The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1909-04-12
The Journal Of Neglected Wife

That l should plead for my husbands
love from another woman! Beg from a
stranger for what is mine-mine by law.
by seventeen years of love and de-
vOtionI On. does he never think OF nat
that I have given him the best of
my IifA-my youth, my freshness? And
now that / am faded and old he turns
from me 10 a younger, fresher face. Is
that the nature of man? Are ali men
50? Then why does God let women be
born to such anguish?
July 18th
I have still made no effort to find ont
her name. I have the feeling now that
would rather not know. In a few
weeks it may be different: I NAV he
again filed with that fierce desire to
know-to know. But now l shrink from
knowing any more.
July goth
What weak. inadequate things are
letters Of condolencei 1t seems al
most an fmpertinence to hope that nv
a few cheap trite, commonplace words
you can soothe or alleviate a great
sorrow. And yet it is a. custom thar
must be followed, lest ones silence
be mistaken for Indifference.
l have just written to Helen Cband-
Ter. whose husband, George L. Chand-
Ter, died last week. She has been pros
trated since his death. She loved him
desperately. He was kind to her in
way, but he was always wild and
dissipated.
July 21st
This is my birthday. In all these
years he has never before forgotten.
he has always brought me flowers
But today he does not even know.
shall not mention it. I want no re-
membrance that must be prompted.
Forty-six today-and 1 look fifty. Oh.
how horribly / have aged in this past
year. All these sleepless nights have
carved deep lines in my face. And
yet must live on must :ake what
ever life has in store for me. There
is no escape.
July 22d
Tonight at dinner he spoke of Civ
ing up the house. Asked what 1
thought Of taking an apartment this
winter. Said it would be less lonely
for me when he could not get home
for dinner That he often felt the
uselessness Of keeping this big house
for just us two; it seemed almost as
of the servants than anything else.
When he saw my distress at the
thought. he said Of course 1t should be
as I wished; he wanted me to be
where 1 would be most happy. but
lately he had felt 1 might be happier
in q hotel. where L would not be so
much alone. After that he did not
press the matter, but / could see he
was disappointed.
SO he wants TO give up our house.
He wants to live at a hotel, where he
can be more free. 1t is the beginning
of the end.
July Path.
Sometimes I wonder If I could have
held his love longer had / dressed more
and been more careful that he should
never see me unless I was attractively
gowned. When L look back I am filed
with dismay to thing how often he has
seen me when 1 must have been most
unattractive. II is true that fifteen years
of married life have made me careless.
1 remember all the lacy, delicate per
fumed lingerie of my wedding trousseau.
and how he used to admire them and
call them "frilillins." But now 7 wear
the plainest and sometimes most IN
becoming things. 1 have felt that II
was unnecessary and even extravagant
TO spend as much money on lingerie; in
stead 1 have put It IN the house-in
rugs, cut glass, and silver-in things 1
could keep"
Oh. how foolish I have beenl How
much wiser to have bought some ex-
pensive morning gowns than that solid
silver tea-set this fall The gowns
would have made me more attractive
very morning at breakfast; and the tea
service-I don't think he has ever no.
ticed Il.
And in the evening for dinner-how
rarely l make an effort 10 dress when
we are alone. / have a number OF
charming evening gowns, but 1 seldom
wear them, except when We dine ont
or have some one dining with US. What
am l saving them for? l can have