The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1897-09-23

! must not eat with my knife, or wipe
my fingers on my dress. Why didn't
he tell me-. before we were married?
Why didn't. he go away and le9ye met
] would have killed myself! had
rather kill myself than know he il
ashamed of mel" 81 s..
All this was poured out with such
rapid ptterance could not interrupt
her by one word, and might as wen
have tried to catch a butterfly AZ TO
touch her as she paced up and down.
"And now I set his teeth on edge! Il
was not listening. heard him al I
came in. Inever bought things before.
They told me at the stores what to buy.
and all they showed me were prettyl
Why did he not come, too, and tell me?
hate him! OIL love him! love
him, and he is ashamed of mel"
She was gleeful as child when Basil
praised her dress at tea time, having, at
my suggestion, worn soft, white null:
with scarlet flashing in her jetty braids
at her throat and belt. She pouted .
little, because L would not allow but
one bright color, but was obedient.
But after that, watching them both,
knew there could be no happiness in
the hasty marriage. The glamour was
gone from Basil's eyes, and he was
ashamed of his wife. His love cooled,
and his perfect gentleness and tender
care never deceived her for one mo-
ment
think if he had beaten her and then
caressed her she would have borne it
better than she bore his unvarying
kindness, after his love was gone.
"He does not love me! He has wearied
of my beauty, ard 1 had nothing else to
love!"
That was ever the refrain of her pite-
ouH plants, and Basil vainly tried to
revive the dead love in his heart.
She has but mel" he said to me once.
IF made mistake it was no fault Of
hers, poor darling. She shall never
know l have one regret!"
And he might as well have tried to
hide bonfire under napkin. By the
intuition of love, Nell knew the change.
She had been year married, wearing
herself out with her own vehemence,
when her baby came to her. I hoped
motherhood would soften her, would
tame her, for she was wild and beauti-
full as leopard.
With the same fierce, unreasoning
passion that gave her life every i'm
pulse, she loved her boy, sickly, feeble
child, that she would almost smother
with kisses and caress so violently
that he would whimper, as if being
hurt.
Every day she talked about the boys
future, the grand things to be done for
him, the education he was to have, that
Basil might never be ashamed of him
as he is of me-" Her whole hope lay in
the child's life, and we knew the feeble
spark would never live to be . bright
light.
AS the child dropped the mother
faded. She would be well soon, soon,
she told me every day, and every day
the little fellow lay more lightly upon
my arms; the little face grew more
pinched and wan.
One morning she drew me down upon
the pillow her head had never left since
her boy was born, and whispered:
Basil kissed me with his heart this
morning. He loved me in that kiss. All,
if could die now before he ceases to
love me!''
She sobbed, not with the old passion,
she was too weak for that, but feebly,
as if from breaking heart. -
"You do not wish to die and leave
your boy?" said.
II would not leave him! He would go
with mel" she said, with quiet convic-
ton.
And we knew it would be So There
was nothing to build health upon, the