The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1898-11-18
Tragedy or Comedy.

I
had not done anything great, but his work
was distinctly promising. and his name
was gradually making itself known. IN
lucky, he had married the wrong wo-
man.
But my friend was not like some men
he did not whine and cry, he made the
best Of il. He did not go out and search
| for twin soul" TO whom he might con-
fide his marital sufferings, though, Phoe-
| bus knows, he had enough 10 put up wsth
II was not bad temper. Il was jealousy
bitter, mean, incessant Jealousy, that
srudged him even with a spiteful tongue
and narrow heart, who have ruined the
| careers Of many a sensible man. She
hated 10 hear her husbands praises sound
| ed in her ears.
One afternoon Agatha was slanging Ar
| buthnot because some women who had
| happened to call the day before had gush-
| ed and told her how fortunate she was 10
1 be the wife OF such a rising genius. Her
! ace was crimson With anger and her voice
I was shrill as she mmicked her callers
Dear Mrs. Arbuthnot! How proud you
must be OF your clever husband! He's
! quite a genius. How I envy you living
with the man who can write such excel
! lent stories,'
And then Arbuthnot did the most SEN
sible thing possible. He walked out OF
the dining-room and locked himself up
in his study. "A man must dree his own
| weird" Arbuthnot said. as he sat down
YEARLY a the bureau and looked at the
sheets of paper that Uttered over his
desk. I'm not the only fool who's found
marriage a failure, and, after all. I've
got a brain as well as a heart. I'll give
myself up TO work, and waste no time in
morbid self-pity. That's a form OF cow
ardice that leads 10 the cutting of ones
throat and if I've exhausted the posi-
bilities of marriage, I've not exhausted
the possibilities of life"
From that day Arbuthnot progressed
swiftly through the book that was TO
make his name. This was to be his
masterpiece, wherein he would show his
best of brain and heart; and, as the weeks
rolled on, and the novel neared its end.
Arbuthnot realized his work was good.
and in that knowledge could afford to
live, and did live, without love and SYM
pathy
And this book is TO make you famous7'
said Agatha with bitter contempt. Il
suppose when it's published every one
will come and envy me because I'm the
wife of the genius. George Arbuthnot."
Her scornful emphasis only brought a
smile to Arbuthnot's face.
Il don't know about that" he said,
good-naturedly, but It's the best work
I've done yet"
How long will Il take you 10 finish
it?' she asked slowly, looking down at
the untidy desk.
Il hope to finish it by next week. said
Arbuthnot, triumphantly. I've allowed
Lorrimer, the Weekly Review man, to see
some parts of IL, and he's expressed a |
favorable opinion and thinks it's bound |
to be a success
Agatha's eyes narrowed at the corners. |
'Lorrimer's a fool she said. angrily.
It was one cold afternoon, ten days |
later, that Arbuthnot stood on his door /
step in the act OF inserting his latch /
key, smiling at some pleasant reminis- |
cences of his recent talk with his pub !
Usher.
Suddenly a wild, terrified cry broke from 1
the house, followed by scream after /
scream, reiterated with such intensity OF l
anguish that Arbuthnot himself caught |
the infection OF terror, and fumbled with |
trembling hands at the latch-key
At last ne managed to open the door |
and run into the hall. A fearful sight |
met his eyes. From his study door few |
something-an object enveloped in with
ing flames, and from it there came pierre
ing, agoniZed shrieks. As the draft from
the open door blew fiercely down the cor
ridor the flames leaped higher and high
er round their living prey, until Arbuth-
not's sickened gaze saw nothing but
brilliant ball OF fire.
God! 1t was Agatha! Mad with tor
ture, the flaming figure rushed toward
him and threw out its arms In agony.
Arbuthnot caught II In tight embrace, |
and with all his strength hurled himself
and the shrieking figure onto the car
peted floor and rolled over and over until
az last the flames were beaten out.
Three hours later the doctor came soft
ly downstairs. He had used all his skill
TO bring life back TO the disfigured body
that now lay motIonless on the bed. 1t
was all in vain. Agatha's injuries were
beyond all help, and she had lived only
three hours.
Her husband had never left her side
md though badly burned about the hands
and face, had scarcely realized his own
injuries. AS he looked at the cruelty
face. now swathed and hid
len in bandages. a rush OF tears blind
ad his eyes, and he knew that all past
differences were swept away. and that
gatha would live heneeforth in his mem
Dry only as the woman whom he had 1
,nce loved with all his heart. Before life
1ickered out in that suffering body,
I
ler husbands gaze fixed with intense pity /
ana love upon her face. To Arbuthnot ,
[ seemed that she pleaded doubly for ! ,
forgiveness, but even as he looked the !
ids closed again. and in a few moments | :
agatha's spirit had slipped into the great | a.,
silence.
When all was over Arbuthnot stopped .
md kissed the cold. pale lips.
Later in the evening he went down
stairs 20 his study. AS he entered the
DOM a shudder ran through his body; he !
emembered the figure OF flame that had
capped into his arms but d few hours ago,
nd his heart was torn al the thought
# Agathas sufferings :
AS yet il was a mystery how she had :
sught fire. Presumably sha had been 7
warming herself in his study and her s
hin grenadina dinner dress had swept /
90 near the flames. A few dull red en-
iers still burned in the CRATE. Arbuthnot G
il the lamp and sat down mechanically :
0 his desk. >
Thank God for work." n. said. with a ;
eep sigh. AT least I can forget for a r
inc"
He opened the deep drawer wherein his
lie OF manuscript had lain ready for the
rinter's hand. One or two omissions
ould easily be rsctihed now, and the
work. would soothe his weary heart ard :
rain. But-the drawer stood empty
lastly he pulled out its counterpart Nc;
hat too. held nothing. With feverish
ands he rummaged each pigeon-hole / il
urnsd everything out OF his bureau On 0
he chairs. the tables. The manuscript 81
ad disappeared. !
a fearful thought darted into his brain
Ie ran 20 the FIRE place-his eyes fell on
one chsrrsd ashes in tke fsndsr.-Ex- J.
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