Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1895-03-14

FORGOTTEN.

FORGOTTEN.
How Paul Wsguslin's Great eoe.
row Was Drowned
Theirs was . lovs match Il ever .
marriage wasl The engagement had
lasted more than Eve years, and had
been entered Into when matrimony
looked n unsttsinable : prospect - .
house In Lancaster Gate, . carriage
and pair, and . retinus Of ssrvsutA
Not that they ever did reside In Ian
caster Gate. II was . humble little
wedding enough when the eveutful
day did dawn, and they took up their
abode in = tiny house In Highgate,
where, u : matter Of fact, they were
ashsppy - the day 10 long.
The day was long-the phrase Il not
. oommonplscs-for the young hus-
band went to his clerks stool In tho
city directly after breakfast, and II
was not TIL seven O'Clock In the even
Ing that Ethel saw him again. Both
declared that the hours Of their sspArAr
ton appeared interminAble.
But they had their hopes, II ahould
be understood. Paul wAs not made 10 b
. clerk oil his life-a young man named
Paul could not bel There VA some
thing homogeneous about paul" tot
ting up columns In . ledger and aging
"sir" to sn employer-"psul" suggests
Art or literature, I calling ip Bohemia,
and Paul Weguslin intended 10 b .
playwright
He had . couple Of dramas which
Ethel vowed were beautiful declined
by every manager In London already,
and undeterred by the nonsuccess OF
these he was meditating third. In
the evening, after supper, when Ethel
ut beside the FIRE working, he would
Light his pipe and proceed TO wssve,
for their encouragement, fancy pictures
Of the night when be should be called
before the curtain BY frantic cries OF
Author, Author" and drive home
with his little wife's hand In his-a
made man. Ethel would nod her head
spprovingly, and II such conversations
did not do much to advance his ambi-
lions, they were certainly amusing.
Some months before their child was
to be born, however, scenario wa
definitely laid down. They had gone
to work in o professional manner, these
two young people, and chosen the
theater they would favor, and then
Paul had mapped out D plot to suit the
company.
"That is what Is always done, dear
est" he declared; 1--WE gathered as
much as that from the papers. YoN
see, with the other two plays I made
the mistake Of writing to please my.
self instead Of studying the require
ments Of a particular management
Now we'll go In and win"
A clerks life Is not conducive to the
pursuit Of literature, and Paul Vogue.
lin frequently felt disinclined to 90
from one desk to another, but he perse.
vered in his self-appointed task nobly,
When Ethel had gone to bed he would
sit up writing until he was compelled
10 10y down the pen from sheer ex-
haustion. And after fair start WA
made, too, his interest In the thing
grew. His characters appeared TO gain
life--to be more real-and Ethel
spurred him on by her appreciation
and prophecies Of success.
She did not complain that her even.
lngs were now IS lonely % her days.
they were entirely one, she and her
husband. She felt that the play was
as much hers as his, and she would
read II and criticise, and suggest. every
bit as enthralled In its development as
be was
1t was finished at last, and they
posted 1t together with q little note
begging for Its consideration; andevery
evening for the next few weeks listened
with tense nerves each time the post
mans knock sounded In the street.
No communication about II came,
however, and then Paul was given Q
son, and for awhile even the thought
Of his play was banished from his mind
BY reason Of Ethel's illness.
She was very Ill, indeed, poor girl,
but 1t was not often absent from her
recollection-thc drama from which
they hoped so much-and she talked Of
It in her delirium, and repeated lines
from 1t until Paul thought bis heart
would break with pain and terror.
In the terrible time that followed he
had but one small consolation; she was
conscious before she died. lie will al'
ways be able to recall every incident Of
their "Good-by," down to the smallest
details. He sat on the edge Of the bed,
holding her hands, and praying dumb
futile prayers while he endeavored 70
reassure her and choke down his sobs
The lamp on the mantel-piece had gone
out, and the flame Of the candles on
the toilet table was the only light In
the room. Her eyes were dreadfully
big, and the wilderness Of her face
shocked him. Her voice quiversd pa-
thetically, and vaguely he wished IN
moments that she would not speak, II
was her voice, the pathos Of the poor
weak voice, that endangered his self-
control, and twisted his throat In
knots.
II shall never see the play, Paul"
she murmured. II did want to zee the
play 80, Don't cry Poor boy, You
mustn't cryl Darling-darlingr'
Somebody said something to him
the doctor, or the nurse he did not