The Portland daily press., 1892-11-12

Something was wrong with it; it refused
to draw, clogged and went out. PHILIPPE
rose impatiently for another match, and
cropping on the mantel for the box his
eye ahghted on the transfer ticket.
,"Hallool" he exclaimed, "Jeannette's
been out today. The Bon Marche again,
of course, though she says she never
goes there Jeanette just then re-
turned, embroidery in hand, and PHILIPPE
said carelessly:
sYou have been out see, dearest, to.
day in all this bad weather"
Il? No, indeed! Such weather as this
would give cat cold to venture out in.
.You have staid at home, then, all
day long?'
'sOf course, and it isn't the first time
either!"
MOO" said PHILIPPE, mot the first
time-and to finish the subject, let US
read again"
But if PHILIPPE demanded silence OF
his wife in order to return to his book it
was not to enjoy more at his ease the
prose of the romancer, but simply to be
undisturbed while thinking over this
discovery of his wife's untruthfulness.
Something is hidden from me here
he told himself. 81 haven't been in an
omnibus today; Toinette never goes out
except on Sunday; this transfer ticket
didn't come here alone, and no one but
my wife could have brought it. She has
been out, and she wouldn't admit it to
me because she had been somewhere that
she didn't want me to know. Yes, it's
plain as pipe stem-Jeannette deceives
me; that much, at least, knoww
And resuming his book PHILIPPE
sought to take up the interrupted thread
OF his story. Pains thrown away. His
eyes were firmly fixed upon the printed
text, but his thoughts were flying else
where; he simply could not read; he
closed the covers brusquely and slammed
the book on the table.
Jeanette jumped with little scream.
Heavens she cried, shave you lost
your senses, PHILIPPE, to startle me like
that?'
ssTell me the truth, then, Jeanette
you did go out today, did you not2"
.sGo-out-to-day? Look here, Phil
lipe," returned Jeanette angrily, ''thia
Is little too much? Why, here for ten
minutes past I've been sending the needle
into my finger instead of my work, alb
sorbed by the thought that you had
taken a bus to-day and would not tell
mel"
ssYes, yes; ! know; that may be, but
you say this now only to turn me from
the matter in hand. | beg of you, jean
nette, to answer my question-you did
go out today, did you not?
"No, did not; and as it was | that
asked you question first demand to be
answered first" And both of them cried
out at one and the same time:
ssDid you, or did you not, take an ON
nibus today?
With this there was an omlnous pause
Nine. Marjeval, DESTROYS of Kidding her
self of an unnecessary witness to con-
jugal discussions, and whom the serv-
ants coming and going in the salle-
a-manger greatly annoyed, turned sharp
ly and touched the bell.
.sToinette," said she, 'tput the wood
and coal in the corner and then you are
free to go to see your sister,"
The door had scarcely closed upon her
when PHILIPPE, who had restrained his
rage only by drumming upon the table.
burst out furiously:
ssThere is no use denying it longer,
Jeanette; you've told me a story, and
told it to me because you were afraid to
tell me the truth! The fact is, and you
know it well, all these comings and go
ings to the shops-the Louvre, Bon
Marche, etc.-are pretexts pure and sim
pie, just as the bath-every three days a
BATH see it all now--is pretext like
all the rest! Fool that I've been to have
suspected nothingi To have seen how
strange these bathing excuses were! 1t
is always so when one has conidencew
'Eh? What's that you are saying?"
cried Nine. Marjeval, whom very nat
urally, we must admit, this suspicion
deeply wounded. eff either of us has
aught with which to reproach ones self,
that one is not II These constant de-
lays, these fiimsy excuses metimes
one thing, sometimes another friend
at the cafe, overwork at the ofice-in
plain words are tales sewed with white
thread! 1t is not the first time either
that I've thought the same. Nine. Adel-
berg, your sous-chef's wife,
'sThere / knew it! knew that name
would come up before you were done.
Now look you, Jeanette, and mind
what l say. If ever you speak that
name to me again"
Threats, monsieur, threats to me!
Well, this is perfect! I'll go, sir-go at
once back to my mother, poor soul!
She'll not be surprised"--
$50; go by all means, and if you stay
till come for you, you'll stay a long
while"
And one word brought on another in
this bitter sweet dialogue-which, from
the expressive pantomime that accom-
panied it, was rapidly approaching u
crisis-when suddenly a turbulent stir
on the staircase was heard, the passage
door flew back, and Toinette, red as an
overripe tomato, her eyes bloodshot, her
dress disordered, and followed by two