The Washington times., 1909-04-13
The Journal Of a Neglected Wife


All his love and devotion cannot save
her from that. The skeleton is there
now-the ugly, gaunt bones-n he could
only see through the soft. tair nesh
that covers@them.
Once or twice a year Ellen sends a
box OF clothing to her mother, VINO,
with large family of chlldren, nVeS
IN Georgia. They are very poor ana
can make use of anything that is sent;
l always collect a lot of my own ana
Horace's clothes, and II was Tor TINS
purpose that 1 went through soIhs
trunks in the storeroom today
In one of the trays l came across 4
paIe-biue dressing gown. one OF the gar
lnents 1 had myself made Tor my trous-
seau. l had worn 1t but few times
Tor always felt the neck was cut too
low. And now, except that the lace had
grown yellow, it was still fresh.
How beautifully It was made, with
what care had finished each small
seam. Ald what hopes and dreams 1
mad sewn into ii. And now those tiny
stltcheS. fine and fratl as tney were,
had outlived by happiness! ON,
backi
For a long time j held the gown In
my lap, brooding over It, filled with the
memories 1t brought. How strange to
have it there before me, every stitch I
had put into il still so real, so perma-
nent, while all that it was made for is
deadi
In the lace of the sleeve was a long,
jagged tear. Oh, how wildly 1 remem-
Der that II had been torn on Horace's
cum button during our bridal trip.
was standing before the dressing table
arranging my hair, when suddenly he
came up behind me and caught me in
his arms, bent back my head against
mis- shoulder and with his lips against
my hair. murmured: Ny darling my
beautiful darlingl You belong to me
now! You can never go back ami be
just yourself again, for now you belong
n -dn -
only answer was to press my face closer
against his breast, and so he held me
silently.
When at length he released me, there
was a sound of tearing lace. "Oh,
Nary I'm 50 sorry!" as he stopped to
unfasten it from his cuff button
y ou needn't be- L laughed happily
AS if it mattered-as If anything mat
tered but youi"
Oh, Horace. Horace, you have torn
my heart as you tore this lacei neither
viii ever be the same again. You said
then | could never go back and be just
myself. I would now IL I could Tor I
know you no longer need me. But
cannot cannot! You made me part of
yourself-yoU taught me to want you
And now-now you love some one else
And 1 am alone with only my memories.
August 10
saw him looking at my hands this
morning. He may have done II absent
mindedly. But all through breakfast
and withered they were. Oh, how cruel
ly hands show agei And he used to call
them beautiful And they were beau
tifui, soft and white, with tapering fin
gers and a delicate t-acery OF Veins
But now the veins seem more like wires
the knucl<les larger, and the skin has
become yellow and leathery. I have
been examining them merciiessIy, hold
ing them in different positions that I
may know how they look best and worst
Wnen they are closed the skin IS more
tightly drawn and they do not look SO
Wrlnkled, but when I lay them fat on
the table, the skin en the hack gathers
IN little folds and they look old-old
But worst of all is when hold up my
there is something almost claw-Iike
about It then. Oh, why do not women
die before they grow old?
I have been reading a much-ad dyertisey5
book in the form Of a woman's diary.
The publishers have enthusiasticaIiv-
procIaimed II a marvellous revelation Of
ever reveal her heart in carefully
wrought epigrams, or in a.. extravagant
series or Implicated adjectives? What
strained attempts at cleverness and
painful striving for effect In her des-
perate efforts to be brilliant and sensa-
tlonal. the author seems to have 1uifa
forgotten that IT might also be effect
I've merely TO be-true.
When just now I came to this SON
protest: AZ '''ie"1
at is ali blued over with oblivion now.
out sometimes apprehend myself look
ing 1earfulIy over the delicate whiteneSs
or my arms, and fancying 7 discern
mere and there the faint. faded saffron
OF a brulse, my mind shudderfnsIv ra
coils lest [ be once more steened ~
memory with its vast terrifying silence
Snot with sharp, convulsive flames ar
Diln9lhS pain, memories which enguIf
me IN maelstrom Of emotions cr1Ish-
ing, castratfng, deadenfng, LEAVING mo
put out Z. pallid, swooning shadow of my.
Would any suffering woman On co...
earth ever write like that why fbis
DOCK should have aroused in me sucb
tIsIce resentment hardly know. unless
heit heLe II Is because my whole nature re-
lions being banded forth with S1Iob
mawkish sentimentalism and pIarino
artihciahty.
Sunday. August 1stb
Again 1t hss happened-the teIenhnna
Ilng ana no call And now I know it
Was not a mistake-that 1t was she
H DOtH times II has been on Sunday, tie
Only DAY she cannot reach him at MS
/ once. de had been in all morning. and
Iao Just gone out when the bell rang
ana when / answered there was
no response But this time Central
shrilled: There's your parfy- ~, al al
again I said ''HelloI' but there T-ss
stlll no answer, nothing but +ba3
sNiidhse sIence, thRt seemed throbbinr
I - 4
Ihen faint and far away came a sounJ
IKE SODA stif7ed sob. I Iiste1sd
tensely and for many moments bI,t
there was no other sound 1
Ihen rang Central and asked ~-t-,-.
the call was from, but she could ~
Ten me. All day I have been haunfed
Dy the sound Of that faint. distant sCL
what did It mean? Can She he 80
happy? The thought that she MAJ, eIIf
Ter 100; had never came to me And
yet II she loves him s anu
To- , August Goth
s3LIahgely 3o1. harassed and worried He
irI,5s Goes not hot go out but spends the even
lngs alone In his study He avoi5s ~
an1, and VIII see no callers. Says he is not not
Wen, put I know It Is not that II ~
something about "her" That 3notI,d, -
woman should have the power TO TnaI-a
my my husband sufferl The same 0uesfiHn
0eats always in my mind: Whv llid
I9S G9u ever let this thing happen? WHY
ala she ever come into his tife9 ~
cannot bear to see him ,Inhannv To
! could only share with him or bain
MN IN his trOuble-yes, I would go, ~ ~
mat would tighten on bear, IL UT
could, the suffering this uoroa, =
| brought him. But he shuts mo ont oI,s, lis,9