McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1885-01-08
A ROMANCE OF THE STORES.

II tell you," snorted Mr.. Ramsbury
Browne, waxing purple with rage,
that l absolutely forbid you to hold
iany communication whatever with
Capt. Cannon, and if he comes here
lagain shall turn him out of the
lhousei'' a.e
"Well, you need not be so violent"
protested pretty Mrs. Browne, as she
subsidized in becoming attitude on
the drawing-room sofa, and prepared
for flood of tears. "Only if you in
sist upon my never seeing any man
but yourself, and bully me in this alb
,surd fashion, shall go mad. or run
away. or something" and Mrs. Browne
istitied her sobs in the folds of deli
Icately embroidered handkerchief.
while her lord and master marched
angrily up and down the room, half
ASHAMED of his own suspicious, but de-
termined not to betray any outward
sign of repentance.
Mr.. Ramsbury Browne was rich
city merchant, who had committed the
mot uncommon mistake of marrying
penniless and exceedingly pretty girl,
some thirty years younger than him
self, who, without giving her husband
any definite cause for jealousy, con-
trived to make his life exceedingly un-
comfortable. The reason was not far
to seek. Before she came to London
she had never seen anything; there
fore balls, race-meetings, polo-match-
les, Therapeutics and such like frivol-
ties had for her the charm which nov
lelty alone could give them. Like
most pretty women, she was fond of
admiration; men ran after her, think
ing. not without reason, that she
could not possibly be absorbed in her
dull and uninteresting husband, and
it must be confessed that Mrs. Browne
did not altogether discourage their
attentions. Hence it came to pass
that Brownies jealousy was aroused,
and that he selected his w1fe's friend
ship with the aforesaid Capt. Cannon
as the excuse for an extremely IN
pleasant matrimonial dispute. The
captain himself was a good-looking
hussar, loafng, ne'er- do-well man
or gallant, chivalrous,
and fascinating officer-it all depended
upon the point of view from which
his character was regarded. Needless
to say that Brownies opinion of him
was not the more favorable one, and
when his wife showed a somewhat
marked preference for the captains
society, exchanged little notes. with
him about books, music, and such-like
innocent topics, and was generally fol-
lowed by him wherever she went,
Browne determined that the intimacy
should come to an end.
You're not to see that man again."
continued he, clustering somewhat un-
necessarily, in case his determination
should falter. "Do you hear me, Mrs.
'Oh, yes, 1 hear you," she sob bed.
81 won't see him any more; and per-
haps when you've bullied me into my
grave you will be sorry"
So Mr.. Browne marched off to the
city. filled with the proud conscious
ness that he had gained a great moral
victory and had made his wife exceed.
ingly miserable.
For the next week or two the meek
ness of that young lady was admirable,
and her obedience to her husbands
will positively touching. The demon
of jealousy had, however, taken entire
possession of the bosom of Mr.. Rams
bury Browne, and his wife's somewhat
submissiveness only
served to increase instead of allaying
his suspicious. He thought that she
was merely acting a part, and he
watched her with redoubled vigilance.
In business matters Browne was a
strictly honorable man, and he had a
very good name in the city for honest
and straightforward dealing. Never
theless he did not think it inconsistent
with his dignity to descend to all sorts
of subterfuges in order to catch his
wife tripping. He sometimes came
home at unusually early hours. He
announced that he would
dine out, and then appeared, with some
lame excuse, at the family meal; and
though he did not go so far as to open
his wife's letters he carefully examined
every epistle which came to the house,
in the hope of recognizing the hand
writing of the hated captain. This
sort of thing went on for a week or
two, and nothing came of it. Browne
was beginning to think that, after all,
he was mistaken, when he made a |
which revived all his old |
He had come home early;
his wife was out shopping, and in an
aimless sort of manner he walked into |
her boudoir and sat down at her writ
Browne had rummaged in
all the drawers before. and knew the
position of every paper. Nothing was
changed, and. as a last resource, he
glanced into the waste-paper basket.
There were few bills and circulars, a
torn-up letter and telegram. 1t, too,
was torn into half a dozen or more
pieces, and Browne spent several min
utes in putting them together. Two
or three fragments were altogether
missing, but he managed to make out
quite enough for his purpose. The
telegram had been sent out and re-
ceived that very day, and the follow
ing startling sentence was clearly leg
ible:
..Meet me at the Stores tomorrow
afternoon. Browne is a