The Richmond climax. (Richmond, Ky.) 1897-1914, 1914-04-22
The Governors Lady
Continued from Page ~

this kind-hearted and plain little
woman"
busting the gubernatorial chair,
Slade repeated mockingly, cut to the
quick by this public allusion TO his
wife's plainness and lack of social
graces.
That simple little phrase, singing
as il was brief, was as match flame
TO dry timber. 1t was all that was
necessary TO bring the hot rage surg
ing through him to the boiling point.
The sweetness of the little woman S
expression. the tenderness of her eyes
whenever they rested upon him, the
plaintive softness of her voice meant
nothing to him then. Through angry
eyes he saw only the lack of smart
ness in her somber brown dress, only
the note of absurdity she struck amid
the exquisite surroundings of the
room he had furnished for her. He
thought of nothing but the sorry spec
tacle she would make at a brilliant
dinner or smart function where beau
tiful women in fashionable chifons
chatted freely and easily of men and
things in the progress of the nation.
This is some of Wesley Merritts
tin-horn footing writing" growled
Slade. "D-n his dirty work."
As her husband muttered to him
self, Mary had calmly resumed her
endless mending of socks, long years
of thrift and saving making it impos-
sible for her to throw away even a
well-worn pair in spite of the fact
that the need for repairing had long
since passed.
Slade found himself looking at the
little woman who had been his wife
for twenty years, through lean years
and hard years, as faithful and pa
tient then as later, when success first
began to come his way, very much as
he might have scrutiniZed an entire
stranger. For a moment the tragedy
of their present state caught at his
soul and he felt the infinite pathos
of the woman's predicament. A softer
note came into his voice as he asked
slowly:
Say, haven't you got any clothes,
Mary? Haven't you any of the things
other women wear at night-silk or
lace or ruffies or-whatever they
are?"
Yes, I've got EN-" Mary replied
indifferently, but it's too cold to
wear 'em, and those silk stockings
T you told me to buy-I can't veal
them, either-they tickle my toes
+ Satin slippers made me uncomfort
/ able, and" she finished with a bub
bling little laugh, Il guess wasn''
/ made for those things, Dan, dear. I'm
too much of a home body"
Her very self-satisfed complacency
nettled her questioner. The very
sight of the darning needle in her fin
gers maddened him.
Good God, Mary" he exclaimed
cant you ever stop this endles:
mending? Haven't / begged you, da!
and night, not to mend my socks.
won't wear socks all over darns-
they're uncomfortable"
Just a suggestion of smile playe,
around Mary SHADES sweet mouth a
she answered:
They're yours, Dan. It's the onl.
thing left that / can do for you-noW
!, j can't bear to see strangers toucl
!. your things" and her voice traile,
off in a wistful sigh, a sigh whicl
might on any other occasion hav
made its appeal to the earnest-face
man now gazing at her so grimly.
The lightness of her tone shove
how little she realized the seriousness
of the situation-how little she under
/, stood how inadequately she was fl
! ing her position as his wife. Sh
, loved her husband with the devotio
, of slave and the reverence of a VOL
shipper at a shrine, but, like many az
other good woman, she wanted {
show her affection in her own wa
and not in his. Because she wante
to do for him with her hands, sh
turned a deaf ear to his pleas tina
! she use her head. She wanted he
i husband to be happy and comfortabl,
but she wanted to make him happ
and comfortable according to her ow
ideas of what ought to make a ma
satisfied. She had seen him rise graz
, ually at first and then by leaps an
bounds. Now that he had becom
wealthy and successful she wanted (
: decide for him that he ought to lie
well enough alone. To her it SCENE
= foolish to bother about being cove
Y nor, absurd for him to fret about tn
way she dressed and did things.
So, for awhile they sat in silenc
and the fire dying down left the ROOF
chilly, so chilly that Mary started u
: to get shawl. Halfway to the doc
n she was peremptorily called back b
I, her husband, who, ringing for mai,
/ dispatched her for the wrap, Will
Mary, Inundated and with somethin
= of the air of a martyr, went sighin
back to the big, uncomfortable cha
to resume the mending that was sue
an irritation to her husband
why can't you learn to be waite
on, Mary?" her husband asked, not III
kindly. "Other women do"
/ I'm slow-slow and old-fashioned
the woman answered, quietly, but wit
an air which plainly showed that sh
was perfectly satisfied with herse
and that she thought he ought to b
1--we never been with women VIII
knew how to do these things. 70
didn't know any such people unit
lately. / don't want to know them
she concluded with an engagingly col
iding smile.
But i can't go everywhere alway
alone" Slade expostulated. "A man
wife ought to go with him and me,
the right kind of people-otherwis
III = 80 Il. =