Middletown transcript., 1907-04-27
TWO LETTERS
. .
BY ELIZABETH ROBBINS

domicile with a slightly acceler-
ated pulse, and scanned the lace
curtained, windows with more
than he would have
been willing to 6dmit-in the
hope that his wife would wave
her hand to him from one OF
them, and then run to the door to-.
meet him. He had been vaguely
uneasy all day, in spite OF the
exultation he had felt over gain
ing his point in the argument Of
the morning. He and Laura had
quarreled many times in the SIX
months since their marriage, and
even during their engagement
they had not always been in per-
feet accord /; but this quarrel had
been considerably more bitter
than any that had gone before.
AS he entered the house, he
wondered if she had regained her
good nature, or if he would have
to coax and pet her and so bring
her round.
He glanced into the parlor and
the sitting room, which were
empty. Mrs. Bree, the house
keeper, was setting the table in
the dining room, but she was not
talking, so he knew that Laura
could not be either there or in
the kitchen, and he ran upstairs.
Not finding the object of his
search there, and a call at the
attic door eliciting no reply, he
returned to Mrs. Bree.
Why, she's gone off. Didn't
you find the letter she left on
your dressing stand the house
keeper said.
He stared at her a little blankly,
then without asking for an ex-
planation, returned to his room.
The letter was sealed, and he
tore it open hastily. There was
no beginning nor end. 1t read
simply:
81 am tired of this catand-dng life;
Before We were engaged, you deferred
entirely to my wishes in everything after
our engagement, you occasionally required
me to defer to yours; since our marriage,
you seem to expect me to always give III
to your wishes, and have absolutely no
will of my own. l have decided that |
am not yet willing to resign myself to a
condition of abject slavery, in this Tree
country Therefore, when you read this
letter, / shall be back home, where |
intend staying for the present. | had a
telegram from Cousin Nell this noon, re-
garding a little commission | had given
her. l let Mrs. Bree think it came from
mother, and that she was sick. You can
let other people think the same, If you
wish, and save your pride. 1t will not
be lie, for mother has not been well for
long time"
Lyman Mason read this mis-
sive with growing wrath, and at
the end crushed it in his hand
and cast it from him, then stood
and glowered at the carpet.
After awhile, Mrs. Bree came
and called him to supper, from
the foot of the stairs. Then he
picked up the crumpled half sheet
of paper, set fire to it with a
match, carefully disposed of the
remains, and descended to his
solitary repast with a grim and
determined expression of counte-
nance.
She will be back in a day or
two, he reassured himself. And
she won't find me any the more
inclined to humor her after this
childish escapade.
Friends and neighbors began
almost Immediately to inquire
about Mrs. Mason, and with in
ward protest-because she had
suggested 1.-THE told them her
mother was ill and she had gone
to her; he hoped she would be
able to leave her in a week, at
the most.
The week passed, however, and
she did not come. Neither did
she write. Lyman grew more
and more impatient and angry.
1t was outrageous, he told him
self, for her to leave him in that
way. He refused to admit that
he had been at all in the wrong.
He would not even review the
past to see if he might not have
been a little to blame in their
differences. No, she had no
cause for complaint. She had
put herself entirely in the wrong,
and placed him in a disgustingly
embarrassing position.
People began now to inquire
after his mother-in-law, to ask if
he heard often from his wife, and
if he had been to see her, and he
he'd to exercise all his wit to make
the thing appear plausible and
all right.
His resentment needed no more
than this to keep it at white heat.
If Laura imagined he was going
to try to make up-either to
write to her or go to her she