The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1889-06-22
THEIR SEPARATION.
It Wasn't Half So Pleasant as
the Reconciliation.

1t was the only possible end to it. What
was the use of passing the whole of their
lives in the atmosphere cS wrangling and
discrimination in which the first five years
of their welded existence had dragged mis-
erably on! They had married too young,
that was the whole secret of it. Edward
MoXon at twenty-one and Ida Beverley at
eighteen, had taken each other for better,
for worse, with little more thought than
they would have devoted to the taking of a
partner for waltz.
Then came the leisurely repentance. He
was hot-tempered, hasty, intolerant; she
was spoilt, petulant, jealous and exacting
They were getting into debt, too, through
her extravagant Encouragement of his far
from princely income.
At last Edward Moxon, who was an en-
gineer, young man of talent, with a career
before him, boldly preached the subject of a
separation. 1t could be managed without
the least scandal, as he could exchange
places with another young fellow who had
gone to Eastern Russia, and who was trying
to get off the journey in order to remain
with his wife and children Now, the Mox-
ons had no children, and they were misera-
bic together. At first the idea of separation
shocked Ida, but brooding over it for two or
three more unhappy weeks made her at
least as anxious for it as he. So that when
he got the coveted post it was understood
that, unless they should change their minds
before he returned to England and signify
the fact to each other by letter, the separa-
ton should be permanent.
When Edward Moxon returned to En-
gland six months later. his wife had disap-
peared, and all that he could learn about her
was that she and her mother had left En-
gland and were travelling abroad.
Then, of course, he saw his mistake, and
knew that even the old iarring life they had
led together would have been better than
this freedom which was no freedom. He
saw that the fault between them had not
been entirely on the side of the pretty girl
wife whom he had taken from a luxurious
and extravaganza home, and had neverthe-
less expected to find model of all house
wifely virtues. There was nothing to be
done now, however, but to hope that a time
would come when the spirit would prompt
her to return. In the meantime he settled
to bachelor life with his old chum, Jimmy
Constable, who. however, declared him to
be ''spoilt' for companion, and said that
he was no longer fish, flesh, fowl, nor good
red herring.
Still they logged on together, seeing little
year. at the end of which period Jimmy one
evening brought home the news that they
had received an invitation to picnic up the
river, which he, Jimmy had accepted for
both of them To his friends circumstances
he turned deaf ear.
'My dear boy" he said, decidedly, otis
of no use Directing. You're growing pos
itively musty with seclusion; you must
come out and air yourself By-the-b by" he
added, carelessly, "there's a Miss Halliwell
going to be there, who is said to be the liv-
ing image, except that she isn't so tall, of
Mrs. Moxon"
''Then shan't go. I don't wish to be re-
minded of my five years of welded misery"
''They haven't improved you, certainly.
But my remedy is-forget them.'
Jimmy had his way about the picnic 1t
took place at Sunbury, and Edward Moxon
found, to his surprise, this return to the
harmless pleasures of life by no means so
irksome as he had expected. Miss Halliwell
was very pretty girl undoubtedly, tall,
slight and fair, of the same type as his wife,
as Jimmy Constable had said. She was a
desperate fiirt, and Edward, who was i'm
questionable, was really somewhat in love
with her before the day was over. 1t was
dark before the party broke up. Some were
TO return by rail, and others by boat and
rail. Moxon, who was good oarsman, was
entrusted with pair-oared skiff, which he
was to take as far as Messengers boat-house
at Richmond. As he insisted on seeing
every body else off before he himself
started, it was very late when he sauntered
down to the place where the boats were
moored.
You'll get wet through long before you
get to Richmond, sir,n SAID one of the men
in charge of the boats. "It's good long
pull, and, if we don't have thunder and the
rain comm down like winkin' in about half
an hour, why my name amt Bob Stokes"
Moxon quite agreed with Bob, but he was
in the humor to wish to get wet through, SC
he got into the skiff and was on the point OF
pushing off when Jimmy Constahles voice
calling to him loudly to stop, caused him TO
turn round.
'Hallo!'' cried Jimmy, ana in few mo.
nent's he was at the waters edge. "Would