San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-08-08
MADAME R0QUETTE."

There probably was not brighter nor
cozier room in any house in New York than
the breakfast room in John Wheatleigh's
house. 1t was somewhere in the thirties, just
off Fifth avenue. of which glimpse could be
caught through the east windows, which ad-
mitted q food of sunlight on the glass and
plate and fine damask of the table, and
brought out the golden light 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 matr-
monial sky than the one which was now how
ering over the breakfast table. For that
there 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 husbands face
expressed doubt, anxiety and annoyance in
turn. Though the atmosphere was clear
when the meal began the doubt had been
lurking in John Wheatleigh's eyes ever since
he took his seat at the table. In his heart it
expressed itself in the hesitation between 81
will tell her" and II won't tell her." The
''won'ts" had the best of it at first; it seemed
unnecessary; there was no reason why he
should, and perhaps Nettie would not under
stand it, which would be very awkward.
Then he considered the affirmative side of
the question; Nettie was a thoroughly sensi-
BILE woman; she had never shown the least
trace of jealousy; anything 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.
He looked at her as she bent her pretty
head over the morning paper, humming
little tune meanwhile. She seemed to feel
his gaze, and CHANGING up at him smiled.
Johns heart smote him. How could he think
of keeping anything from his sweet little
wife! Of course he would tell her he was
half sorry he had promised to go; if she OBJ
jected he wouldn't. Just as soon as finish
this egg" thought he. In the meantime I'll
think of the best way to tell her."
That was fatal egg for John. He was
some time in disposing of it. When. he had
finished he cleared his throat and had
actually uttered the initial N of his
wife's name when Mrs. Wheatleigh cried,
"Oh, John, they're going to play Gym
beine tonight; won't you take mes"
That question was the deathknell of John
Wheatleigh's confession. He could never
tell his wife, in excuse for not taking her to
the theatre, that he was going himself with
another lady, or at least a party i'll which
there were other ladies.
Tonight did you say, Nettie? don't be-
lieve can go tonight"
"Oh, John, why not"
won't tomorrow night dor
NO" said Mrs. Wheatleigh, looking at the
paper, this is the only performance Of
'Cymbeline.
Il am going to be out tonight, Nettie; |
don't think l can take you very WELL but
any other night will be glad to-"
You are going to the club, suppose. /
wish you did not spend so much time there Is
this something SO important that it can't be
put off! l do want to see 'Cymbline' 50
much"
"See here Nettie, it's like this" said John:
ed Wilson, friend of mine from out of
town, is going to be here tonight, and l
want to show him around a 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. Wheatleigh's
brow entirely II will be reasonable, John;
of course if you are engaged with your
friend, shan't interfere. I'll tell you what
| might do. If you will get the tickets, Ill
send over to Cynthia Odds to go with me; she
will be glad of the chance. Well take cab
and drive to theatre, and it will be perfectly
safe"
John was glad to have the matter settled
so easily, but his wifes sharp speech still
ranked a little, and he felt that he ought not
to give in all at once.
81 don't like you going out night without
an escort, and l don't like you going with
Cynthia Odds, anyhow. What you see in her
to make you want to continue the intimacy,
/ can't imagine She is silly, simpering old
girl, without an idea that she hasn't got
from some yellow backed novel, and a wo-
man whose tongue runs as hers does is sure
to be a dangerous companion"
Cynthia is not so bad as you make her
out, John; she is foolish about some things,
know, and exaggerates a good deal, but l
never heard her say anything i'll natured
about anybody. 1t is a pleasure to take her
out, she enjoys everything SO much. But as
you evidently do not wish me to go the thea
tire, / shall say no more about it."
There, my dear. you may do as you like"
said John. ASK Cynthia to go with you
and will bring the tickets tonight" And
so all was serene
When John Wheatleigh took his seat in the
elevated train he drew a letter from his
pocket-the letter which caused the little jar
in his home that had so quickly subsidized. He
read it hastily:
NEWARK, N. j., April TO-