Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1896-08-27

sylvia!
Now, don't roar at me, James
Where is your duty to me?" he de-
manded
Where yours is to me, doubtless
will hear your And Sylvia took a
book from her work table and
opened it.
Men have sometimes murdered their
wives for less
Don't James! Melodrama does lot
suit you-you are too respectable"
There was a brief pause.
See if my fire is bright" he said
presently, trying to gather a shred of
authority
Ring and ask Sarah. l am tired"
James was completely nonplussed.
This was a new Sylvia, and he did
not admire her. What did she mean?
Il know I have been weak about
her." he said, as he withdrew with
what dignity he could, but | was not
prepared for this
Meanwhile Sylvia, left by the break
fast room fire, was trembling at her
own temerity. Like James, she did not
recognize herself in this woman who
spoke so glibly on her own behalf.
Many a time in her married life had
such thoughts and such words trembled
on her lips, and had been stayed by
sheer dread of the consequences. Now,
somehow, probably because her physi-
cal health was better, she felt COM
PEELED to assert herself. A sudden
longing for the youth that had been 50
brief, and for the freedom that she had
had, filled her heart. 1t was as though
the smoky blackbirds, piping to each
other among the short lived buds of the
suburban gardens, were so many voices
calling her to be young again. She
felt, too, that her interview with her
husband had played on the borders of
tragedy, and now she half smiled as
the commonplace pushed the tragic
aside. What could she wear at that
party?
Evening gowns had not come into
her domestic economy. The few pretty
things she had had on her marriage
had devOlyed on the children. She
turned over in her mind the contents of
a shabby old purse, where lay her slen-
der savings, and felt she might allow
herself f2 for dress on the great occa-
sion. She had grown handy with her
needle, and she knew a little dress
maker who would help her. This
grave question settled, Sylvia moved
about the room, tidying and arranging
things. Presently she stood in front of
the faded, battered cottage piano. She
looked from it to the music cabinet, full
of dusty, old fashioned music. With
listlesS fingers she turned over the yell
low pages and read her own name,
Sylvia Moore in a half childish hand.
here and there This she played at
the breaking up party at Christmas,
and that at midsummer There was
"Sweethearts. She remembered a fav-
Orite schOOlfellOw giving it to her on
her sixteenth birthday; and she remem-
bered, too, how in the days of her en-
gagement she had sung it softly to ner-
self, and thought tenderly of James
Lee.
Could she sing it now? With a timid
hand she opened the little piano and
set the music before her. Would her
voice come? Since her marriage ii had
only crooned lullabies. Trembling she
tried the symphony. How stiff her
fingers were! How did it go? When
she began to sing her voice frightened
her-it was so hOarse and strange. She
dropped her face in her hands, and the
next moment tears would have gilt
tered on the yellow keys. She straight
ened herself up when the door opened
Sylvia, understand once and for all,
the house must be kept perfectly quiet
when | am in it. At night, at least,
there can be no necessity to indulge in
these hideous noises.
Il am sorry if I disturb you James;
but | don't see how you can reasonably
object to my keeping up my music,
when you have so often told Mrs
Brownlow that married women owe
duty to society, and should keep their
accomplishments from growing rusty
and she turned to the piano.
Give me a flower, dear love- he
said"
"Sylvia!'
He spake with a fearful sigh"
"Sylvia do you hear me?"
THAT day he was going across the
sea"
James came striding to her side.
There must be no more of this!'
And this was his last goodbye
James seized Ne music L will not
suffer this he said furiously.
II am afraid Mrs. Brownlow has 100
high an opinion Of you, James. She
san today what she liked about you
was your equable temper" said Sylvia
provOkingly.
James swallowed audibly six times
L shall lock the piano!' he said be-
ginning to buster.
Not tonight, anyhow, as the key has
been lost since Freddy swallowed it
ten years ago"
A word of one syllable, the banging
of the door, was her husbands reply.
Il don't think Mrs. BrOwnlow would
think that dignifed," said Sylvia.
CHAPTER II.
Early on Monday afternoon Sylvia
shut herself up to make her grand
toilet She and the little dressmaker
had poDfTiVed unite a present a bile gar