The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1892-07-29

| veins. linen ueI uedIb grew Stllli 40 III
the presence of some unknown, but stu
pendous evil. Something impelled her
to spring forward and read this mystery,
and something as strongly held her
back. As she stood, pale now in trem-
or, the object was kissed again, and then
returned to a drawer IN the secretary
from which it had been taken. In this
act, for an instant, the miniature of a
lady met the gaze of Mrs. Rowland!
| Locking the drawer her husband placed
the key in his pocket, and then resting
both arms on the writing leaf of the sec
rotary, buried his face in them and sat
| motionless.
Turning away as motionlessly as she
had approached, Mrs. Rowland fled back
TO her chamber in wild alright, and sat
down painting and in bewilderment. As
soon as thought began to move in a de-
terminate way, the first result was a
flood of indignation, a burning sense of
wrong; and it was only by an effort that
the outraged wife could hold herself
back from confronting her husband and
demanding to see the miniature. A
calmer, but not less painful state sue
ceeded, in which conscience whispered
of indifferece and neglect. Had she
turned, habitually, her most attractive,
or her least attractive, side to her hus-
band? Had she kept herself lovely in
his eyes, lovely in temper and lovely in
person? Her heart sunk; it grew darker
and darker around her; life seemed
crushing out.
"Who is it?" This question marked
change in the current of Mrs. Howland's
thoughts. Rapidly she passed in review
one lady friend to another, but without
an incident to fix suspicion. Then times
and seasons in which her husband was
absent from home were dwelt upon.
Once week regularly he went out in
the evening" occasionally twice. The
regular absence was for the purpose of
attending literary society, at least so
had he informed his wife. Now, for the
first time, doubt of his truth had crept
in; and this doubt was sweeping away
of all the sure foundations on which her
soul had rested
For a long time Mr.. Rowland remained
sitting at his secretary, with his face
buried in his arms. At length, rising
with a slow, weary motion. as of one ex-
hausUed by bodily or mental exertion, he
drew out his watch.
"Half past nine!" he calculated, in
surprise. And then he looked through
the door, over towards the chambers to
which his wife went with the children,
and stood listening for some sound. All
was silent. For a short time he moved
in an uneasy, irresolute way about the
room, and sitting down, tried to find in
terest in the pages of book. But, in a
little while, the volume closed in his
hands. Thought was too busy in anoth-
er direction to dwell even on favorite
author.
"Ten o'clock!" The bell was ringing
its clear notes from neighboring steep
pie. Mr.. Rowland started up, and turn
ing out the light, went over to the sleep
ing rooms. His wife was in bed. He
spoke to her, but she did not answer.
"Are you asleep?" No motion or re-
spouse of any kind. She lay with her
face nearly hidden under the bed clothes.
He looked at her in a strange, earnest
manner for some moments, and then
moving about noiselessly, prepared for
rest. The day had been one of much ac-
tivity. and Mr.. Rowland was weary
enough for sleep. Soon after his head
touched the pillow, he was in the land of
Dreams His deep breathing had scarce
ly given evidence of the fact, ere light
mnvement on the part of Mrs. Rowland
showed her to be awake.
Presently she drew the clothes from
her face, and raised herself cautiously.
The heavy breathing of her husband was
not interrupted She sat up in bed-he
still slept on she glided from beneath
the covering, and cropping in the dark
ness, found her husbands vest, from
which she took the key.
"Mother?' The slight noise made in
opening the chamber door, had disturbed
one of the children. Mrs. Rowland
, stood still, holding her breath. The call
was not repeated, and she went out
cropping her way along the passage with
a hand on the wall. Entering the room,
she closed the door behind her, and drew
the bolt, fastening herself in. Now all
her motions became hurried and ner-
vous. After lighting the gas, she went
to her husbands secretary, and with the
key in her possession, unlocked one of
, the private drawers. Her hand shook
solthat the key ratified on the escutcheon
before way was found into the wards.
! The first object that met her view, as
the drawer came open, was a morocco
miniature case which she seized upon
with a clutch as eager as that of bird
of prey, and bearing it to the gas light,
: unloosed- the clasp, and exposed the face
of her rival.
r 1t was young and lovely face, and
the eyes looked up into hers with ten
der and sweet expression. Away from
} the pure forehead, the hair of golden al-
burn fell smoothly back, and lay in curls
| upon her neck, that was whittier and
purer than alabaster. The lips were
full, soft and arching for a fight of ar
rows. Loves witchery was in the pic
tured countenancc.
Still, very still, did the wife sit and
I gaze upon her rival face-that face on
which scarcely and hour before, she had
seen her husbands kisses laid. Still,
very still, she sat, the tears creeping out
of her eyes, falling slowly over her
cheeks, and dropping upon the NINA
ture. Was she jealous of that rivals
No! Her heart was too glad for jealous.
ly, too full of joy, too wild for new born
happiness. The bride of ten years ago
was the rival of to-day; and the heart OF
her husband was true to his marriage
vows. 1t was no fault of his that he
could not love what had become unlove-
ly.
8 Not unlovely in the poorer significance
: of that word, as indicating changes
wrought by the wearing hand of time;
but unlovely through indulgence, impa.
thence and fretfulness, and in the neg
lect of self-discipline; unlOvely, also
. from carelessness of attire and personal
neatness.
q With the image of herself as she was
7 ten years before, and with the image OF
her husband fondly, passionately kiss
r | ING that image dwelling in her iTnaOina.