Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1901-02-01

his book beside her. Oh, it was cruel,
cruel, that this husband she had known
and loved and trusted so long should
so bring disgrace upon them all now.
She would endure it no more.
"Dick, do you know Janet Golden ?"
she asked, Goa srolling her voice as well
as she could.
Janet Golden? No, mother, don't.
Who is she?"
81 was just trying to remember
whether had heard the name before"
she said.
OF course she could live with her hus-
band no longer. Should she accuse him
and taunt him with his infidelity? No,
her whole nature revolted at that. She
would replace the letter where it had
fallen, on the library table, watch
| from the doorway the guilty shame
mount her husbands face when he
found he was detected-and then leave
his house forever. Would he be so lost
as to show no sense of shame? He had
said as he left that he was going to a
directors meeting and would be back
at ten. Perhaps he was with that wom-
an even now! The insult of it all! She
dropped her wSrk and fed to her OVID
room, to await his return.
Her son Dick wandered into the IL
brary for another book little late,
when his eye caught the signature
Janet Golden" in a bold handwriting
"Why, that's the name mother
was asking about" he said to himself
and before he realized just what he was
doing his eyes had taken in the letter.
1t surprised him at first, then puz.
zled him. But as he remembered his
mothers manner its meaning flashed
upon him. There it was. addressed to
his father, all too plainly.
He had lived long enough. and seen
enough of the world to know It's sin.
But it had never occurred to him that
his father could do anything wrong
His first impulse was to rush to COM
fort his mother. But this shame that
had come upon them held him back.
No. they could not talk about it-not
yet, at least. What were they to do?
OF course he must stick TO his mother
They had never been demonstrative
family. though they had cared for each
other dearly. But all his affection for
his father seemed blasted now. How
could he have done so? He remem.
bered that his father and mother had
sometimes quarreled-but he had al.
ways regarded that as merely one OF
the defects of weak human nature. He
had never taken the quarrels seri.
ously.
hat 90
rate now. What could they tell their
friends? What excuse or explanation
could they offer?
The cold perspiration stood on his
brow as he thought of it all. He would
meet his father upon his return and
ask what it meant. He felt that the
family honor was now resting on him.
The minutes dragged themselves
along interminably. 1t seemed an age
before he heard the gate click, and
then his fathers quick, energetic tread
along the gravel walk. A cold chill
seized him. He heard the steps mount
the porch and cross; he saw his mother
descend the stairs quickly. her face
pale and drawn, and PLACE herself where
she could see the library table Their
eyes met and told their own story
They both heard the peculiar grating
sound of the night key in the lock and
saw the father enter.
Hello" he said, unconcernedly. not
noticing their set faces nor the fact
that they failed to reply, Then he
walked to the library and picked up the
letter.
They watched every movement. He
held it off at arms length, as he had
lately been forced to do when his
glasses were not at hand. Then he
smiled.
"Oh, Mary, you found it, did you?"
he said, with the utmost candor. I'm
glad of that. l was afraid | had lost
it. You remember Janet Golden, don't
you? She's old Job Blacks step
daughter, you know, the one that's
crippled Nearly everyone calls her
Black, but her name is really Golden.
She's trying hard to get money to go
to college and 1 succeeded in getting
her place on the evening force at
the public library. Hasn't she an odd
way of expressing herself? I guess
I'll turn the job of stopping in some
evening to hear her thanks over to
you. | don't like that sort of thing"
and he handed his wife the letter.
But he does not know to this day
| just why ii was that she threw her
arms around his neck and kissed him,
| Il =, IL