Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 40, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 June 1886 — REUNITED. [ARTICLE]

REUNITED.

BY JOSIE MORLEY.

We had quarreled bitterly that morning; in fact, the breach had been widening between ns for some time and it took but a ■mail provocation to make the gulf of distension between us completely impassIt was difference at first, but Norma was capricious and I was hot-tempered anffsanreafeonable. We both magnified mole -hillSSgrio mountains, and remembering every fft>kja4»««F or< l apoken by the other, we nursed our woth and resentment until we had kind thought remaining for each other. Thus it had gone on for several months, until we had been married three years. The morning of which I speak, we had and words had been spoken on both sides that each thought could never he forgotten or forgiven. For a while I had tried to hold my fiery temper in check, but at last when my wife wound up a torrent of taunts and reproaches by saying that she had never ceased to regret our marriage, that it was a mistake that had made her miserable for life, my rage became uncontrollable, and throwing prudence to the winds I bade her take back her freedom, telling her that I would leave her to herself and never trouble her again. I left the house without waiting for a reply, and, going straight to a hotel I engaged rooms until I could complete arrangements for a foreign tour. It was not until evening and I was alone in my own room that I took time to think; then, as i looked the matter over. I began to regret the hasty step I had taken, for in spite of the miserable life we had led I had loved my wife. It is true, as I hate said before, she was wilful and capricious, but I had not been patient or forbearing and J could not lose sight of the fact that with all her wilfulness she had a warm, loving heart and many noble qualities. I liemembered also that in many instances I had been exacting and selfish, thus chafing the proud spirit so impatient of control ana so ready to resent any appearance of tyranny, but so quick to respond to gentleness and loving forbearance. Now that I bad taken the step that was to put her ... from me forever, my conscience lashed me sorely for the rash measure I hod taken, urged on by my okra impetuous anger. I knew well that’her speech of the morning was the result of hasty impulse, for in the face of her angry Words I knew she loved me. She had given me many proofs of that love in the past. My mind went back to the time, more than a year before, when 1 had been pros- | (rated by a malignant never; how she remained at my bedside through weary days and nights of watching, never Quitting her post except when forded to do so through exhaustion; then returning to renew her vigil as soon as she had obtained a short period of indispensable rest. That night m my lonely room, her face as it appeared to me on returning to consciousness after a long interval of forgetfulness arose before me like an accusing spirit She had, through sheer fatigue, dropped her head upon the pillow by my side, and with her pale face, and the dark circles around her eyes, the result of sleepless nights and anxious hours of suspense, she looked almost as much an invalid as myself. I had thought a few weeks later when the feeble wailing cry of a tiny babe was heard in our home, only to be hushedin the silence that could never be broken, that nothing could ever cause a discord between us again; but it was little more than a year ago, and she had returned to the home of her girlhood. I sat solitary, brooding over the events of the day, and we had mutually agreed that henceforth the current of our lives should run in separate channels. '

For a nrotiAaC the thought almost tan. manned me; then there arose in my mind the memory of her harsh words of the morning, and the recollection awoke the demons of pride and wrath in my heart* driving all tender thoughts from my mind, and steeled my feelings against her anew. The days passed by and in due time I was ready to sail for Europe. It was night, and I was to start at 6 o’clock on the following morning. I could not content myself in my room, and, lighting a cigar.’l went out into the street to try the effect of a brisk walk and the night air upon my depression. Unconsciously my footsteps turned down the old familiar street that led to my own house, that house where we had passed so many hours together, both pleasant and unpleasant, but the sight of the closed doors and darkened windows filled my heart with such a feeling of desolate loneliness that I hurried away, thankful that I should in a short time put the wide sea between myself and the scene of my

great trouble. Old Time, who neither stops nor stays in his tireless journey, had rolled round m his orbit and brought the snows of five winters and ripened the harvests of as many summers, when I returned again to my na - tive land. Through all the years of my wanderings I had held no communication with my wife. In the intervening time I had come to look upon my own conduct regarding our separation in anything but a favorable light. That she also had been at fault was true, but I was several years older, and with my more mature judgment should have been wiser, but I bad long looked upon regrets as useless, and had no thought of reconciliation in my mind when I came home. Indeed, I did not even know that she had not obtained a divorce and made a second marriage, though God knows no thought of marriage had entered my own mind. It will perhaps be a matter of wonder that my friends and relatives, with whom I corresponded regularly, had not kept me

