The gazette-times. [volume] (Heppner, Or.) 1912-1925, 1914-06-18
The Neglected Wife


would be sent to her. The big step!
What would it feel like to have taken
itf
But it grew late. No more time must
be wasted. She took down dark cos
tune, dark furs, dark hat and veil.
Dark colored things seemed suitable for
a wife who was running away. They
undoubtedly were the proper wear.
She donned the clothes, fastening
them with fingers which had begun to
tremble in most unaccountable man
ner, regarding herself in the glass
meanwhile with tragically widened blue
eyes.
Now all was done. One last look
round, and then-to make the plunge.
But as she took the last look, a
sound in the hall downstairs made her
start. Had some one thrust the latch
key in7 Yes. the outer door shut with
a bang, voice called her name, quick
footsteps sounded on the stairs, and
her husband was in the room.
"We've saved her. RUBY" he said
excitedly; "we've saved her. She II
live, thank God, And thank God the
strain is over. But we have won. He
pushed the hair off his forehead with
gesture Of relief.
"What-what do you meant Who
will live7" the girl stammered, her
brain working desperately for a way
out of the trap in which she found
herself. Who would have dreamt of his
returning at this hour-the first time
for weeks and monthsf
"The case I told you of. child'
Surely you We not forgottenf The case
I've been so desperately anxious about
| this last month. Lord! but | have had
time of it. Over and over again
thought she was slipping through oul
fingers. and / believe it would have
broken my heart if she had. But She
safe now. She was such a pretty young
thing before her illness, so gay-she re
minded me of YOU, and that was one
reason why He broke off and drew
back, seeing she was not listening
"Sorry, little woman" he concluded
"I shouldn t talk shop, should II But
I'm bit beside myself. Forgive me-
Are you going outf'
eyes" she said, hardly knowing
what she did say. "I'm going to the
Cliffords. - But the lie hurt her, for
she was not bad woman-only vain
and foolish one. 'r..
His face fell. "Must you go7
hoped you would be at home. I've got
an evening off. ColQuhoun is back
again; going to look after his own pa
tients and mine, too, for once. 1t s
such a long time since we've had an
evening together. Can't you stay?'
he asked, wistfully
But his words only helped her to
rally resentment to her aid.
"No,n she answered bitterly. 81
can t stay. I'm going out 1t is not
my fault that we've not had evenings
together Day after day | spend mine
alone, and you never even ask how !
spend them. And when you do come in
all you think of is your patients. l
don t count. I've had more than
enough of it.' She turned away and
began moving blindly about the room
again.
He looked at her dc -edly for few
moments. Thcn-"You are unjust! y
he sad turned slowly from her, and
went downstairs.
Five minutes later she also 1 stole
down, handbag in hand, and out into
the raw murk of the evening. The sit
ting room door was ajar as she passed
and she saw him sttirg there alone.
His face seemed to have grown older
and sterner than it used to be.
A taxi passed her as she stood hest
tating on the pavement outside Should
she take itf No! Taxicabs carried one
so-fast. All! hansom-that would
be better!
As the cab jingled away with her
she took letter from her bosom, long
ing hungrily for the familiar thrill with
which letters in this handwriting had
never failed to supply her hitherto.
Their writer was a master of his craft.