The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-01-21
4 WIFE, AND 4 FRIEuD.
CHAPTER I.

her own provider,
 And she welcomes him in, washes his weedy
 garment, and clothes him anew;
 It is pleasant on shore to him whom his love
 awaits. The Song 0| BeoWuU.
 Max Simmond had not come so far, nor been absent from home so long, as Beowulfs seafarer. He had only been spending a long November day toil- ing round his farm in the mud but as he stood on the wooden bridge over the swift, rain-swollen river, he was filled with just the same spirit of home worship. Always, at the end of every days work, when he saw that light, there came over him deep feel ing of gladness and reverence. He did not quite understand it, but he enjoyed it. A vague memory rose of the tones of the organ as it had sounded in the little sunlit church when Mu- riel and he were married. It was as if he heard Muriel singing through the darkness, or as if she had been able to stretch out her hand through the dis tance to touch him; as if in the bright ness of that light he could see at once all the beauty, and hope, and content of his home.
 Max Simmond was a big, fair haired, quiet voiced man, palpably a descendent of the old Saxon settlers one of the steadfast, patient, home- loving race-only through time, and peace, and the soft climate of the in- land valleys, the former fierceness had died out, and only the strength and sweetness remained, as it remained in the strange, wild air he was whistling, once, perhaps, fierce war song, now softened and mellowed till it seemed like dream of battles and conquests long ago.
 Max Simmond had not, perhaps, much individual character. He was neither brilliant nor heroic; his vir- tues were chiefly negative. He was brave because it would not have oc- cured to him, under any circum- stances, that there was anything to be afraid of; truthful, half from lack of imagination, half because he could not have realized any motive for lying. He would have been a good husband under any circumstances but married to Muriel why, he gave the whole strength of his nature to trying to satisfy her And she was satisfied, and that, of course, proved her good ness and sweetness, and made him the happiest man in the whole world.
 He stopped again at his own gate to remove the cartridges from his gun. Muriel liked him to carry gun when he went round the farm, not that there was much likelihood of his shooting anything, but she thought the gun looked well. It was distinct mark of caste, and showed the land he farmed was his own.
 Max entered the house by the back door, as he always did in muddy weather, and he took off his boots in the back entry, as became docile and we'll taught husband He felt for his slippers in the accustomed place, but, not finding them there, hung up his wet ulster and went forward into the hall.
 Through an open door Max could see his graceful, sweet voiced wife, and he paused again, as he always did, to enjoy moment of unexpressed thanktulness for her, sort of mental "Grace before Muriel :" then he saw she was not alone. His own old friend, his one chosen chum, Philip May, who had been abroad nearly two years, was with her.
 Max was flashing forward with eager words of welcome, when he re- membered that Muriel would certainly be annoyed if he entered the room in his stockings when she had visitor. At that moment Muriels voice-mu- sical and reproachful-tender almost -floated out to him.
 "How can you blame me, Philip? You had left me in anger. You had said you would never see me again."
 "But I took all that back; I begged your forgiveness for what I had said. In the letter I wrote you I implored you to forget it, and to remember only how l loved you, and that you had given me your promise"
 "In the letter yeu wrote me?"
 "Yes-the night I sailed. said all that and more. Max was seeing me off; gave the letter to him because it would reach you sooner SO. Muriel, why do you look like that? Have you nothing to say? Muriel, is it possible that Max did not give you my letter."
 A moment before Max had been about to make his presence known; now he stood waiting, for it was Mu- rieFs right to answer the question.
 There was a moments intense si- fence then he heard his friends voice again in amazed, half-incredulous doubt:
 "Max! dear old Max! Muriel, it can't be SO. There is not true man on the face of the earth if Max is false. Muriel, you would defend him if it were possible. No, don't speak.