Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1892-12-10

choose, for loved you well, in spite
of your neglect. But it grew worse
and worse. You ceased going out
with me at all until in very shame
l remained closely at home that the
world might not observe and censure
your Indifference. Desperate with
misery I reproached you, appealed to
you, and--you grew angry, called me
unreasonable and hysterical and grew
colder and more Indifferent than
ever. Then l turned for solace to my
two little ones, but l could not find
the comfort that l sought. l grew
hopeless and bitterly resentful, but
suffered on in silence, realizing that
/ had missed my soulmate and could
expect no joy in my life.
He had listened in resentful silence
to the passionate arraignment of a
tortured woman's heart. Now he
cried out impatiently;
''Elinor, I was always true to you.
I never had thought of another
woman"
II know that, Hunter. was jeal-
Gus of men, not women. You were
SO fond of your own sex, you spent all
your time with them, you enjoyed
their society more than mine, and so
Il was left alone, the gladness went
out of my life, / grew bitter and re
bellious. l wanted to get full meas
ure of joy out of this life of mine,
but my i'll judged marriage had
wrecked it-eternally, l thought,
But now-oh. Hunter, do not think
me hard a.7d cruel, for am but just
to myecif end you.
%, Il seems to me that when
you gone, and l am over my
griey may yet retrieve the past,
may = dud my twin soul, the one
God ere. 4 for me, and be happy.
And so I cannot promise what you
ask me, for it would be a wrong to
myself and to my ideal, who may
yet be mine have right to some
happiness in my life, Hunter, and
why should sacrifice all my future
to you, who would not give me the
past years that were rightfully miner"
and her cheeks burned and her eyes
cleaned with the truth of her words,
as she arraigned her selfish, egotisti-
cal husband.
He lay gasping and soul stricken
before the fire of those vivid home
truths. His self love had received a
cruel wound.
Despite his selfishness he had loved
Elinor well after his own fashion,
and he was not willing to admit that
she had any cause of complaint.
In way it enraged him that his
fair, gentle young wife had dared to
think out problem Of life for her
self had SO individualized herself as
to claim for herself a future Of bliss
in which he could have no part.
And just then she murmured pa
thetically:
"All this would have been differ
ent, Hunter had you but loved me
truly, and sought my happiness in
stead of your own 1t was my right
and your duty. And you can see,
now that you have been i'll for SO
many weeks, how little you were
cared for by men in whose society
you took your chief delight. Have
they been near you to comfort or
censole2 No, they scarcely give you
thought 1t is l, your neglected
wife, who have been your devoted
nurse! And, Hunter, had you been
as devoted to me these past years, l
would have remained your inconsol-
able widow to my life's end; but, as
I have said, it-is-different."
Anguish flashed from his eyes as
he cried out:
81 am glad you have been so frank
before ms de my will. shall not
leave you one penny more than you
can claim under the law. The rest
shall 60 to my children. 1 will not
leave my money to be squandered by
your second husband"
She smiled patiently, but she an
swered firmly:
But / have no ambitions. l do
not want my husband to be great,
only good and loving, and always
loath to leave my side. Yes, and to
tell me sometimes that he loves me.
You have forgotten for so long to
tell me that, dear, but perhaps you
did not guess how woman's heart
hungers for affection. have often
wished you were quite poor, Hunter
Then you would not be popular, and
you would appreciate the true hearts
at homemore. We would work hard
for our little children, and have a
simple love life, finding our greatest
joy in each others company"
He put out his weak hand entreat-
ingly.
"Nor would sacrifice my hopes
of the future for so poor price as
your gold"
Then, as if realizing suddenly that