Arizona republican., 1892-12-11


peas She glanced up quickly and he
bowed gravely.
II am truly sorry | am so late" he
murlnured, guilty feeling that he was
not sorry a bit.
'Oh, my husband told me you would
not want breakfast till g. If YOU will
kindly sit down | will wait on you"
But tell me, do you really think
am a savage"
Inc pretty woman, unused to fiattery
9r difference, gazed steadily at him.
Nv ny should /? think it more Chris.
hanllke to breakfast at this hour than
az daylight. If God had intended peo-
pie to begin the day before sunrise he
would have made the sun rise earlier"
a simple remark child might have
made, but her evident innocence dis.
armed him. She was no woman to he
oegulled by pretty speeches, and his
pan TO be entertaining to this guileless
creature came to naught-for the time.
she waited quietly on him each morning,
speaking no word unless pressed.
"She is not fool, but she seems to
have no soul" was his mental calcula-
ton.
Ihe summer waned.
Why did Lucille's step lag, and why
had her pink face lost its bloom? He
was to go away? Yes, it had come to
thls-that this man with red brown hair
and the beautiful voice, brown ewes,
suaye manners and polished address
this man had Weakened the marble Ga
latea into life.
lie was no artist, but he had the soul
OF one. He was only young CITY
broker out for summer holiday. but
he had looked deeply into the soul of
this little family. He saw the husband
was harsh, cool, indifferent and unap-
preciatiye, and the wife stultifed by a
monotonous round of soul narrowing
household duties.
The day Of the parting came. He
held her hands close. "Goodby, Mrs.
HARDY. I'll be back next summer"
She hung her head like a shy school
girl, but it was not shyness; it was the
sickness of despair that bent her neck,
but she spoke no word. Careless man of
the world that he was, her detection
moved him.
IF ever can serve you-if you ever
need aid appeal to me-"
She wrenched her hands free.
at is hardly probable that Lucille
Hardy will need your aid. Go-and
goodby."
Proud to the last, and yet | could
have sworn she had grown to like me-"
All! thank God for that womans
pride that enables her to hide so much
and to set the world at defiance!
Lucille crept up to her room and lay
on the lounge for hours, but she uttered
no sigh and made no moan, only looked
out Of the window with wide open, tear
less eyes.
Surely he did not read my secret
surely he did not go away believing that
| love him? And yet do, oh, do! and
God knows how am to live all my days
without seeing him.
Her husband never dreamed of the
sleepless nights and fearless agony she
spent by his side while he slept the sleep
of the just. For months she went about
pale and thin, but her hours of thinking
were developing her. She was begin
ming to be less afraid of her husband
One day she said:
John, must have some books to
read"
"Why?" he asked laconically.
Because | wish them" she answered
firmly.
do you have time to read?" he asked
severely
81 shall make time"
He was astonished, but the books were
81 must read and study that may
become a companion for him." she
thought. But the summer came and
went and Mr. Bellairs came not.
At the end of two years she said,
John, shall get piano"
He was astonished again. Lucille, |
you are becoming extravagant. You
know very well am not rich man."
81 realize that quite well. Neverthe-
less | have helped you to accumulate
what riches you possess, and am just as
much entitled to piano for my amuse-
nent as you are to costly machinery
hat will lessen your labor"
Was this logician the gentle, submis-
i've and accomplishing wife of two
,ears ago?
But the piano came and Lucille re-
lewed her music, learned in her girl
lood.
The fourth summer John told her that
Mr.. Bellairs wished to return, for he
lad unconsciously to himself begun to
consult his wife in all things.
'In that case must have a servant. ]
10 not care to become a dining room
maid for city gentleman
SO Mr.. Bellairs, jaded and wearied,
anne to this peaceful home once more.