The Cape Girardeau Democrat. (Cape Girardeau, Mo.) 1876-1909, 1894-03-24

star. The shoulders and arms WORE
quite bare but for the diamond neck.
lace that clasped the rounded throat
The proudly poised head, with dark,
satiny braids. and the face, with It's soft
black eyes, were very beautiful, they told
me; but ] saw the disconnected droop
of the scarlet lips, and the reckless,
disappointed glance from the eyes; and
| wished, as l stood there, that 1 might
change places with any woman who had
lived a good, true and useful life. /
wa SO tired of this endless round of
pleasure for pleasures sake; but who
would have believed me IL / had told
them? In the eyes of the world l was
n of tile favored few.
The ball was o brilliant affair; all
the highest beauty and wealth of the
city were there. Jewels worth a kings
ransom, gowns from Worth and Felix
that had cost a small fortune, light,
music, gayety everywhere, and still l
was wretched.
1t was growing late, and l stood for a
moment in the conservatory, waiting
for my escort to bring an ice, while
two gentlemen on the other side Of the
palms were talking in low TONES.
well, it's all up with Morton. He's
lost every dollar!"
"ies, so they say. l pity him; u fine
fellow, young, too; and it will go hard
with him."
And that wife of his is nothing but
a butterfly. tell you a man has my
sympathies, who goes down like that.
with such a wife. She will be O him
drance, a burden, rather than a help
meet"
''She is beautiful, but a soulless doll.
as anyone can see"
The ''soulless doll" stood lis il turned
to stone, while all my utter selfshuess
rushed over me. My husband. whom l
had promised to love and honor, had
been struggling with this trouble alone,
and | had seen nothing of it. What
was | but 4 butterfly? All, It's well
sometimes to "see ourselves as others
see us" Invent blindly up to the dress
ing room without waiting to sec my
hostess, and in n few moments was roll
ing toward my home.
In the library a dim light was burn
ing. Robert was at home then Go
ing softly upstairs | found my maid
DOING before the fire. She sprang up
as | came in. 20, you are i'll, madam"
mo. only tired" and soon / was
clothed in my dressing-gown, and went
down to the library.
There Sn1tn1 nv tho t-h1a biS hao1
resting on his arms, was my husband.
to him, l laid my hand on the
bowed head
Robert, You are in trouble; let me
help yon."
lie sprang up. his face haggard and
Margaret, have you heard? l am
ruined-ruined."
YES, | know; but we have each
He did not seem to understand.
1T is not for myself | care. When |
knew all was gone there was a
sense of relief. The strain had been
SO great; the sleepless nights, the
struggle, had worn me ont.
nut Allti I'm lht llOuS III VI you anu
the children. All is gone; do you I'M /
lerstand, Margaret, your money, too?
There is nothing but your jewels and
the little house your grandmother left
you"
Robert" ! said, putting my arms
him, al know, but ! have you:
have been 4 wicked, selfish woman;
if God will forgive me | will be a
wife and mother now"
In a moment l was clasped in his
irms, happier than / had been in
ears.
Lent passed very differently than l
lad expected. Every moment was
filed to overlooking, but | sang gayly
,ver my work, and Robert and | felt
Is if we were living our honeymoon
,ver again.
of course there We're many annoy
Inces, direct cuts from people who had
been glad TO lie entertained by us in
'ur prosperity. and, harder still to
car, patronage from persons who had
'ren only acquaintanccs, not friends.
let there was the happiness of finding
sc had made real friends; thoughtful