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

kissed him and clung to him loving
ly; strange proceeding when she
had just rung his heart by her dec
laration that she would not live out
her days widow.
He pushed her away in q sudden
gust of Jealous anger.
"You have never loved me, Eli
norr'
II loved you always-love you
still. " she sobbed. But, Hrnter-it
--is-just the other wayl You have
never loved mew
He was speechless with surprise
at this strange charge. Never
loved herw Why, then, had he
made her his wife and the mother
Of his beautiful children2
Elinor went on speaking low, but
clearly, like one under the stress of
some ove11nastering emotion.
God knows I do not wish to pain
you. Hunter, but yet l would like to
justify myself. They say that dying
eyes see clearly, because the dying
are already beyond the reach of
earthly prejudice and passion. So,
dsar. viii you let me speak out
plainly now what has been in my
heart for years2"
$50 on" he answered, in feeble
wonder at the five and passion of her
lovely, tear stained face.
II must tell you some of my in
most thoughts, and perhaps you will
laugh at them," breathed the plain
tive voice. But, Hunter, l believe
that God creates men and women as
inmates for each other, but they
.i,ey do not always find each other,
I'd then, blindly, they wed as
chance or fancy dictates, and dis
uDion and lack of harmony result.
This has been our fate, my poor hus-
band. We were not intended for
each other, and each has failed to
realize the others ideal"
Speak of yourself, he answered,
with unnecessary curtness; II never
had an ideal"
"Oh, yes, you did, dear, though
perhaps you did not realize it.
Every one has an unconscious ideal,
I think. You had yours, Hunter,
but you did not find it in me, she
answered, in that sweet, plaintive
voice that always touched an echo
ing chord in the hearers heart.
when the honeymoon glamour was
OF you wearied of me. Donot think
did not see it, dear, even though
my eyes were full of tears when l
found how far you fell short of my
ideal"
what was your ideal9" he asked
sneeringly.
Although he was dying, he could
still sneer at a woman's romantic
fancies, derived, he thought, from
novels.
SAo sighed YEARLY, and answered.:
ut was very simple. just q loving,
companion. Ihave some
where read that men and women are
created the perfect complement of
each other, fulfilling in their welded
life the qualities separately lacking
in each. | expected that my hus-
band and 7 would be much together,
80 contented in our mutual love, so
interested in the same things, so ten
derly united, that we could never
feel quite happy apart. That was my
fancy, and / know I was not wrong,
for have seen few welded lovers
like that, and they were happy
happy as l had hoped to be, as l
might have been, only-I married
the wrong mani"
"Ilinorm he cried, in angry re-
monstrance, but she had the courage
of her convictions. She would not
pause.
ut is Gods truth y she said. "We
are not soulmates, or we should have
found more happiness together,
dear. I call you dear, for love you,
Hunter, in spite of the mistake OF
our marriage"
"It was no mistake" he muttered,
with angry resentment.
"You are good to say so, but you
fatter me-" Her exquisite lips curled
in spite Of the dew on her long
lashes. But, Hunter, l have not
been blind, and Ihave seen how little
you cared for my companionship,
how eagerly you sought pretexts for
leaving my side and joining your
male companions, III whose company
you took such keen delight. Busi-
ness, you always said, when | com
planned of loneliness, and yet knew
that it was only subterfuge, for
you were well to do, and lived a
life of elegant leisure.
MY society was irksome to you,
and you released yourself from it all
that you could. Why, | wondered,
for other men always seemed to find
my company agreeable, and | could
have played the role of the married
flirt Il had wished. Dut l did not