Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1888-05-03
CHAPTER XXvI.
ONE SHORT HOUR.

It was n week later that the Breton ba-
rouche came over the brow of the hill toward
Mr.. Elingsworth's house. The bay span
never steifed so proudly, and certainly the
gold plated trimmings on their harness never
glittered so brightly before. As the carriage
had passed through the lower village the fac
tory girls had al rushed to the windows to 3
see the master and his bride, and for the mo-
ment the laborers on the foundations of the
new mill stopped their work in one accord,
and were all eyes till the bridal couple were
out of sight. Philips face was fairly radiant
with hope and love, and he could not teach
his eyes to look anywhere but at Bertha. She
glanced idly on either side, at the white
gloved coachman on his high seat or at the
prancing horses, anywhere but into the earn
est, tender face, which might have been a
constant reproach to her calm indifference.
Clearly enough, the clouds that had settled
so gloomily about his wedding night had
lifted; his love and the sweet reality Of his
present life and his new sense of duty toward
the woman who now called him husband, all
helped him to put away her past, even to its
most terrible incident, and his healthful
mental nature was rapidly building up new
life which should have no taint in it. Philip
Breton made noble lover. Perhaps it was
because he was not a great man. He was not
so wise but that he believed in the reality of
the sunbeams poets make their love songs of.
He had many holy aspirations; he caught
now and then glimpses of ideal beauty and
truth. In some vague way he fancied all
these We're realized in Bertha. In her he
loved all the harmones In her he worshiped
purity and charity and al the graceS.
As for Bertha, she continually found new
surprises in his gentleness and in his devo-
tion--surprises partly because she forgot
them each time She really wished he were
not so devoted She wished he did not make
her feel as if she were forever posing in tab
leaux She thought him inclined to De fool
ish, because he did not seem keen eyed
enough to see her most obvious faults-not
magnanimous enough herself to understand
that he looked at her through halo of glory
his love had put about her. In spite Of her.
self he could see something beautiful and
good in everything she could do OF say.
''We are just passing my home" she said, n
little petulantly; cant you see anything but
meF'
"This is not your home now, my dear" He
corrected her very gently As he glanced
into the windows of the parlor where they
had been married, Jane Ellmgsworths dark
face looked ont at them, cruel and malevo-
lent Philip started forward i'll his seat.
Why, no, he must have been wrong, the face
in the window, was wrcathed in the most
charming smiles. She oven kissed her fingers
to tho bridal pair, and let u sheet of paper
She had been holding fiutter to the floor in
her clldlike enthusiasm. Bertha nodded
coldly, Philip lifted his silk hat, and the car
riage passed out Of sight.
Philip was too wise to weary his wife just
now by showing her ell the changes in his
home, which would delight her SO much
'er. He knew by her dropping step, as she
talked along the hall, that she was tired and
could appreciate rest above all things. So
he took her FIRST to her own little sitting
room, which he called her boudoir He had
rather expected little lighting up of her
eyes, perhaps some pretty exclamation of
pleasure Possibly he had made an absurd
artistic hlunler Could it be he had got the
wrong shade of blue after all! She only
threw off her bonnet and sat down in the
least inviting of the chairs without seeming
to care to look about her at all.
"You must be tired, Bertha" said Philip
at last, trying to hide the disappointment
that made his heart swell so painfully.
"Wont you sit i'll the easy chair! I am sure
pyl will like it, though perhaps you would
rather lie down"
''Oh, no, | am not tired" she said, care
iessly, without turning her eyes to look at
him where he stood, restlessly playing with
the window curtains. He pulled roughly ut
them, he longed that moment to ruin the
beauty that had failed to please her. He
could not see where the fault was; the carpet
was as thick and soft as bed of violets, the
light seemed delicate almost as some perfume,
but Bertha did not seem to care for anything
he had devised for her. She was going to
speak; if she would only criticise, he would
change everything again to win smile cf
approval from her. She might at least un,
derstand how much he had tried to please
her.
''Where does that door openm
II will show you if you are not tired" yet
he dreaded to take her in that room, and see
her as cold aul indifferent MS she was now.
He felt it would break his heart.
She rose to her feet and looked in curiosity
at him as he took key from his breast
pocket and turned it in the lock. SIS it your
treasure chamber!'
''Yes,n he whispered, and threw open the
door, and stood back for her to enter The
room seemed as pure and white as If a thou
sand angels brooded over it with their snowy
wings. Peace and holy rapture seemed
breathing from the vcry walls, and the
young bride felt o new timidity steal oveI
her heart. She was awed indescribably in
the temple of love he had made for her. Poor
soul! would there be but one true worshiper'
"Come,n she said, and she smiled more sweet
ly than he had ever ssen her. She held her
hand out toward him, as he fingered on the
threshold.
He came and took her hand and then put
his arm about her as she stood in exquisite
pensiveness, struggling to take in the mean
ing of the place. She had cast her eyes down
on the carpet, which seemed like the driven
snow, sparkling with hail drops. The
solemn beauty of her chamber subdued hel
like o child.
"You would not dare to kiss me here
Phiip;p she said at last in voice so gentle
and thrilling, it seemed to his throbbine
heart as if new soul had been born within
her. "It is SO pure and"--
But he drew her unresisting form into hii
arms, and kissed her full cool lips again and
again, and she did not stir on his shoulder
but her great blue eyes look startled re
proacb at his ardor.
sThere is no place too pure for the kisse:
I have for you"
There never will be an hour in PhiliI
Breton's after life, when he shall not lool
back to this moment as worth oil his agony
Ia. ,.,fI