Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1896-01-02
smile as he had never dreamt of on her

smile as he had never dreamt of on her
face.
He did not know what he said, perhaps
he only made some inarticulate cry, but
he sank into chair, and hid his face in
his hands from that look.
Neither of them spoke. 1t seemed to
him that minutes were merging into
eternity. The ticking of the clock on
the mantelpiece was like the strokes of
q hammer on his brain. His heart
seemed shrinking under the touch of re-
hot iron.
Lillian vile! Oh. it was Incredible; inn
possible! some hidecus dream.
He raised his head again to look at
her. Surely a lifetime had passed since
that smile, and yet the clock had only
marked three minutes
Il am glad you Know" said his wife
Il was SO tired of pretending to be
good" and she stretched her arms as
wonder you have never guessed it be-
fore"
Guessed it! II reverenced you too
much to insult you by a thought
You mean virtue was my role, and it
was for you to play sinner Oh, you
were too egotistical you wanted always
to play Lead
''Oh, what did it matter how much
sinned? was never good-but YOU.
You have been like a saint in heaven to
me-"
mo woman is ever a saint, and re-
member l have been your wife five years.
l was good once, but your love has been
Il liberal education for me-
Her whole bearing seemed altered. The
sweet sadness of the mouth had changed
to mockery, her voice rang clear and
hard. Every word struck home to his
soul, as nothing had ever done in the
course of his gay, successful life.
''Then | have damned you and my
self" he said hoarsely.
Don't talk so primitively. We have
been educated out of all that now. she
answered. There are hundreds of hus-
bands and wives in our own case"
"But this man-Dacre''-he brought
out the words as if they burnt his lips
you, you can't love him."
She shrugged her shoulders carelessly.
''Love? What does it mean? He was
sufficiently amusing. Did you love Lady
Farcourt-Miss Bellair and--but why ex-
tend the list?''
81? That is quite another thing. A
man. but he stopped short under the
scorn of her eyes.
what will you do? You can't divorce
with such a record as yours" she went
on. Il don't see. myself, why this
should make any difference to us. We
know the truth about each other now,
and can be mutually complaisant."
The yileness of such words on her lips
was unbearable to him. He sprang up
and caught her by both arms, studying
every line of her face with savage in
tensity.
Are you going to kill me?' she said,
shrinking little. Il did not take your
confessions so tragically."
it, he muttered. ''You who We're worlds
above me to have sunk SO much beneath
me!'
Il think we are on an equal footing,
now,' she retorted. "Our sin is of the
same quality
Bqt know snd myself for the 6eD flae
realize what it is for you?'
She shook her head slightly. A sud-
den hatred of him had sprung up in her;
and instinctively she knew that nothing
she could do or say would wiring his
heart as did her callous bearing.
He looked at her for an instant with
despairing eyes and then caught her to
him as if he would kiss her, but recoiled,
and loosing her, dashed roughly from
the room.
The next days evening papers sold I'M
commonly we'll among the smart sec
ton of society, for their contents bills
bore the headlines: tragic and Mys-
FERROUS Suicide OF a Well-knOWn Society
Man," and they set forth how Charles
Stanhope had been found with a bullet
through his brain in room he had taken
at Il west end hotel. 1t was 4 nine days
wonder to his friends, and there were
several theories to account for it. Some
spoke Of insanity, brought on by drink;
others of losses on the turf, but most.
in view of his antecedents, whispered of
some disgraceful intrigue with woman,
and even limited that it might have been
a case of murder after all.
ers, one of the dead mans chief pals
good old Charlie wasn't the fellow to
go in for tragedy, and he was jolly
sight too fond of the good things of this
world to go out of it of his own Accord
St. Pauls.