The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-08-21

The summons to breakfast cut short MT. Elnsies eulogy of his business methods Ensconced behind his paper, he did not notice that his wife ate nothing She sat back of the coffee urn, gazing about with closeness of attention that gave the effect of novelty to the most familiar object This was her last meal at the round table where she had sat bride. looking across timidly at the man she had chosen The high chair had stood at her right, when the boy had been big enough to come down to the dining-room. mist that just of tears ciouded her vision the thought. She had broken herself of weeping because 1t annoyed her husband.
 chair All her fond clinging had not avaed to keep him baby, and his rapid growth had brought her
 She came back from her memories with the reaiza- tion that her husband rising from the table, that he was coming toward her for the formal meaningless kiss which the outward sign of the beautiful per lection of their marital relations She turned faint at his approach The impulse to beg him to spare her was so strong that it almost overmastered her prudence Her lips were icy like those of a dead woman, his brushed them. He noticed neither that nor her paor. the hands which grpped each other til the hngertps left purple prints Goodby he said
 "Good-byi" she repeated, mechanically, and won- dered at herself that she could feel nothing but relief t was over the long ls the insufeFaDle a humiliation nights. Youth was still hers. Love waited for her Freedom was to be had for the taking The door that shut upon her husband was the closing of one hfe Now she would begin to live again.
 Her preparations were already made. There was no sense of furry to sound its dscordant noe She gave her directions for the day, making out the dinner with unusual care, cautioning Lefty about the roast
 q shall not be here Letty." Mrs. Elaslie said
 T going into the city by the morning train and shall not back for dinner Her voice was steady but her heartbeats quickened with the realization that she committed
 Mrs. Elrnslie suddenly took the work-hardened hand in both her own. You've been very good to ule, Lefty If anything should happen to me want you to know that shall forget"
 She left her goodby to the boys for the last. The other ties had snapped like tow. Her farewells had been the turning of the key that opened her prison door But the upstairs different. The lit tie white bed stood when the boy had knelt be- side 1t every night for his evening prayer. She had kaelt with him often, pure in heart as he.
 Oh, if the boy were there! She flung the thought dehantly in the face of the Almighty If the boy had lived, she would have had strength to meet all temp tations, even the dearest. An unlawful love could kne1t every night at his bedside and prayed God to keep him pure. There would have been sacrifice too great to keep her untarnished had she her sons honor to guard But he had died. God had taken him, and left her defensc1ess.
 She looked her last about the silent room-a long, fearless scrutiny The striking of clock warned her that it time to go As she stepped into the hall the breeze blew the door to- and she wondered dully if perhaps angel with flaming sword kept guard on the other side Size could never open it again. Whatever joys life had for her. whatever compensa- ton she might find in mans devotion for the good she had missed, she would again have the right to enter the where her boy had lain dead.
 She put her hat hastily, took her traveling-bag and turned to go down the stairs Then she halted and swayed. She off her veil and fell upon her knees peering with dated eyes, her shoulders heavg Her shriek died in her throat, as if hand had clutched It. White and quivcring she bent the polished oak Was she going rad7 It was that, or else miracle had been wrought for her deiiverance
 The maid coming from the where she had