informed u to (he actions and whereabouts of my wife; but I asked no question*, and it was tacitly understood ber tween us that it was a forbidden subject, and they never mentioned her name. On my arrival st home I found my sister Delia in a flutter of excitement over a ball which was to be held at the home of an old acquaintance, Mrs. Lisdell, and nothing would satisfy the little lady but my company at the place of amusement. After much persuasion I reluctantly consented to go, and Thursday evening found ns among the guests at the ball. I had escorted my sister to the residehce of Mrs. Lisdell, and leaving her with the lady of the house, had gone out arm in arm with Phil McKay, an old friend who had been traveling in the old country and into whose company I had been so fortunate as to fall nt Florence. He left America some four years previous to my own departure and returned about two months before the even - ing of which I speak. He was absent at the lime of my marriage and our separation, and as 1 never mentioned the subject, it is no wonder that he , still remained in ignorance of the facts in the case. We strolled np and .down the street, talking of the adventures of the past sos a time, then at length we returned to the ball-room. Phil sauntered away through the crowd, while I seated myself in a corner, out of the brilliant throng, to watch for old acquaintances and amuse myself in my own way. I had sat there but a few minutes when J heard a voice that sent every nerve in my body tingling and my heart throbbing with a that almost suffocated me. There was but one voice in the world that could so thrill me and that was Norma’s. As I looked up she was standing in the full blaze of the gas-light talking with Phil McKay. She glanced carelessly around, her glance fell upon my face and her eyes looked straight into mine. There was just the least perceptible pause in the conversation, the faintest possible quiver of her lips and flash of crimson in her cheeks, then she turned her eyes slowly away and resumed her remarks without he companion having noticed that there had been an interruption. She did not look toward me

again. I have not said that Norma was beautiful, but the most indifferent stranger could not look upon her face without acknowledging Jhat it was jocose. I could see but .little since I had sees her ./last. As she stood in the brilliant light| she seemed a trifle more womanly; there kas a shade more of sadness, or perhaps, a more mature expression than of old |(she was but little more than twenty at thellinie we had separated), but let the slight change be what it might, it was for the bett®f and my eyes never looked upon a fairer picture than she made that night. She medium height, of slight, graceful pgure, her purple black hair was arranged in a quaint old fashion, a mixture of coils andbraid that shone in the bright light like satin and was held in place by a silver dart with drooping pendants representing flowers of the deepest scarlet. Her eyes were of the darkest shade imaginable of purple blue, and her creamy white cheeks with the delicate flash of crimson were shaded by long curling lashes as blaek as night. Her teeth were white and even and gleamed like pearls between her lips, which reminded one of rare, red old wine, as they were parted in a smile that lighted up and gave a pleasant expression to every feature. Her .slender white fingers were encircled with bultwo rings and I noticed with a thrill of delight that one was the solitaire diamond of our betrothal and the other a plaiiygolden band wedding ring. As for her dnSss, it was simply perfect—just a bewjldering combination of shimmering silver gray silk and rich creamy lace, with a touch of scarlet here and there, as she alone conld blend them to the best advantage. A few moments McKay remained by her side in conversation, then turned and looked around until his eyes fell upon my face, then made his way to my side. “Come, McDonald,” he said, “they will have a waltz next and you must have a partner. I will introduce you to the handsomest lady in the room.” I arose mechanically and accompanied him, willing to do anything to divert my mind from the one subject that gave me such torturous pain. We passed on through the crowd until—could I believe my eyes?— he brought me face to face with the last jerson I would have wished to confront—ionna. The room seemed to turn around in a fantastic manner; asinadreaml heard my friend pronounce my name and hers (she had taken her maiden name), then with a mighty effort I recovered my self-

