Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1895-09-22
A FATAL MISTAKE.

Tn view OF the fact that there are but
two living characters in this brief mar
rative. IL will not be necessary to use
/ names. One other character-a dead
/ persOn-enters into the recital, and
/ she, too, may be without a name.
Ii was nearly two years after this
woman death that He and She the
/ living principals of this tale We're mar
ried. The dead woman had been his
wife and She had known her for years
indeed. the two women had been
/ schO0lmates together, and after the
first wifes death She was the first TO
so to him with a consolation that
+ brought surcease in that moment of
heart-torn grief, when the future
seemed TO hold nothing for him. For
a g0od many weeks the TWO were seen
4 together occasionally. She felt that the
death of her most intimate friend
made it duty 10 show small attentions
10 The bereft husband, and once in a
while the little deserted home was
I frightened by a bunch of flowers that
came fresh from her hands and her
dainty garden back Of the old fashion
ed house, just q few rods down that
lane
All at once just at a moment when
his friends were wondering that hus-
bands grief could be so deep and last
ing he began TO so down the country
way between the two houses and spend
an hour on the broad back porch that
. faced the garden of Oid-fashiOned roses
+ that were cared tor through the cool
of the morning and evening by the
quiet folk who had been so much TO
him in his time of grief. There was
comfort here and remembrance, and
+ sometimes remembrance is not so BIT
Ter when there is a faint CLEAN OF hope
with il.
That was what He thought as he
grew fond OF leaning back in the easy
split bottom chair OF that simple home
I one evening after another, until, az
length. "the folks began TO so into the
/ house earlier than they did az first,
leaving him out there alone with her.
/ Neither spoke of the dead woman for a
good many weeks. Then, one night
after they had come back from long
stroll when He had said one or two
I things that She seemed surprised to
hear. She said, just before the part
ing
"If YOU don't mind-to-morrow-w
you and will go up thereto the
cemetery. You know. and put some
+ flowers On-On her grave
He gave q little start, bowed his
head and said nothing. She went on:
"It has been q year-a year to-mor-
row, and I think
He put out his hand and turned his
/ head away. She stopped, and, after an
awkward hesitation, He said, in a bro
ken away
Yes. L had forgotten. We will 90 to-
morrow
That night. sitting with the dead wo-
mans picture in front of him, he
thought it all over He thought of the
thousand qualities of heart and mind
that had made the heart of his youth
the wife of his infancy-his very life
and soul He closed his eyes and felt
her presence and heard her speech,
and. putting out his hand. hers seemed
TO rest within his own broad, willing
palm. For q long time-hours, per
haps-he sat there. and then. when he
got up from his chair. he saw, by a
strange chance, a picture Of the other
woman i'm another part of the room. As
he looked the dead face seemed TO cry
out TO him. BY degrees. he took cOur-
age. and. picking up the two photo
graphs. he laid them side by side. Only
Tor d moment he looked. Then. with an
imprecation, he grasped the portrait OF
the living woman and tore II into BITS
that were flung into the black, unused
fireplace.
she shall not 90 with me to-mor-
rowp he exclaimed, and the empty
room echoed the words back to him so
strangely that be started. 1T is my
grief-not hers-my remembrance
not hersw he cried, and again the walls
repeated his words.
But the morning rarely keeps the
/ pledges of the night. When he arose,
after a brief, but refreshing sleep, the
sun filled the room. The first thing
that caught his eyes was the photo
graph of the dead woman, and then he
remembered. He looked over into the
fireplace and saw the bits OF paper that
We're once her picture.
II was foolish" he said, slowly
slowly. and then. before dressing, he
went over and picked up all of the bits.
and. sitting down. he did not move un-
iii they were together again-pasted
on sheet of cardboard. After the mu-
cilage was dry, he took the Joined pho
tograph and put it i'm the pocket Of one
of his coats-neXt TO his heart
Tt was late that afternoon when he
and she came back from the little
country cemetery. walking slowly and
I'm silence. They had found the grave
of the wife and friend already more
/ beautiful than artifce could make It,
for nature had not been neglectful. and
if seemed that over this mound, of all
others. her gifts We're scattered with
lavish hand. SO the little punches OF
rlucked roses were put about the head
stone. and these two went hOme-to
her home
Won't YOU come in?' she said gen
tlv. as they reached the front of the
/ house. The man stood in silence. The
/ empty basket dropped 10 his feet and
ne looked away from the woman who
stood I'm front of him. Then, moved by
impulse. he turned and grasped her
hands i'm his and held them, in spite OF
struggle that followed a slight
noise from within the house.
IL feel easier now he said, and
want YOU 10 forgive me. Some day
ann coming here-six months from
now. perhaps. and ask YOU TO be my
wife-to take her place in my lonely
heart. May ~
She had been expecting such a cues
zion but not in couple with such q
confession She was dazed by it all
and the only thing she could do was
TO follow him TO the door, and as he