The Washington herald., 1914-03-27

loved his home and adored his fine higt
| spirited wife.
He had really never ceased to wonder
why she had married q big rough fellow
] like himself. 1t surely was not his money
! for she had enough OF her own. And
| they had few tastes in common. too
| When Mrs. Mott was reading Ibsen OF
! Shaw or Henry James, Mr.. Mott was
| trailing the villain in some detective
story.
Grand opera bored him to death, while
his wife objected to musical comedy.
When he surprised her with gifts of i'm
mense diamonds, she laid them away
and continued to wear her pearls, which
indeed became her better.
But now his wife did not urge him to
stay. He had made a threat and she
evidently expected him to keep It So
he retired as gracefully as he could He
got his hat and went out with a short.
''Good-by."
At II o'clock Mr. Mott returned. He
had stayed away because he was asham-
ed Of himself. not because he was sulk-
ing. AS a peace offering he carried with
him big box Of candied fruit. which
he politely detested. but Of which his
wife was extremely fond
He was surprised to find the house
dark. A low light burned in the hail.
but the rooms on the first and second
floors were black. The place seemed to
be deserted. Not a servant answered his
ring, after he had turned on the lights
In the library. Bewildered. he laid his
box of candy on the reading table. and
his hand encountered a note:
MY dear Bellman. I am sure we will
both be happier apart. II I were to stay.
every day would bring new differences
Just as they have been doing lately. /
am sure you are not happy and know I
am getting very nervous from the strain.
I have my way of doing things, and I
am afraid I cannot learn new ones now.
Il have discharged all the servants
but Susette, whom I am taking along.
you will find one to suit your taste.
Regretfully yours, Elizabeth"
Mr.. Mott wiped his perspiring brow and
stared into space. He reread the notc
twice, and finally understood that his
wife had gone for good.
He dropped heavily into q chair and
stared at the paper as though 1t were
his death warrant The worst OF 1t was
that he deserved IL all. He had driven
her away by his boorishness-tne fine lit
tie woman whom he had vowed to love
and cherish always! She was so far
above himl And he had meant to learn
her tastes and improve himself and thus
be worthy of her. But he had become
worse instead of better! His roughness.
instead of being buffed smooth by her
refinement, had irritated and hurt her
until she had been forced to leave him!
Days passed and Mr.. Mott got along
the best he could keeping widower's hall
Old Maggie O'Brien had come back to
cook his favorite dishes, but somehow
they had lost their flavor. The first week
or SO he even tried to forget his sorrow
In old-fashioned solid comforts, such as
his coat at meal times. But he
found himself sneaking into the dis
carded carmen. before dinner was half
over
He grew thin and jaded. His busi-
ness went wrong and he cared not.
One Saturday evening he was passing
a shop window the lights of which shone
upon a dozen or so open parasols. He
stopped. attracted by the riot of color as
a honey bee is to flowers. They were of
every hue and combination. which find
excuses in the much-maligned titles
Bulgarian. Persian and Oriental.
Mr.. Motifs soul expanded. Then his
heart contracted. Alas there was no
,ne for whom he could buy one! He
stood. AMI looked, and ionsed. Finally