possession and I fancied there was a touch of scorn in her tone as she said: “Mr. McDonald and I have met before,” and, whether real or fancied, that tone gave me complete mastery over the emotion that had almost overcome me. The demon of pride once aroused, urged me to, at least in appearance, be as careless as herself. With a slight bow and a mocking smite I asked her hand for the waltz as though she had been the perfect stranger our friend fancied her to b«. Without a moment’s hesitation, though with a flash of the old defiance I remembered so well in her splendid eyes, she placed her hand in mine. We took our place among the dancers, and, as if it were the very irony of fate, the music struck up, and the bewilderingly sweet notes of the Beautiful Blue Danube floated through the room. That waltz had been her favorite and mine in the days of “Auld Lang Syne,” and the memory was almost more than I could bear, but a glance at her face showed it calm and unmoved, and surely I, with my man’s strength of will, should control my nerves as well as she. I placed _my arm around her waist and we whirled away. I can never describe my feelings during that waltz. Every drop of blood in my veins seemed like burning lava. My heart beat so quickly and rebelliously that it seemed as though she must hear every throb, but I was determined she should not outdo me in .coolness of appearance, or bear the ordeal braver than I. Once her head inclined forward until it almost touched my breast, and I felt a mad, well-nigh uncontrollable desire to clasp her to my Heart, but I remembered with a pang of the most acute agony that, although my ring was upon the hand which rested upon my arm,we were as widely separated as though the ocean still rolled between us. The music swelled and throbbed wailingly aloft, and we kept on

and on to the wildly beautiful measures. I heard some exclamations of surprise from old acquaintances, but was utterly careless of the world andeverythingexcept the maddening pain at my heart. The music ceased at last, and bowing my thanks A released her, too full to speak; she returned my bow in acknowledgment, and turned with a smile to Phil, who claimed her hand for the next quadrille. It was a pang of genuine jealousy that convulsed my heart as my handsome friend led her away and bent Install head to whisper something in her ear that brought a bright flash to her fair cheek, and I could not but see the* look of admiration in his laugh tag blue eyes as he returned the smile with which she raised her face to his. The air seemed stifling me, and with almost a groan I left the house and went out into the shadow of the seating myself upon the grass I tried to think, but my only intelligible thought was that she loved and was beloved by another and I had lost her forever. I had sat thus some

time when the rustle of a silken robe and a" light footstep near me caused me to look up, and the woman who was once my wife stood before me. For a moment she stood silent, then she broke forth passionately: “Was it not enough that you have been my evil genius, heretofore that you must return now to annoy me? Have you not caused sorrow enough in the past for me that you must come to-night and force yourself upon me, to prove to the world how entirely you forget that we were once man and wife?” “I hare forgotten nothing," I returned, “but believe me, Nonna (my lips unconsciously uttered the old familiar name), believe me, I was not aware of whom Phil McKay was speaking when he offered to give me an introduction to the handsomest lady in the room. lam sorry if it grieved you. I supposed you had forgotten an much “I remember nothing 7 wikh to forget," she replied, coldly, “but for the sake of appearances you will at least please me by ignoring my existence in future. I have no wish to become a liughing stock for my acquaintances." ) t “It shall be as you wish in future,” then ns she was about to turn away, my feelings overcame me and I said, “Will you answer me one question before you go? In view of the relations that once existed between ns I should like to know if you are going to marry Phil McKay?” I knew I had no right to ask this or expect her to answer, but for my life I could not resist the temptation of endeavoring to ascertain whether my conjecture as to existing circumstances was correct or not. For an instant she faced me and even in the moonlight I conld see the angry flash of her eyes and the indignant scorn in her face, and knowing her impetuous temperament I expected an angry outburst, but in a moment she said coldly : . “Roy McDonald, in view of the relations in which we now stand to each other, I am under no obligation to enlighten you as to my affairs, as I presume you are aware. You have ceased to have a controlling interest in my life and consequently have no right to question me. I shall decline to answer,” and without waiting for a reply she returaed to the house.

