The Press., 1892-09-15
MY FRIENDS STORY.

'sIt's very strange story" he said, ga very strange story-one have dared tell to very few persons, and yet if you insist will give it you"
 I had insisted and besought by turns for half an hour and this concession of his was the outcome of series of stra- tegic movements on my part that would have done honor to Parisian detective
 Well, then,'' l said, II insist. Go on with your story, and if any pledge of secrecy is in order, just say so and I'll hold up my hands,"
 .sI don't enjoin secrecy he answered slowly. 1.-The story is not one you would care to repeat.
 'sOh, very we'll, very we'll, bantered, with mighty affectation of fippancy did not feel. II can close my mouth as tight as any one you know. But to the story. Your wife, you said, died year ago%
 q said nothing of the kind," he re- piled emphatically. 'I told you lost her year ago." Then he rose and, crossing the room, emptied the ashes from his pipe into the fireplace and helped himself to another round of tobacco. As he stood for a moment sil- houetted against the faring coals in the grate, silent, calm, serene, it burst upon me suddenly that the silence and seren- ity which in him had long regarded as most offensive and objectionable were nothing other than the dignity of sor- row, and felt ashamed of myself; not the first time, perhaps, that have had the same feeling, but never mind that now. At last, having lighted the new pipeful, he turned and said simply:
 "You insist?"
 By this time realized that 1 was in for it whatever it might be, and an- swered promptly, "Yes."
 And then, still leaning on the chimney piece, he began in hesitating way:
 'As you already know, Gladys and l were married a trife over thirteen months ago. loved her madly, and she, poor girl, was all a wife should be or could be. We were very happy to- gether; no clouds ever darkened the clear heaven of our mutual love, nor troubles for a moment disturbed our peace and happiness. Previous to de- parting on our wedding trip I had leased suite of rooms in large up- town fiat-you know the place-and when we returned after short tour those rooms became our home and our paradise. So things ran on for nearly two months, and then-then came the end-the end"
 Here he paused, and turning away from me looked into the hissing, splut- tering little fire a moment. Somehow did not feel like breaking the silence-l realized that he was not thinking of me then, and to speak would have been obtrusion if not sacrilege. At length, raising his head, he turned to me with apparent effort and as he did so could see there were tears in his eyes.
 "One evening"" he went on, after had begged him be seated and he had taken the big cushioned chair by the hearth, ''one evening last February my wife and l spent with her mother and returned at late hour to our apart ments. The night was bad one, and Gladys, poor little girl, was weary and exhausted when we reached home. Her bright eyes had a dull, leaden look, she was pale, complained of headache and said strange things as if her mind were wandering for the moment, and recom- mended that she retire at once and sleep off the ill effects of her overexertion. She was very loath to take my advice for some reason or other, and when l had lighted my pipe and drawn my arm chair up to the table she came and knelt beside me and took my hand in hers.
 "'John, said she-ah, how well re- member her words, spoken in her piquant, half reproachful way-'John, you don't mean to send me away from you, do your
 "'Yes, my dear,' replied, rather pet ulantly. For your own sake do. You need sleep and rest am perfectly safe here with my paper
 ''She rose and turned away, but had taken only few steps when she re- turned and took my hand again.
 "'You want me to leave you, JohnY
 "'Yes, yes. my dear; go to sleep and get a nights rest; it will do you moro good than anything else under the sun.