The Arkansaw traveler., 1889-08-03

 away from home and luxury1
 She had been watching for that look and she tried to drive 1t away with the kiss she pressed his eyes.
 "Jackl Don't look 90. It Is only for q little while, deArl only until you have regAined your strength and health and the world turns kind to you Againt"
 "God help me, Mary don't know that 1t ever will" he groaned in bitterness of spirit. "I am only worthless clod. l should never have tried to win you"
 Her sOft frame pressed more closely against him she had taken his worn face between her warm palms.
 "Dare to gay that again." she challenged him with laughing rnut!ny that brought back to him with almost unbearable intensity the memory of their first happy days He drew her to him with passionate gesture.
 "Ah, Mary, there would have been no life for me without you. But tell me what 1t is you found what Is it you are going to dor An, that should have brought you to thisw
 She laid her hand over his mouth.
 "lt is somethiny very quiet-that no one need know About-And only for little while"
 But what is it?" he insisted.
 Sewing" she said, bending her head little As she smoothed c wrinkle from his coat.
 Before the last of the mild weather Mary an- nounced that they could aford themselves one whole day Of rest and recreation In the country.
 You shall drink in health for one day, Jack, be- tween the dry stalks of the sumach and the brown leaves of the blackberry vines"
 They started out in homey fashion, and passed the long, hay hours of the autumn day as Mary had planned them. With the approach of evening they returned by A crowded suburban train. On the platform of the little station they found them- selves In the midst of one of the last excursion parties of the season. Long glances followed Mary, and as two men, obviously frequenters of clubs and race courses l0tered up, And taking the two silent figures for excursionists we'll as the others began to study the faultless face with un- disguised insistence. Jack drew his wife's arm within his own and led her away with furious flush
 al hate to have those men look at you," he mutt tered, full of that keen, smarting jealousy of her which she knew full we'll.
 "What harm does 1t do dear2" she said, shrug- ging her shoulders slightly al did not even see them looking"
 "Your beauty belongs to me-" he insisted, with the nervous, whimsca irritableness of illness "It Is the only thing have left. It seems to despoil me that any other man even should see 1t. l can not bear It."
 "Are you cold, dear2" he asked in 6 moment. He thought she had shivered.
 "A little"
 pang shot through the poor fellows heart Yes, her wrap was thin-very thin-and the even- ing air had feeling of frost.
 As the days became shorter Jacks despondency waxed more and more distinct and incessant. He had found occupation for a few weeks, during which he had insisted that Mary should discontinue her visits to the dressmaker, with whom she had told him that she could get work to do at any time. But his failing strength had soon brought about his dismissal, and the old life had begun anew.
 When Mary left the house on her money earning errand it was always after Jack had gone for the day. She passed through the streets with casional swift glance that scanned the passersby, and effect of seeking to avoid observation. Her way led her always to one street, and to one tall house, over the door of which might be read the legend, "L- Studio Building" As she ap- preached this, one gray morning, a man came up hastily behind her.
 "Either you are earlier than usual or am later, ," he said. He was young, good-looking, and wore that stamp of trim worldliness which in the artist of to-day has displaced the Bohemianism of yore