The Saint Paul globe., 1903-08-06
THE PINK LINEN FROCK.
BY DOROTHY DIX.

courage, she went to her husband and
told him Of her lengings. her despair.
1T isn't that 1 don't love you." she
said, hurrying over the words that she
knew wounded him like stones thrown
by cruel hand, but there is some
thing that tells me that must go away
to the life that is calling me- or viii
die. You-you have seen the world.
you have your work, but II have
never been beyond these hills that
smother me. 1 have nothing to re-
member-nothing but the days that
are all alike. Let me 60" she walled.
Let me go only for three years. 1t
isn't much ut-ef a lifetime, and 1 will
come back and be your slave the bal
ance of my life"
For reply Jim Benton took the slen-
der little figure in his arms and pressed
1t tight against his breast so that she
might not see his face, but she could
feel the, beating of his heart, and once
1t seemed to her 1t almost stopped. At
last. however, he found his voice.
Poor little girl" he said, poor lit
tie song bird that was given wings to
ny and that / have Gagged" and then
he let her go from him to the life she
.craved-freely and ungrudgingly, and
made the way easy for her feet, for
the big silent man. keeping his faithful
watch over the trust confided to him,
had powerful friends in the great city,
who put his wife in the way of realiZ-
ing her ambition.
From the first she was one of those
destined to success. Her glorious beau
ty and the superb voice attracted at
tention at once. and added to this was
strange. illusive. intoxicating vitality
"a sense of the joy of living that was
almost madness-that swept her audi
ences into her mood, and caught and
carried them along with her in an ir-
resistible furor. Up and up she went
by leaps and bounds in her profession
until at the close of the season of The
Queen of the Cannibal Isles" she had.
as the Angel had said to the manager,
her little world at her feet
1t was at this flood tide of her sue
cess that she had turned her face
homeward. The three years that she
had asked for had expired, and not
once in all that time had she seen her
husband. Not once had he asked her
to come back to him, or repined at the
loneliness of his lot. Now she was go
Ing to the mines once more, and as the
train bore her on and on to her des-
tination, she strove in vain TO pierce
the veil that hid the future. Could she
go back to the lonely monotony of that
life? Was one mans devotion worth
the adnlation Of thousand? Had
she the strength to, cast the goblet of
was brimming to the full with all that's
most alluring in life? She could not
answer.
She had not answered the question
when she arrived at the lonely station
of the lonely little mining town. She
had not written Jim that she was
coming, and she made her way alone
to the little cottage where he lived,
and pushed the door softly open. The
rooms were vacant, and she wandered /
from one to the other until she came
to the one where her husband lived.
There was his big desk. with his pa
pers and his little piles of ore to be
tested-orderly, business-like as she
remembered them. but over in one
corner. hanging against nail was
something pink. She went over and
touched it, 1t was a little pink linen
gown that she used to wear before
she went away. and that Jim had lik-
ed to see her In. In a flash of intui-
ton 1t came to her all that it meant
the lonely man, deserted. heart
hungry, who had faithfully kept the
little cast-of garment as he had the
cast-off love, as the only thing he had
left of the wife he had lost The
pathos Of it cut her like a knife. She
dropped down on her knees and bur-
led her face In the folds of her dress,
and when she got up her eyes were
bright with indeScr1bable tenderness,
and she knew that she had answered
her question
A minute more and she had slipped
off the Paris gown she wore. and put
on the old pink frock, and then she
heard Jim's step along the hall, and
she turned to greet him.
Lorraine" he cried, and staggered
against the wall as if he had seen a
ghost, but her strong young arms
were about him, and her dear head
on his breast.
"Jim-Jim," she sobbed. 1--WE come
home at last. / know now that there
is something better than fame and
glitter, and tinsel, and that the love
that can just be faithful is worth all
the applause of all the audiences on
earth. but" and she looked up fear
lessly in his eyes-'I am not sorry
that 1 went. I had to try my wings.
but they have brought me safely back
to the home nest"
Il hear" said the Angel to the
manager, that down at that little
mining town in Alabama the most
glorious contralto voice in my mem
ory is being used to hush a baby to
sleep"
+'I told you she was a woman" re-
piled the manager.