Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 35, Number 179, 5 May 1910 — Page 2

OMANCE had never ceased to play a part and a large one in the career of Edith Gordon. The one regret of her life was that John Gordon, her husband, had become so intensely practical. It, had been "Jack" in those days when the blood burned and the heart was prodigal' with . vows and protestations ; but that time was long past, and the erstwhile dashing "Jack" .had developed into the stout, somewhat prosaic, entirely unromantic " John," a man eminently unsuited to play Romeo to Edith's ; Juliet V Edith herself had not stood still outwardlywith the advancing years. While, of course, the freshness of youth no longer shone in her face, the classic features, about which M Jack" had been wont to rave, but which "John" viewed now with such complacency, had been ' left unravaged by the course of time. The gloss and heen were gone, from the abundant chestnut hair . that waved above her sweet low brow, but the soft light of the somewhat premature gray crown of advancing years ; provided a substitute scarcely less charming. Her figure, too, was not quite what it had been. The fulness of a ripe Edith thought sometimes with dismay that it was aripening development of womanhood had 'Overwhelmed the slender curves of girlhood; but the result was still satisfactory, especially when aided by those mysterious devices by which feminine humanity successfully conceals the overloading tendency of aging flesh. No greater insult could have been offered Edith Cordon than to have said that she was getting " fat." ' No one in the house said it, either, although ill-natured people outside" sometimes did not refrain from such ' "slander and evil speaking " ; but Edith's heart was as young, as fresh, as verdant; her mind as imaginative, as subtly apprehensive of the mysterious, the beautiful, the herpic, as it had been when she was a girl. In that sort of development she had stood still. It was a never-ending source of grief to her that John she hated that name, and never called him that except in 1 public; in private it was often "Jack darl," or something else equally affectionate that John was so changed, so , unresponsive, so unromantic. Why, he had actually declared that he would rather be comfortable in his clothes than look well in them any day of the year! That he didn't really care enough about growing stout to diet himself! 'That nothing on earth would induce him to "bant," and as for exercise, he abhorred it! He was never so happy as in a shabby old dressing gown and a disreputable pair of his slippers, by his own fireside, with Edith, more beautiful than ever, he averred and with truth, too in his eye, opposite him, and the, children of this singular pair, six in number, clustered around them. - But, after all, John was a good sort of a man. He was the best of husbands and absurdly devoted to Edith in his own quiet way. He really never left her if he could help it, When he went away from the city on business he always took her with him. He delighted to see her beautifully dressed, and while he sometimes mocked, he inwardly approved of all her efforts to maintain and retain the charms which had won him to her affections so many years before. But he wasn't demonstrative. No contfeegencics that could arise would prevent him from 'eating his dinner) Edith was furiously jealous at times .of the. children, who moiled and toiled about him and over. him, and to whom he frequently addressed those pet names and endearing terms which she. had once ' thought were her own peculiar property. ,- diii aiic ire iiiu tire auguvcsi cuauix vu uc jcaiuus ui anyone else. I She sometimes wished that he would give ' her an opportunity to rise out of the placid humdrum :, consciousness of his steady affection; and in more darmg flights of imagination, she frequently wished that in some way. without doing anything wrong or compromising herself in any way, she could make John ragingly jealous, see him lose a meal or two and get thin. But nothing happened. She often thought, with a sigh, that all the romance of her life was past; there was nothing before her but to live on in this contented, peaceful, uneventful way until the end. If Edith had had a wider experience of life and husbands she would have - known that the was blessed almost above all women. her requirements. He never consciously forgot an anSlhrwary. There were more anniversaries in Edith's

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calendar, too, than Saints' Days in the Church year. Long ago John had learned manfully to face the consequences of those frightful lapses of memory - which confronted him in the presence of Edith wrth this question trembling upon her lips: "John Gordon, do you know what day this is? ',' When Edith asked that question she was not seeking information as to the day of the week. ; She wanted John to remember that it was on such a day as this that he had first met her at so-and-so's house. .She wanted John to remember every detail of that meeting which her own marvelous imaginative faculties could reproduce with absolute accuracy. Everything that ever happened, that was connected with their courtship and early life, was an anniversary, and John really remembered them remarkably well He was a very busy man. He had a great many cares. The needs of his growing family were sufficient to require his undivided attention. Once in a while he forgot, but not often. During a -crisis in his business, which had filled him with apprehension, on a certain morning Edith came down to breakfast arrayed with extraordinary bravery. She wore a new shirtwaist of the color and style which John affected. In the center of the table was a great bunch of chrysanthemums, flowers associated with their wedding day, which had happened to fall a few days after Edith's twenty-second birthday. She had made an heroic resolution before she descended to the dining-

