Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1890-09-12
HER HEART'S DESIRE.


every married woman when she recalls her
girlhoOd, compares it with her wifehood,
and says, as the case may be, This is bet
ter than that" or THAT was better than
this" Marriage means so much more to a
woman than to a man. He has other in
terests in life his marriage is an episode
10 her it is all of life. If she be happily
married, life offers no substitute for the
happiness that is hers, while an unhappy
marriage is a night that has no morning.
1t is not in the honeymoon, nor yet usually
during the first year of married life, that
the wife knows whether her marriage is a
failure or a success but some time she is
pretty apt to ask herself the question, and
to Honor Kent the time had come. 1t was
one April night Her husband had been
home to dinner, and had gone down
town." as often happened. Honor had
washed her dishes, and put her six months
old boy to sleep, and sat down to sew. 1t
was cold rainy night, more like Novem
ber than April, and Honor shivered as she
sat sewing The Kents lived in a steam
heated fiat, and that night the steam was
low-suited, as often happens, to the sea
son, not the weather. Now if she could
have toasted her feet at a warm fire, while
a tiny teakettle sung on the top of the
stove if little table had stood at her ell
bow, with bright light shining thereon
she might not have fallen into the brown
study that took possession Of her, because
the stove, the teakettle, the little table and
the lamp for generations have been the
synonyms of domestic comfort and happi-
ness but instead of the pretty fire,
steam radiator, which for ugliness stands
unrivaled among the appliances for heat
| ing a ROOM sulked in a corner. Instead OF
a stand and a lamp, dreary rain splashed
against the window. 1t might have been
the absence of the teakettle and the pres
ence of the rain, but more likely it was be-
cause the time had come, that she dropped
her work, leaned her head on her hand,
and gave herself up to thoughts of the past
and the present Not that she had done
no thinking before, but she had steadfastly
crowded some thoughts back during her
married life but tonight they rose up and
demanded that she should listen, and Hon
| or listened She had been a country girl,
| the only daughter of a well to-dO farmer
and John Kent, recovering from fever,
had spent a summer on the farm had fall
en- in love with bar, aud in year-had mar
red her and brought her to New York
| John was in the insurance business and get
ting a good salary, but he did not propose
to be an insurance agent all his life : so
| from the first Honor was instructed as to
the necessity for economy. He seemed to
think rigid economy in his wifes expendi-
ture was more necessary than in his own.
| Fortunately she had been carefully taught
by wise mother and knew the value of
money and at the end of the three years
of married life there was quite a sum in
the bank that some day Mr.. Kent meant
| should be the stepping stone to fortune.
| nj Of fut han
piness that Mrs. Kent thought her mind
was dwelling on past disappointment and
present misery. Was her husband unkind
to her By no means John Kent was
gentleman, and unkinduess to a woman he
| considered barbarism. He was always
courteous in his manner to his wife. When
she asked him for money he gave it readi-
lv, and if he generally added a word of
caution as to its expenditure, that was on
ly force of habit He did not doubt Hon
or's ability to spend the money wisely. As
TO loving his wife, that subject admitted of
no argument. OF course he loved her, or
why did he marry her He never told her
he loved her, that was hardly necessary
after three years, and he called her Hon
or" more often than dear" Pet names
were for babies, still she was not baby
that summer ON the farm, and he called
|
in the city all his life and had hundreds OF
acquaintances, many of whom he would
not care to introduce to his wife Honor
had few acquaintances. Mr.. Kent spent
many of his evenings down town." not all
of them, but more, Honor had noticed,
since little Paul came, particularly even
ings when the baby preferred to perform a
solo in high key rather than sleep quietly
in his crib Mrs Kent was left to quiet
him as best she could, while his father went
down town" "little while" AS the ba-
by claimed her almost hourly, Honor, of
course, rarely went out, aud it became a
common thing for John to say, 81 believe
I'll go to the lecture to night, | believe I'll
drop in before | come home. Wish you
could go too" But the fact that she could
not 90 was no reason why he should stay at
home. The majority of men are selfish a
wise wife will educate some of this out of
her husbands nature. But Honor was not
wise in that respect. She had been here
tofore loving, tender little woman, with
an idea that if she must suffer, she would
suffer in silence.
At length Mrs. Kent had gone over all
this in detail, and she said, almost aloud,
Il don't know, maybe it is better as it is.
If had not married him, l should have
been an old maid, for | never could have
loved any one else half as well as | did
him, and then | should have thought all my
life that had missed something Perhaps
loved him too well they say man only
cares for what he can't get. | don't know
why he does not love me now as well as he
did three years ago, but evidently he don't
Well, l loved him | wanted him; l have
him and there's the baby" She went t
the crib and bent over the sleeping child
and tear dropped on the little fat cheek
} she wiped it off softly. THANK God J
/ she said "you will never shed woman I
| tears, nv darling" She went back to the
chair and took up her sewing again, anC
. her retrospections with it; but gradually
her thoughts centred on her present griev
ances. hate the city," she said, 'anC
5 these close little rooms, and the ugly radi
: ators, and the gas, and-and the elevator,
she finished with a sob. II wish l were
girl again, and back on the farm. haven
seen dandelion since l was married, anC
I this cold, wet night, if | could sit down by
. the kitchen stove, and see the fire burr
and hear the teakettle sing, | believe IL
!: be happy"
! without John and baby Paul y some
I thing whispered.
She stopped sewing again then, anC
thought intently. "NO," she said lit i
| better so, | guess-better TO nave John ant
4 Paul. know baby loves me- And theI
>, she heard her husband coming along tn
! hall. She did not open the door for him a
usual she sat still until he came in.
e "Ah, Honor" he said, working a
usual"
! "Yes."
, He looked at her in surprise Her ton
4 astonished him it was the Indifferent voic
of a stranger, He went out to the kitch
: en-, and hung up his overcoat and sprea'
his umbrella TO dry. When he came back
Honor was folding her work and gettin
ready TO go to bed.
"Have you been lonesome to night ~ h
asked Its an ugly night TO be out"
No." she answered 81 had Paul an
my thoughts"
THE thoughts were pleasant ones,
hope :" he laughed.
"They were not, she answered, calmly
"They were of you"
"Well, upon my word ~ flushing little
"Have l offended you in any way I"
Not in the least" coldly; aud liftin
the sleeping baby in her arms, she went in
To the bedroom aud shut the door.
Mr. Kent took up a magazine aud bega
10 read, but he missed something. IL wa
the first time Honor had left him without