The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1894-06-20
BY MERE CHANCE.

With gesture of annoyance, he flung
his pen upon the table,
1T is useless! l shall never succeed
in describing this scene until have ac-
tually experienced it" he said to him.
self.
An ordinary, common or garden writ
er Of short stories would never have
taken the matter so to heart. But he,
Paulus Frank, the apostle of realism.
could never allow a story with descrip-
ton in 1t that was not true to life go
into the ruthless hands of the critics
The plot of his novel was certainly
simple enough. Two Jealous, spiteful
women had entered into a plot against
the noble, innocent heroine of the tale.
By every possible means they sought
to destroy her position in the eyes of
her husband and those of the world.
They finally agreed upon the plan of
sending an anonymous letter to her hus-
band, wherein they accused the wife of
faithlessness.
Paulus Frank cultivated close rela-
tons with man whom he had selected
as the model for this hero and often in
vited him for that reason to his house.
He had just reached the point where
he had to describe how this man, who
was naturally cold blooded, stands be-
fore his wife with deadly pallor on
his face and eonfronts her with the let
ter, threatening to shoot her unless she
makes frank confession of the whole
transaction.
And it was just this scene that Paulus
Frank felt himself powerless to describe
Would the wife defend herself with
vigor and spirit against such an attack,
or would she merely allow herself
oontemptuous little laugh when brought
face to face with the calumny?
Would her insulted and innocent
heart rise iii indignant protest against
such gross accusation, or would she
merely let the matter drift ON and make
no further explanation than quiet
denial?
What expression would her face wear?
Would she turn deadly pale or wear the
flush of shame? Would her hands pluck
nervously at her little lace handkerchief,
or would she stand motionless and erect
before him as if turned into stone under
his very eyes?
And the answer to all these questions
he did not find readily in his mind. In
spiration had left him in the lurch.
Twenty times and more he strove to put
on the paper the powerful scene which
was to be the climax of his story.
But it was in vain, for success did not
shine upon him, and he became more
and more certain that he would only be
able to portray the scene with justice
and power when he had actually been
through it himself and felt every phase
Of emotion recorded in lines of fire on
his heart. VF ffffts5z1 81
Once this peculiar thought had taken
possession of him he was unable to rest
until he saw it realized.
1t came to him one morning with
such force that he let his fist fall upon
the table with bang that almost shat
tered the glasses.
Have you gone crazy?" cried his
pretty young wife, raising her clear blue
eye to his face. whats the matter?
Ever since you began that wretched
novel Of yours you seem to be quite
different man. !" fsr f
And as he only stared at her and made
no answer she went on to reproach him
soundly for his conduct.
at cannot continue like this she
concluded. at must stop before long,"
and then buried herself again in her
work.
At the same moment the servant ap-
peared ON the scene with the announce
ment that the apothecary was at the
door.
A young man entered and greeted the
husband and wife with the familiarity
of an old acquaintance. Frank returned
his greeting. then looked vacantly be-
fore him and appeared to interest him.
self deeply in the pattern of the table
cloth.
The young man looked at him inquir-
lingly for few minutes, and then, APP
preaching the young wife, pressed her
hand and asked her in low voice what
was SO occupying her husbands mind
Zach, how do l know" she replied,
with gesture of impotence. II only
know that for whole week he has not
been fit to live with.
A deep drawn breath, shrug of her
shoulders, and Mrs Frank went with
her guest on the veranda to look out
into the street.
Meanwhile Frank had gone to his
study with pleasure written all over his
face. At length he seemed to have
found way out of his difficulty. He
wavered, however, undecided for lit
tie while. But why not? What harm
was there?
Besides it was not possible in any
other way. He would be obliged to
write plain, accusatory letter to his
wife, but then he would confess 1t ali
afterward and ask her forgiveness.
Thus there could be no further harm
attaching to his plan, and he would be
freed of all difficulty and be able to de-
scribe the scene with powerful realism
He could not understand why the idea
had not occurred to him sooner 1t was
SO simple and so natural, and there
seemed to be absolutely no other escape
from his difficulty.
Thank goodness the time was now
approaching when he would be able to
hear the bitter protest Of the innocent
and illuminated wife.
Forthwith he was anxious to execute