Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1904-07-09
Mrs. Stones Mistake.
M=9@1-@

BY ELLA WILL SON e.

|
would have shed few tears, and the
kiss Of peace would have been ex-
changed.
| Instead, he burst forth, witheringly:
| Judgment A woman talk of judg-
ment, and then cram her house with
the rankest of limitations? l tell you,
ghtiaR4 fr o yN6u e. nnTnIdi ' Unbalanced have
not been able to stir for months In this
house without hysterical warning
from you about fragile trash, through
which even n cat would hesitate to
pick her way, and l am tired of it
mighty tired"
What had been mere chill set
tied into unmistakable frigidity, and
| Amelia, with the air of a martyr,
studied the advertisements with in
creased zeal. Every single broken
| piece she was bound to replace.
Vincent even ceased to find fault.
hav'ST apparently lost all interest
Bitter thoughts Of him We're in her
mind, for she did not doubt that every
spark of the love he had felt for her
had died out She was schooling her.
self not to care, because it was not her
fault, and thinking how horrible 1t
would be if her friends discovered the
change. Suppose they sympathized?
Ugh!
| In two weeks Amelia had taken
enough from her allowance to replace
every broken article. She had no more
available space, having already stored
surplus bargains in cardboard boxes
In the store room.
TIL newspaper now had no especial
interest for her, and she smiled in a
satisfied way as the advertisements
met her idle gaze. She looked at the
replenished mantel and sighed, Won
dering why she did not feel perfectly
content
Her husband continued his icy polite
ness. She told herself that she was
cruelty misunderstood. and, though she
felt strange and dissatisfied she never
thought Of attributing it to his atti-
tude.
In the end she consulted her phy;,-
clan. He advised change. Amelia
went home and thought. Then it all
came to her.
ayes, I do need change. I need
Vint's love. And to think l was ready
to hate him because he objected to be-
ing slave-to my-yes. yes, trash.'
Tears We're in her eyes and she stood
helplessly, not knowing what to do
first. That was the moment for him to
have returned.
At last she bethought her Of favor
lite dish of his, and hurried down to the
kitchen.
Then she got out her prettiest gown,
wondering why she had worn it SC
seldom of late, and blushing as she re.
membered 1t was his favorite color.
AS finishing touch, she was placing
his smoking jacket and slippers before
the library crate in anticipation of his
fter dinner cigar, when out of the
pocket fluttered paper.
As she picked it up it unfolded, and
the first words at the top of it We're
"Your wife,"
In the right hand corner was figure
two. 1t was evidently the second page
of letter. She hesitated for mo-
ment, but curiosity was too strong.
"Your wife," 1t ran, "is undoubtedly
afflicted with the mOnomania you men,
ton. Not symptom is missing. DO
not make yourself uneasy, however; a
short term at private sanitarium will
bring her around all right, unless hrr
| case Is unusually aggravated. Do not
excite her by speaking of it. The re-
moval must be"
This was the end of the page. She
stared into the fire, holding the sheet
! in her nerveless fingers, trying to real
ize, but before she succeeded she saw
her husband standing in the doorway.
She felt herself sinking. A moment
more and she would be crouching be.
fore the fender.
Then every fibre Of her being rallied
She must net sink like Il guilty thing.
She did not know which way to turn
so fearful was she lest any move
should but be construed into further
evidence of insanity.
Vincent did not speak. He simply
stood there, frightfully tall, gloomy
and terrible, according to her dazed
diy.orted vision.
Was the physician behind him, wait
ing?
Was some frightful conveyance wait
ing outside?
And suppose she never succeeded IL
proving her sanity!
A deadened, moaning cry was wruns
from hn very heart as these thought.
crowded upon her. She reached fol
the mantel to steady herself.
amelia! Are you ill?"
There was nothing in her husbands
tone to indicate he was not speakin.
to an utter stranger, though he came {
step nearer.
DEAREST" she cried. in overburdenet
tones, every syllable threatening to b.
the last. Forgive me. 1 am not in
sane, have not been. Only foolish
warped, oh, criminally so! have jus
found this frightful letter. Tell M
that you know me for my own oil,
self. l never dreamed you meant
when you said nine out of every tel
men would consider my mind unbal
anced. Tell me that you did not!'
"What else could I think when yo
lave apparently regarded me as an in
terloper ever since your collection need
ed all the room?" he asked, his arm
severely folded, though had she looke
up just then she would have seen
twinkle in his eye.
"What can | do?" she sobbed mis-
: erably.
"Be ysur own natural self and Sc
off absut seven-eighths of your treas
.. ures, or else work them of on You
frends-or, better, yonr enemies" b