The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1920-06-08
CONFESSIONS
OF A BRIDE
Copyright, N. z. Az

But my husband was not waiting
at home to listen to my explanation.
to kiss and to make up. 1t was day,
Of sad mischances. determined to
be ruled by them no longer. 1t wac
ridiculous TO be so unhappy because
Bob had not been at the other end
OF the wire when tried to phone him
explott-for the honor OF the family!
1t was absurd TO let Ann Lorimer put
her little finger in my domestic at
fairs.
would have done with mischances.
would be master Of my fate. /
would model the remainder Of the
day in sane and logical manner.
So 1 set to work in Just the ordir.
airy way OF the average loving wife,
the way which usually leads to sue.
cess: prepared an especially dainty
dinner for my loving husband.
spread the table with my finest linen
and upon IL / arranged the Copen-
hagen china which Bob approves So
highly.
Then 1 put on brand new frock
which Bob had never seen, becom-
ing girlish thing of pale pink geor.
gette, with a drapery OF cream.colored
chiffon cut like an apron, and liber-
any -lIIlleut anu LI6u Will uuBG oOll
bow Just below my shoulder blades.
A wonderful white "cover.all' pro
tected my dainty dress while | set in
row on the kitchen table all Of the
ingredients for Bob's favorite dish
souffle. When l heard Bob's car on
the drive l would stir all the things
together and pop the dish into the
oven. Then | would fling off my
white apron, rush to the edge Of the
garden and greet my man with per
fectly grand hug.
In my heart believed that nothing
in the world was important enough
to come between me and my husband.
Itsuppose that is trust of supreme
kind, the kind all men desire and few
know what to do with when they get
it..
When the preparations for the souf-
file were completed felt almost CAV.
Moreover the blu cehina, pink silk,
and cream.colored chiffon made a
French color combination which Bob
myself In my dining-room.
Bob was five minutes late, l noticed
as slipped my glass baking dish
from its silver holder and set It
ready for the souffle mixture. But
no matter. The odor of white lilacs
intrigued me. l would have time to
deck my table with them ana as I
gathered them | would plan just how
to explain that unfortunate scene in
the park.
Before l had anchored the unruly
drip upon my table cloth 1t was Is
minutes after the dinner hour. mo
matter" repeated, although 1t was
] not often Bob kept our dinner wait
ing. / ran upstairs, pinned back a
struggling tress, powdered my nose.
and rubbed wrinkle from between
my eyebrows. Downstairs, once
more, l relaxed : quite scientifically
while l waited.
Thirty minutes after the dinner
hour-and still no Bobi Perhaps an
had last seen him, his car was leap
ing uphill In bounds, 1t seemed to my
excited imagination.
Forty-five minutes after the dinner
hour-and my husband had not phon-
ed to mel That was new experience.
picked up the phone to call his
fathers house and inquire about him.
Perhaps his mother was I'll. took
off the receiver and then rudely re-
piled to the operators inquiry by
hanging 1t up abruptly.
Why betray our domestic differ
ences to my husbands family?
In my heart l knew had no rea-
son to worry about Bob. He was stay
ing away from me because he was
angry. He was jealous and he was
making me pay. He would come, Of
course, In an hour or two.
l would try to wait patiently-but
oh! the hurt of It! felt as II were
enduring a quite unique hurt-as If
no other woman had ever suffered SO.
But then, there was the Madame But.
terfly music to prove the universal
grief Of the woman who waits for q
man to come. Men like that music
Bob more than most men.
Two hours passed-and still no hus-
band. wept over the pretty table
had set, wept over the wilted salad
and the crystal bowl OF Strawberries,
and the souffle which never had had
chance to prove itself either fail.
ure or success.
Salt tears ran down my cheeks as
| packed the food into the refriger-
ator and locked the rear doors OF
the house.
After l had gone upstairs, 1t occur
red to me that had forgotten to eat
any supper. 1t also occurred to me
that that little fool, Ann Lorimer,
had caused domestic tangle which
might be hard to straighten out.
ITO Be Continual