Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1885-03-13
CALLED BACK.
A Wen-Told Story of Continuous
and Absorbing Interest
by HUGH CONWAY.
CHAPTER VII.
AIAINI nET krInNsnTn

by HUGH CONWAY.
CHAPTER VII.
CLAIMING RELATIONSHIP.
Yes, She was glad to see me back! In
her uncertain clouded way she well
coined me. My great fear, that in the
short time she would have entirely for
gotten me, was groundless. She knew
me and welcomed me. Nv poor
Pauline. If could but find the way to
bring those truant senses back once
morel
For months and months nothing of
Importance occurred. If my loves mind
was, as Ceneri predicted, to be gradual
ly restored, the process was tedious
one. At times thought her better-at
times worse. The fact is there was little
or no change in her condition. Hour
after hour she sits in her apathy and
hstlessneSs; speaking only when spoken
to; but willing to come with me any,
where; do anything l suggest, when
ever, alas! | express my wish in words
she can comprehend. Poor Pauline!
The greatest doctors in England have
seen her. Each says the same thing.
Sic may recover; but each tells ne the
recovery would be made more possible
if the exact circumstances which brought
about the calamity We're known. These,
l doubt. if we shall ever learn.
For Ceneri has made no sign, nor has
Macari sent his promised information.
The latter, after his last malicious
words, l dread more than | wish for.
Teresa, who might have thrown some
light on the subject, has disappeared. l
blame myself for not having asked the
doctor where she was to be found; but
doubtless he would have declined to tell
me. So the days go on. All | can do
is, with Priscilla's assistance, to insure
that my poor girl is made as happy as
can be, and hope that time and care
may at length restore her.
We are still ut Walpole street My
intention has been to buy house and
furnish it. But why? Pauline could
not lool after it-would not be interest
ed in tit would not be home So we
stay on at my old lodgings and live
almost the live of a hermit.
l care to see no friends | am, in
deed, blamed for forsaking all my old
acquaintance. Some who have seen
Pauline attribute my lack of hospitality
to Jealousy; some to other causes; but,
us yet, believe no one knows the truth.
There are times when l feel / can not
bear my grief-times when / wish that
Kenyon had never led me inside that
church ut Turin; but there are other
times when feel that, in spite of all.
my love for my wife, hopeless as it is,
has made me n better and even a hap
pier man. l can sit for hours looking
at her lovely face, even as l could look
ing Mt picture or statue. l try to
imagine that face lit up with bright in
telligence, as once it must have been.
long to know what can have drawn that
dark curtain over her mind, and pray
that one day it may fall aside and may
see her eyes responsive to my own. If
| felt sure this would ever be l would
wait without murmur, if needs be, till
our hair has grown gray.
l have this poor consolation-what-
ever the effect Of our marriage may have
been upon my life, it has, at least, not
made my wife's lot sadder one. Her
days am sure must be brighter than
those when she was under the super
vision of that terrible old Italian wom-
an. Priscilla loves her and pets her
like child, whilst well, do every
thing can which fancy may give her
such pleasure as she is capable of feel
ing. Sometimes, not always. she seems
to appreciate my efforts. and once or
twice she has taken my hand and raised
it to her lips as if in gratitude. She is
beginning to love me as child may
love its father, as some weak helpless
creature may love its protector. This is
poor recompense, but l am thankful
even for this
So, in our quiet household, the days
pass by and the months glide away I'M
til the winter is over and the laburnums
and lilacs In the little plots in front of
houses in the suburbs are in bud.
1t is fortunate that am fond of books. |
Without that taste life would indeed be
colorless. have not the heart to leave |
Pauline alone and seek society on my |
every day reading and studying, whilst
my wife sits in the same room silent I'M
less address q remark to her.
1t is a matter of great grief to me that |
am almost entirely debarred from |
hearing the sound of music. soon
discovered that its effect upon Pauline
was prejudicial. The notes which |
soothed me in some way seemed to ir-
ritate her and make her uneasy. So,
unless she is out somewhere with old |
Priscilla and am left alone, the piano
is unopened: the music-books lie I'M
used. Only those who love music as I
love it can understand how great de-
privation this is to me.
One morning as / sat alone was told
that gentleman wished to see me. He
gave the servant no name, but instructed
her to say that he was from Geneva l
knew it must be Macari. My first inn
pulse was TO send back word that ]
would not see him. Again and again,
since our last meeting, his words had
come back to me-those words which
limited at something in Pauline's past
which her uncle had an object in conceal
ing. But each time / thought Of them
decided they were only the malicious
insinuation of . disappointed man. who
having failed to win the-Eoman he
loved, wished to make his favored rival
suspicious and unhappy. feared moth
ing he could say against my wife, bat
disfking the man, / hesitated before
giving instructions for his admittance.
Yet Macari was the only link between
Pauline and her past; Ceneri / felt sure i
should never see again; this man was
the only one remaining from whom it
was possible to learn anything respect
ing my wife. The one person whose
appearance could, by any chance, stimu-
late thAt torpid memory, and, perhaps,
influence the state of her mind by sug-
costing. no matter how dimly. scopes
and events in which be must have played
. part So thinking. decided that the
man should be admitted. and, moreover, /
that he should be brought fsce to face /
with Pauline II he wished 70 do 20 be 1
might speak to her of old days, even old !
passion anything that might aid her