I had no desire for further merry-making that night, and my sister being willing we soon after returned home. For several days I tried to make myself agreeable to my friends and interest myself in their society, but one face yas before my eyes, but one voice rang in my ears, and, turn which way I would A could not drive my trouble, which had been revived with all the poignancy of its first pain, from my mind. / Thus two weeks passed away and I resolved to again quit my native city and seek forgetfulness in travel. In spite of the indignant remonstrances and expostulations of my friends I made preparations to again depart. I could not bear to remain and see the woman who had been my wife and who now that she was lost to me was tenfold dearer, if possible, than ever before, become the wife of another. The night before I was to take my second leave I was seized by an uncontrollable desire to visit the house that had once bee* my home. It was my own property and was still.standing as we had left it five years before, the furniture untouched save for a periodical airing. With the key in my pocket I Started out. As T neared the familiar spot I lifted my eyes expecting to see the windows darkened, as when I had last looked upon them. Judge, then, of my surprise when I saw a bright light shining from the parlor window. I paused a moment, puzzling over the sight, then I proceeded to investigate. If I had been surprised at seeing the light burning, I was not so much surprised when upon trying the door it yielded readily to the touch, as it was unlocked. I made my way through the hall to "the parlor door, which was partly ajar. I pushed it noiselessly open and paused, dazed with astonishment, for therein her sewing chair by the side of the Well-remembered table sat Norma. Her face was buried in her hands and she was weeping bitterly. I started forward, but at the first step she raised her head, and upon seeing me she arose hastily to her feet and looked at the door as though meditating flight, then she partially recovered herself, and taking a step forward she began speaking, though I noticed that her voice was. not yet quite firm. “Excuse me,” she said, “for my intrusion. I know this house is your property, and I was wrong to come here at all. I will not repeat the offense,” and she seemed about to start, then stopped, and taking a key from her pocket she handed it to me. saying: “Hereis the key; I have had it since you gave it to me when the house was mine.as well as yours. I will now return it to you. ” As she reached her hand toward me I took it in my own, and when she would have withdrawn it I held it closer, and asked. “Why did you come here to-night, Norma?” She did not reply for a moment, then with tears starting from her beautiful eves, she said: ~—

“This is unkind, but I will tell you. I came because here was once my home, here I saw many hours of happiness, here my child was born and died, and—yes I will humiliate myself farther, and say I came because here I looked upon your face last before you passed out of my life; in this very room we were standing when you gave me to understand that you hated me and that your life would be happier without me- I came to look at the old familiar objects as one looks upon the face of a dead friend before tire coffin lid is closed over it forever. Ihave indulged the unaccountable weakness, now I will go,” and she ceased her rapid speech and again tried to release her hand from mine. “Stop, Norma, until I tell you why I came here to-night.” then as she looked up wonderingly, I went on: “I came because it was once your home, because every object was fraught with memory of you and the days when tou were mine, because I could imagine your face pictured in every mirror, and hear your voice in every sound within these walls, because I imagined that? you loved another, and! was going to leave my native land forever to avoid the agony of seeing you another man’s wife, and came to this room to bid farewell to every hope of happiness; in short, sweet wife, because I loved you, do you understand, darling, I love you,” and as her tearful eyes were raised to mine and a smile slowly wreathed the dear libs and the hand that had sought to release itself before nestled in mine, I took her in my arms and the feeling that set my heart throbbing was not this time-one of pain. Long we sat in loving converse; hours passed as we talked over the miserable, unhappy past, and contrite confession of wrong on both sides, when neither sought to screen our own share in the circumstances that had caused the blunder that had brought so much sorrow to us both, and humbly and earnestly made promises of loving forbearance in the future. And when at last 1 spoke of Phil she looked with her dear, truthful eyes into mine, with her arms encircling my n.eck, and said: “As if I could ever have lovedanyone else but you. Why, do vou not know T was your wife just the same,” and I kissed the smiling lips and was content. Years have passed and as I raaermy eyes and see a fair, gracious Norma with her golden-haired i baby upon her knee smiling lovingly, upon > me, I am led to wonder how I could ever , have lived through those miserable five

I years away from her, and all for a moment’s anger. ' . “fc