The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1911-01-05

reached MS ola nOuSekeeper, Tanta'
Sheppard, by letter, which also
contained a list of instructions, the
length of which set the simple ole
woman's head in a whirl Of confusion
and worry. She and all the Kaffi1
servants were at once plunged into a
state of feverish activity, for the or
changes, but also structural altera-
tions.
A few weeks later transport wag-
ons laden with furnishings arrived
from Kimberley, and deposited their
precious burdens at the house whish
was still unready to receive them.
Carpenters bringing timber for their
operations also arrived, and merci-
lessly proceeded to transform the
humble bachelor quarters into what
was, for an up-country settlement, q
small palace. Tanta, like the true
Afrikander she was, gave up further
worrying when these men appeared,
and submitted to the inevitab BILE. She
fed them well and left them to do
their worst.
Then, when it was all ready, one
evening the POSTCARD arrived, and.
instead of passing on to its usual
destination at the store, drew up at
the farm with all the flourish its Hot
tentot driver could extract from ,es
jaded team.
There were only two passengers.
Ferman Elwood sprang to the ground
and assisted his bride to alight. He
led her to where the nervous, much
worried housekeeper stood waiting TO
receive them on the stoop.,
This is my wife, Tanta," he an
nounced in his grave way, while the
Kaffir boys secured and deposited the
luggage with almost reverential care.
I'VE. are going to take great care OF
her, you and l." he went on, smiling,
land if you do as we'll for her as you
have always done for me, shall owe
you a debt of gratitude i can nevsr
repay.''sg S
Such was Mary's homecoming,
such the beginning of her loveless
life in the country she had
so often dreamed of and longed for.
The few white people in the settls-
ment accepted her as they accepted
most events in their lives, without
without any question. It
was sufficient that she was Elwood's
wife.
So twelve months passed away.
Mary was sitting now on the deep.
stoep, lounging in
creaking basket-chair, watching the
fiery death of the daylight, and idly
dreaming. Her little sun-tanned face
wore a rebellious look, her soft grey
eyes had a suggestion Of Impotence
in them, and there was a hardness
about the full lips that had never
been there in the days when she had
struggled to make two ends meet in
the small fat in Pimlico.s
She was awaiting her husbands re-
turn from one of his frequent, pro-
longed Journeys from home. He had
been due much earlier in the day,
but already the hour of the evening
dinner had passed, and he had not
arrived. 49,
But Marys changed appearance
was not due to any annoyance at this
delay, There was something deeper,
more lasting in her expression than
mere display Of ill-temper at such an
Her marriage to Elwood had devel-
,ped into something in the nature of
Z tragedy, such as in her widest
she could never have dreamt
Of, and the horror of it all was upon
her now, maddening her, haunting,
her.
What had she done to deserve such
she asked herself, and
he cry, the bitter, hopeless cry had
been wrung from her again and again
n the past weeks and months. She
mad no one to turn to for help. mol
,ne to whom she could explain. She
was utterly isolated here in her own
home, for even the man whose love
mad brought her there was denied her
as a, confidant. No, the tragedy of
her marriage must remain to be borne
in silence, she must fight out the
battle herself. Only her duty re-
NAMED to her, and her hope lay in
the small consolation Of doing that
honestly.
And it had all happened 90
strangely; it was the hand of Fate
on remorselessly, inevitably.
Elwood had been away on one Of
those mysterious long tricks which SO
,ften kept him from her side, and of
which he rarely spoke on his return.
On this occasion his journey had last
I'd several weeks, and, so far as his
wife knew, it was quite indefinite
Then he suddenly returned one night
1T supper-time.
During the meal he was more silent
han usual. There was even a sug-
yestion Of WEAKNESS and depression
upon his usually calm face. He spoke
little and ate sparingly. His whole
spirit seemed weighted down, so much
SO that Mary was constrained to speak