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room that she would not call John's attention to the fact that that day was her birthday in words, that is ; but she had been unable to restrain herself from indicating in some way the festive character of the day. Not that it was particularly . festive for Edith, either, for . no .woman approaches her fortieth birthday with feelings of equanimity; but that would not matter. to John, who was accustomed to. say that the older he got the happier he was ; and he, at least, ought to rise to the occasion. And John had risen to the occasion, too. The birthday was one of the things he had not forgotten. He had provided her liberally,, in accordance with his means, with the jewels which looked so prcttty upon her beautiful hands, and he had decided to add to her already large collection what she had long coveted, a pearl. A fine specimen which he had purchased the night before, at that very moment lay in his pocket. But John gave no outward sign. The Stock Market was in a feverish condition, and he buried himself in the paper the moment he sat down. John and Edith breakfasted alone with Will- . Jam. The other children had their breakfast earlier and had gone to school when these two came down. William was the youngest He was "goin" on four," as he proudly said, which meant that he had just passed his third birthday. He was an observant young man. Noth- : ing out of the common escaped his youthful eye. " Mama," he. said at last, "why are you all dressed

His father, who was turning the paper at that momerit, fortunately caught this remark and looked over at his wife. "Well, Edith, I must say that you look very well indeed this morning, my dear, What's the occasion?" Edith blushed violently and her heart throbbed in spite of herself at the question. She temporized, however. The possibilities of the situation were so great that she wanted to enjoy them a .little longer. Instead of the usual retort, . . -u " John Gordon, don't you know what day it is ? " she ; replied lamely enough, " Why er nothing particular." "And the flowers, too," said John; "they're 'gorgeous! They always remind me of our wedding day," he added swiftly, knowing that this was an exceedingly safe remark to make ; and then will it , be believed ? the odious man calmlj went tack to his paper and coffee, Edith stopped eating at once and stared at him in silence. Could it be possible? He had forgotten many things, but never her birthday! William came to the rescue. -. . . . , " Why Jon't you eat your breakfast, mama ?" he remarked- " Again this caught the attention of John. "What's the matter, Edith?" he said. "Aren't you well?" " Who, I ? Perfectly well," returned Edith with rising indignation, immediately beginning to attack her waffle

it's her birthday and papa didn't remember. furiously, although every mouthful choked her. John had finished his breakfast He excused himself, rose from the table, caught William's chubby face in his two hands, and, after carefully wiping the fringe of molasses from around his mouth, pressed a Ions, exuberant kiss upon the baby face; then he stepped over to Edith, laid his hand upon her shoulder, turned her cheek up to him, kissed her softly, in what, it must be admitted, was rather a matter-of-fact manner, and weut out. Edith heard the? door close behind him. It was too much. She rose from the table, unheeding the baby's protests he objected very, much to being left alone and ran upstairs to her room." She shut the door, threw v herself face downward on the bed and sobbed out her grief and disappointment in an agony of tears. "William, though he did not like solitude, disliked emptiness the more. He stayed at the table until, with the assistance of the maid, he had disposed of a wonderful quantity of waffles, there being no mama present to interdict his consumption; then he clambered up the stairs, opened the door of his mother's room and-entered. . , . "What's the matter, mama? he said; "why are you coin'?; ' V- " Oh, 'William, my precious baby, mama's only comfort ! " wailed Edith, stretching oat her arms toward the chubby boy, "come here to. me, my little so.i. Mama is So miserable. It's her birthday, and and papa didn't remember. Mama is forty years old to-day that's bad . COPYRIGHT.

