting for ito be wondering how long it would be. And yet was not wholly passive, I was making arrangements to go abro Id again, to be quit of England, this time, forever.
 When the time came to tell her, she shook her head sadly.
 "I cannot go," she answered.
 " have made all preparations"
 "You will kill me if you take mo from England any more," she said but if you insist, l must die"
 l did not answer. I resolved to speak of it again tomorrow, when she was less excitable, when she had grown more ac- customed to the news. l had surprised and shocked her. was not wise man. l did nothing that was right.
 And on the morrow, the catastrophe for which had waited had come. and there was no talking or reasoning with her again. It had come to myself-to me who was unprepared for it, who had not looked for 1t in my own direction, had not dreamed the hand of fate could strike so heavily.
 My horse had taken fright and had been thrown. It was a terrible accident, and they picked me up, as they thought, tor dead. l was carried to the pearest hospital, in one of the wards of which I found myself days afterward, lying like child, speeches., nerveless, with not even the strength to turn my head, Strange faces came and looked at me for an instant and then vanished in | mist that grew about them voices very far away sounded meaninglessly in my ears. where there was always the rushing | of sea and the breaking of its waves in | thunderous booms upon the beach. l l must be at sea, thought, when the | vrkN kAr <vkA | Il