Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1888-08-30
ALL A MISTAKE.
But It Nearly Wrecked the Hap
piness of Two Lives.

plnesS Of Two Lives.
There probably was not brighter or a
cozier room in any house in New York than
the breakfast room in John Wheatleigh's
house. 1t was somewhere in the 30's, just
of of Fifth avenue, of which a glimpse
could be caught through the east windows,
which admitted flood of sunlight on the
glass and fine damask of the table. and
brought out the golden lights in Mrs. Wheat
leigh's brown hair.
There could not have been a more agree
able couple to look upon, either-he, tall,
athletic, with an open, manly countenance-
she, pretty, elegant and womanly. They
were happy pair, too, as happiness goes,
and no heavier cloud darkened their matri-
monial sky than the one which was now
lowering over the breakfast table. For that
{ ere was cloud this morning there could
be no possible doubt The fullness about
Mrs. Wheatleigh's lips, the droop of her
lids, and the elevation of her eyebrows
formed an undeniable pout, while her hus-
bands face expressed doubt, anxiety and
annoyance in turn. Though the atmosphere
was clear when the meal began. the dou bt
had been lurking in John Wheatleigh's eyes
u
his heart it expressed itself in the hesitation
between II will tell herr and ~ won't tell
her." The won'ts had the best of it at first:
1t seemed unnecessary; there was no reason
why he should, and perhaps Nettie would
not understand it, which would be very
awkward. Then he considered the affirm
alive side Of the question; Nettie was a
thoroughly sensible woman, she had never
-Ch hal CT
that he would tell her about. honestly and
openly, she would consider right, or if she
did not she would tell him so gently and
without any fuss.
Ole looked at her as she bent her pretty
head over the morning paper, hummine a
little tune meanwhile. She seemed to feel
his gaze, and glancing up at him, smiled.
Johns heart smote him. How could he
think of keeping any thing from his sweet
little wife! OF course he would tell her
he was half sorry he had promised to go; if
she objected he wouldn't. Just as soon as
l finish this egg" thought he; ''in the mean
time I'll think of the best way to tell her."
That was fatal egg for John. He was
some time in disposing of il. When he had
finished he cleared his throat, and had act
ually uttered the initial n of his wife's
name when Mrs Wheatleigh cried: 20,
John, they are going to play 'Cymbeline'
tonight; won't you take me-"
That question was the death knell of John
Wheatleigh's confession. He could never
tell his wife, in excuse for not taking her
to the theater, that he was going himself
with another lady, or at least a party in
which there were other ladies.
Tonight did you say, Nettie. don't be-
lieve that can go tonight"
20, John, why not!'
won't tomorrow night dow
NO" said Mrs. Wheatleigh. looking at
the paper, this is the only performance of
Cymbeline'"
II am going to be out tonight, Nettie: I
don't think can take you very well; but
any other night l will be glad tor
You are going to the club, l suppose. l
wish you did not spend so much time there.
Is this something so important that it can't
be put of: do want to see 'Cymbeline' SO
much"
See here, Nettie, it's like this" said John;
Ed Wilson, a friend of mine from out of
town, is going to be here tonight, and
want to show him around little and-and
take him to the club, perhaps; in fact, I've
written to him promising to meet him.
Now do be reasonable, Nettie."
The cloud lifted from Mrs. Wheatleiph,s
brow entirely. Il will be reasonable. John:
of course if you are engaged with your
friend, 1 shan't interfere I'll tell YOU what |
l might do. If you will get the tickets. I'll |
send over to Cynthia OIds to go with me:
she will be glad of the chance. Wen take |
a cab and drive to the theater, and it Will |
be perfectly safe"
John was glad to have the matter settled |
so easily, but his wife's sharp speech still |
ranked little, and he felt that he ought |
not to give in all at once
81 don't like your going out at night with |
out an escort, and l don't like Your going |
with Cynthia Olds, anyhow. What you see |
in her to make you want to continue the in
timacy, can't imagine. She is silly, SIM |
pering old girl, without an idea that she
hasn't got from some yellow-backed novel.
and a woman whose tongue runs as hers
does is sure to be dangerous companion
Cynthia is not so bad as you make her
put, John; she is foolish about sons things.
know, and exaggerates good deal. Int
never heard her say any thing ill-natnrad
about anybody. 1t is pleasure to take her
put, she enjoys every thing so much. But
IS you evidently do not wish me to 90 tn the
.heater, shall say no more about it"
There, my dear, you may do as YOU like
,aid John. Ask Cynthia to go with YOU |
and will bring the tickets tonight And
20 all was serene.
When John Wheatleigh took his seat in
The elevated train he drew letter from his
letter which caused the little
jar in his home that had so quickly 81 bsided-
BE read il hastily:
NEWARK, n. J., April 10-Dear wheatleish:
am coming over TO New York on Thursday
6itn my wife and her sister-you remember
Ethel Of course. We want to go somewhere in
The evening. and would be delighted to have Won
oin Us at the Holman House az sir for dinner,
,ad make partie csrree. hear the opererta
d Madame Roquette' is very good; may corn-
mission you TO secure four places for our party |
and don't fail to meet u.s. Ny wife wishes to |
De remembered. Yours truly. E. 81. WILSON,
"Coufound it" he muttered, 81 don't like
~ wish ! hadn't been in such hurry to
accept his invitation"