The evening tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 189?-190?, 1897-07-20
A COMMON MAN.


Honest fsos''-that IL 10 ssy, be IVES ex- |
oes1ingiy plain ~ well a. psinfuiiy Or. |
6insry. Yet though bs sst among sii ohs |
dainty knickknacks Of the b0udoir beIong- |
ing " tho woman for whom hs impstisnt- |
y waited, no feeling OF uervousssss touch
ID him.
The Juno sunshine struggled fsrceiy in |
through tho drawn curtains, q drowsy
lapguor was In the air, and John Hcnry
williamson sat idly counting ths number
Of roses that were clustered In the bowl
nearest him.
The door opened gently snd the woman
be loved came slowly forward, and he
knew from tho little pale face she raised
end the nervous fingers playing rsstlessly
with tho lace that covered her white dress
that she knew his errapd- understood at
last what society had been laughing at for
some wseks-the very evident passion OF
John Henry williamson, the millionaire,
for hor lovely self.
the ~ common s5 fi}issnnn broke the silence.
~ know who and what am" He
had q nice, kind voice, and Lady Muriel
Varneigh noticed IL vaguely a. she seated
herself "There is nothing about me TO
justify it-but love you, love you ut
terly." -
He spoke the truth, and as we oil recog.
nize truth when we hear 1t, perhaps from
It's rarity, the pale fnoe resting wearily
against the blue cushions Of her chair
flushed family, and he continued:
~ could not insult you by alluding to
my wealth as an inducement In N.Y.
IT Tho proud little golden bead raised It,
"Money for myself don't value, but
you know-every one knows--how poor
~ are. It's tho others" Her soft voice
tfsmblet slightly, but she pulled herself
up sharply AM rose and faced her would
"I'm che eldest of many. must marry
we'll. It's my duty" she said bitterly.
"Mr. Williamson, accept your offer, and
thank God you were not made q woman.
But there Is something you must know
first"
She spoke with an effort, but catching
glimpse of the kind face bent 30 respect-
fully toward her she gained courage to
continue.
"Kind, good, generous as you are"-the
kind face fushed-''it Is impossible for me
to love you. Respect, liking, friendship
are all yours, butt
1uerc ID 5Oluo ouo olScI uo dbkcu
hoarsely.
"There was" she answered with an
effort "We were both poor, and 1t was
all stopped. He went away and IL stop
ped. He came in for both meney and title
little while ago, and"-she gave hard
little laugh-"and married some one else. -
There was another little silence, then
Muriel began again.
"That Is all but his name, and you have
. right to-
But the common man," with look Of
love in his eyes that removed him widely
from the commonplace, stopped her.
lyon have made me happy by your
trust. AS my wife you shall never regret
the confidence"
He raised the little cold hand he held to
his lips and abruptly left her.
And as she sat alone rejecting that he
might have kissed her lips, Muriel Var
neigh felt that the man who had gone
away her accepted husband was worth
more than she could give him.
He was Watching the brilliant scene,
half amused, half cynical, whom her voice
reused him.
Aren't you going to ask me to danoe"
she said lightly, and John Williamson
started and glanced down at his wife.
Flushed and laughing, she was standing
buttoning long glove by his side In the
empty anteroom adjoining the ballroom.
How sweet she looked, he thought, with
his diamonds on her neck and In her bril-
liant hair, and It was with feeling of in
tense delight that he watched her write
"my husband" near the dance he claimed.
He still watched her az she swung to and
fro among the denoing crowd, and once as
she caught his wistful eye she smiled and
nodded over her partners shoulder.
With the memory of her smile with him
he sauntered away, and finding q seat
screened from view by a group Of waving
palms he threw himself down with half
laugh at the folly that made him long 30
passionately for the one dance he was 60
Ing to dance tonight.
After awhile the sweet, soft music steal
Ing drowsily to him made him think, half
dreaming, of delicious future possibilities
when his little Muriel would forget all else
and perhaps love him.
A voice reused him. Beyond his olev-
erly hidden seat man was speaking
feroely and desperately.
"You thought / could marry anotherp
don't believe 1t. You women are all
dHkc. IL was NY COuslu. IOu Ii8uu
have guessed had you really loved me.
And now-Muriel, you love me STILL.
With fierce, awful despair the listener
covered his ears 80 that his wifes answer
was never heard by him, for when he lift
ed his head they had passed on, and the
music was telling him that the longed for
dance had come at last.
John Williamson removed his wife's
cloak and then did, for him, an unusual
thing-he bent and kissed her tenderly.
She did not shrink from his touch, and he
watched her walk slowly up the broad
stairs to her rooms.
Something In his gaze compelling her,
she turned and saw him. She gave him
soft, kind smile, he smiled back, and they
parted. John Williamson went into his
study and locked the door.
Up stairs, with her head buried In tho
lace counterpane, Muricl was needlessly
praying, Deliver me from temptation"