The Progress., 1888-09-15
ALL A MISTAKE.
But It Nearly Wrecked the, Hap
piness Of Two Lives

~
cozier room in any house in New York than
tne breakfast room in John Wheatleigh's
mouse. 1t was somewhere in the 3O's. lust
OH OF Fifth avenue, of which a glimpse
could be caught through the east windows
winch admitted flood of sunlight on the
glass and fine damask Of the table. and
brought out the golden lights in Mrs. Wheat
t1eigh's brown hair
There could not have been more agree
able couple to look upon, either-he. tall
athletic, with an open, manly countenance-
she, pretty, elegant and womanly. Thev
We're happy pair, too as happiness goes.
Fand no heavier cloud darkened their matri-
monial sky than the one which was now
hovering over the breakfast table, For that
there was a cloud this morning there could
be no possible doubt. The fullness about
Mrs. Wheatleigh's lips, the droop Of her
] IDS, and the elevation of her eyebrows
formed an undeniable pout, while her hus-
& band's 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 ewes
ever since he took his seat at the table. In
his heart it expressed itself in the hesitation
between II will tell her'' and "I won't tell
& her." The won'ts had the best of it at first:
1t seemed unnecessary; there was no reason
why ne should, and perhaps Nettie would
not understand it., which would be very
awkward. Then he considered the affirm
4 alive. side OF the question; Nettie was a
thoroughly sensible woman, she had never
shown the leasttrace Of jealousy any thing
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 a
little tune meanwhile. She seemed to feel
his gaze, and glancing 1ap 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
ne was half sorry he had promised to go; if
she objected he wouldn't. ttJust as soon as
finish this egg,'' thought he; st;n 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 it. When he had
finished he cleared his throat, and had act
ually uttered the initial N of his wife,a
name when Mrs Wheatleigh cried: 80.
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 party in
which there were other ladies.
Tonight did you say, Nettie2 Idon't be-
lieve that can go tonight"
20, John, why not?'' rNNSr :
.i ssWon't tomorrow night do?,,
mo, !" said Mrs Wheatleigh, looking at
the paper, 'this is the only performance Of
'Cymbeline.'''
q 81 am going to be cut tonight, Nettie; /
don't think | can take you very we'll; but
any other night will be glad tor
You are going to the club, I suppose. I
Wlsh you did not spend so much time there.
Is this something so important that it can't
be put offs lido want to see .Cymbeline, go
much.n
See here, Nettie, it s like this, 2 said John:
8 Ed wilson, a friend of mine from out Of
town, IS going to be here tonight and
want TO show him around q 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. ST will be reasonable, j ohm:
OF. course II you are engaged with your
friend, shan't interfere. I'll tell YOU what
might do. II you will get the tickets, I'll
send over to Cynthia Olds to go with me:
& oAAo VIII po Sllu Ol Tue CnanCe. We'll take
cab and drive to the theater, and it will
be perfectly safe',
4 John was glad to have the matter settled
so easily, but his wife's sharp speech still
rankled a little, and he felt that he ought
not to give in all at once.
I don't like your going out at night with
out an escort, and I 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 a silly, sim
pering old girl, without an idea that she
{ hasn't got from some yellow-b backed novel,
and woman 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 q good deal, but
never heard her say any thing ill-natured
about anybody. It is pleasure to take her,
out, she enjoys every thing so much. But
as you evidently do not wish me to go to the
theater, / shall say no more about it,
There, my dear, you may do as you lilke,''
said John. TASK Cynthia to go with YOU
and will bring the tickets tonight And
so all was serene.
i When John Wheatleigh took his seat in