Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1905-11-04


of my husbands love nobody
knows the story: | should like to tel! the
truth TO someone before ] die, and
shall not live 10 see another year.
Ike your face: | think yon would nm
derstand; | will tell you. You might
have been sent to me on purpose.
shall be glad to know what Il good wom-
an thinks of what / did. Not that
regret it" with sudden iierceness: mot
that have any remorse, ! would do the
same thing over again tomorrow.
could not have stopped her II / had
wished. and though l slrrank instructive
~ from the confidence, / was filled with
n great pity for this lonely woman and
lGnged to help and comfort her. | could
see that here was No common tragedy.
Friends advised me against him, told
me he was an adventurer and was mae
Iying me for my money, she began,
but would not believe them What
woman would who loved as | did-who
had been waiting for someone to love
for five and twenty years: You see,
did not win or give affection easily, and
held even him ut II distance as long
as | could; but his voice aud smile
shook my pride and coldness-he had all
the arts and graces that please woman,
especially one who only known the
rough, unpublished men of the mtors--
and when he made me see the beauty
of life by the light of his love sur
rendered myself with Il sigh of delight,
to the unaccustomed warmth and bright.
ness. | was very happy in those days;
for six months life seemed all joy Peo-
pie said had grown young and sirlish
as | never was before"
Half timidly | laid my hand on hers,
and she did not repulse me, there was
something i'll her voice | could hardly
bear to hear.
Then he began 10 grow weary of the
mo0rs and the uneycntful life. and he
made excuses 10 go To London more and
more often. / would gladly have gone
with him-as / would have gone all over
the world-had he asked me. but he did
not, and | was too proud to offer what
he did not seem to desire. When he
cane home now and then for the shoot
ing ana hunting he generally brought
friends with him: people | did not know
and did not like. They made UP their
parties and amusements without me, |
became 81 nonentity in my own home.
Ny old servants showed their indigna-
ton silently but plainly, one or two
friends tried 30 speak-to tell me thing:
but | stopped them at once: | would lis
ten To no words against my husband.
was not woman TO fight over trifies,
quarrcls. especially matrimonial ones.
lad always seemed to be vulgar and de-
grading. | waited patiently still. hop
ing against hope"
1T was cruel ingratitude." said
hotly, when yon had given him so
much. There must have been a strong
chord Of sympathy between us. for
could enter into her feelings as though
She had been of my own blood.
Yes, but don't KNOW that thai
counts for much, my dear; Il base ma
ture chafcs against the giving even
while it takes al. But at last the day
came when my eyes were opened. my
own honor-and the honor of my house
which had never known a Stain-de-
mandcd that | should speak by acct
dent ] overheard my husband making
protestationS of eternal devotion to one
of his guests. Il woman who had been
lnsolcnt to me more than once. and to
whom | had only shown the formal po-
likeness that my position required
had noticed my husbands infatuation
for her, but by this time | knew his row
ing fancy, and | did not attach any par
ticular importance to it; but what | had
overheard tell me that the matter was
serious.
Had you no one to help you?'' |
asked pitifully. Was there nobody to
take yOuI partF
Il tool; my own, child. | had always
been accustomed to depend on myself
| summoned my husband to private
interview. | told him what | had heard
and | insisted ;hat the woman should
leave the mouse ut once. " He
laughed in my face.
She shall stay as long as | please,
he said inSolently. DO you think ] am
going to he shut up in this dull hole with
only You for company? Ii is very good
of my friends to take pity on me.
You can 20, too. if y0u wish. | said
calmly, hut | know that she shall 1t is
20, tpI tlot I'll
house and, for my own sake and the sake
of those who lived here before me, l will
not have ii diSgraced,"
Then lie lost control over himself, and
/ had to endure such words and insults
as. had | been y man, / would have made
him answer for at once; being only
woman / was forced to listen in silence
AS he went away. he turned mt the door
with an evil smile on his white face and
said:
I'VE are going ont for ride together
now. You will see us both dinner
You shall neither of You enter this
house again, | said quietly. looking him
straight i'll the eyes. / have done with
you forever
His laugh echoed contemptuousy
down the corridor, hut was beyond he
ing angered with it. though | knew he
had probably gone to tell the woman
all that had passed between us. | was
quite sure in my own mind that | should
never he troubled by either OF them
again. although as yet l did not know
how this would be brought about.
Half nm hour later | saw them ride
away together, the woman looking back
with knocking laugh in case | might
he Watching The rest of the guests bad
gone into the city to some festival. and
| knew they would not return till late.
told the servants that they could go,
too as | should he alone. and Shoa!d
not want them.
Then waited for what would hap
pen.
AT that time there was moat round
the house with a drawbridge, dating from
some centuries ago, when the house was
built and protection was needed against
any wandering band of marauders. 1t
was growing dusk when ut last l saw
two figures riding up to the bridge, but
recognized them at once. They seemed
/ in high spirits. | could hear their laugh
ter from the other side. As the horses
stepped on the drawbridgc | neld up my
( lanl