The Wichita daily eagle., 1893-12-06
The dita ay dedmesaay gHoruiu9 eeember s. 1888

Edith nearly broke her heart in dry
eyed agony.
Paul was more easily consoled He
wrote a requiem upon the baby's
death. which greatly increased his
fame. The subject. moreover. sug-
gested to him cantata on the "Judg-
ment of Solomon" upon which he at
once set to work with an artists
fervor, while poor Edith, her lovely
face and figure wasted by grief. betook
herself every day to that little green
grave among the Surrey hills, beside
which she would sit for hours, moisten-
Ing the unresponsive earth with her
tears
AT length. one day as Paul sat in his
study surrounded by musical instru-i
ments and musical books OF reference,
with the manuscript of his precious
cantata, now within few lines of
completion, beside him, his wife tapped
at the door.
Paul did not want to be bothered BY
any body at that moment He had just
finished most admirable air, in
which the feelings of mother over a
lost babe were suggested with marvel
Gus delicacy and truth. Nevertheless,
he laid down his pen in q resigned
manner on his wife's entrance.
She had come to tell him that she
was going away from him, for long
time, perhaps.
II don't think you quite know. Paul."
she said, with a painful effort to be
calm which made her voice sound cold
and hard, "how difficult it is for me to
go on living here as nothing in your
life. am only twenty-one, you know,
just a selfish young woman, l suppose.
! didn't quite know what marrying =
musician meant I think you will do
your work quite as well and even bet
ter without me. Martha will do the
housekeeping and spare you all the
trouble. 1t would have been different
if baby had lived and"
She stopped abruptly.
Her face looked gray and old
Paul was greatly distressed Itvrwas
evident to him that she. did not love
him; while as for him, he had scarcely
even looked at another woman. Still,
he wished she had not interrupted him
just when he was in the vein of compo-
sition. .-a
He was very kind and gentle in his
manner. But ever and anon, whilst
spea king to her, his eyes went back to
his manuscript upon the table, and at
sight of this. Edith's long pensup re-
sentiment and jealousy broke out.
S.Vor <hip1y ~ l~irc IN <ba xyorld
but your work." she sobbed. "What
do such men as you want with wife or
child? just a housekeeper to see that
your meals are cooked and your clothes
mended, and that you are not troubled
in any way. Love and affection are
nothing to you, less than nothingp'
He gazed at her with gentle, won
dering resignation, which irritated her
still more. The very next day she
would leave him, so she said, in order.
to travel about and try to forget her,
loneliness and grief. Then she left the
room, and Paul, after ranning his fn-i
gers several times through Ais long
hair, decided with sigh that he must |
put aside his work for the day and con-
suit Miss Brandon concerning her.
niece's extraordinary behavior.
He took the next train to London in |
order to do this, but only arrived at the
Bayswater home to find that Miss |
Brandon had left for Italy.
Tired, displrited. and annoyed at hav-
ing wasted day away from his be-
loved ''score." Paul journeyed home.
arriving at the station nearest to his |
cottage at eight o'clock in the evening.
A short cut through the woods
would bring him to his own door in
twenty minutes, and as he strobe over
the first fallen leaves of September,
with his hands clasped behind him and
his head full of unfinished melodies,
he noticed a curious, red, Pickering
light in the sky ahead of him. through
the interlaced branches of the elms and
chestnuts-
Too soon he was to know the cause
Of this. Sounds of hurrying feet, of
shouts and cries, mingled with the
,rackle of burning wood and the fall
Of masonry. appraised him of the scene
If riot and r,1in awaiting him where o