enough. She's so lomesome, sox unhappy! No one even wished her many happy returns.' "I'll do it, mama," said William, getting up on the bed and nestling down by her. a Won't you have a birfday cake wiv cannels on it. like I did ? " "No, nothing, nothing! Nobody cares for mama's birthday. . She's an old woman now ! So lonesome, her heart's' broken !" "Won't papa give you somethin'?" "He's forgotten : all ' about it, darling. He doesn't care any more." - Edith was so absorbed in her grief, and William was so absorbed in Edith, that they did not hear the hall door open. They did not mark' John's rather heavy tread upon the stairs, consequently they were both greatly surprised when the door opened and he stood before them, an expression of amazement on his face t the sight of the two figures, for the contagion of his mother's misery had been too much for the susceptible infant, and while she was sobbing softly he was roaring with all the vociferousness of childhood. r " Why, Edith ! Why, William ! " cried John in astonishment, " what's the matter? " At the sound of his voice Edith sat up, a flash of hope pervading her being. He had remembered, then, and had come back ! - All would be well. But his first words undeceived her. " I left those vouchers I was examining last ' night,"

continued John, " and I came back for them. I find you in tears. My dear girl, what is the matter?" John was unconsciously adroit. Edith loved to be called his " dear girl " and John knew it This time, however, the words did not mollify her. Since he did not know, she resolved he never should. She determined that hereafter her birthday should pass by unnoticed.1 She felt the luxury of martyrdom stealing over her, which was some compensation for her misery. Shedried her tears as best she could and looked disdainfully and coldly at her anxious husband. "Nothing, nothing at all," she said. " Dere is, too," said young William sturdily. '".William!" said Edith, sharply. " I forbid you to speak! Don't say a word ! " Generally John did not interfere between Edith and . the children. This time he broke that wise rule. He , drew a nickel from his pocket "BiH," he said, holding up the coin, "pome here" . - In- a second that infant was in his arms, his face sinning through his tears. "What's the matter with mama, William?" asked John. " Willie, dear," cried his mother" imploringly, but the allurement of the nickel was too great even for his filial affection. " Papa, don't you know what day it if? " asked the ; smiling: William. " ' - :

"Great Heavens!" thought John m consternation, "have the children begun to ask that infernal question too?". He racked his brains for a possible neglected an niversary. "Well, what day is it?" he asked. "Why, it's mama's birfday," said William, triumphantly. John turned open-mouthed to Edith. She had risen and was confronting him like an angry goddess. The flash of indignation upon her cheek, the tear that sparkled in her eye and Edith was one of the few women who look pretty in tears made her fairly adorable. He thought she had never appeared more charming, even when she was only sixteen. For an instant his admiration shone in his glance, and the unerring Edith was quick to detect it There was an opportunity for him to get into her good graces once more. Alas t Nemesis must have been guiding him, for what did John do? His admiration faded into an expression of amusement. He snickered, he chuckled, he laughed. H sank down in the nearest chair and roared- Edith had never been so furiously angry before. This was adding Insult to injurv As soon as she could make herself heard, she began. " For my part, John Gordon, I see nothing about which to laugh. You have forgotten my birthday, a thing you have never done since we have been married. I dressed myself to please you, put those chrysanthemums on the table because they reminded you always of our wedding day and my birthday. I had the break" fast you liked, too and and you never noticed any tfiinorf Tf it hadn't hm far the hahv vnn wouldn't hav

. va, v y - known whether I was dressed or not I even forgot my prejudice and ordered that horrid, vulgar liver and bacon a combination I detest 'for you especially. I don't believe you even knew what you were eating! And then, when you came back, I thought you had remembered and had come to wish me many happy return and and" , dui, my uear -caiui : . " ' "Don't say a word! I never was so unhappy m' ray life! It is quite evident that you .do not care for me now that I am getting old. All you think of is comfort, comfort and your children. And I'm forty and married to a man who has ceased to love me at all It's bad enough to be forty without being so neglected arid so lonesome I ' Here Edith put her head down in her hands and began to cry again. John was sober enough now, al- - . - - . . i ... .-j though the remains of his amusement1 were plainly - , visible. It was William Who broke in. " Papa, you're bad to my mama; I don't love yori any more." ' " " William," said John, gravely, " ask mama the date of her birthday." . 1 , . ..-. ti,, ...r (...(..! m ,.i1j tr "he can't even -remember the date. It's November 5th,' .. if you will have it! " "I thought so!" said John, "and Edith, 'my dearest wife, do you realize that to-day is the third of. November, and your birthday isn't until day after to-morrow." ''John Gordon, you are deceiving me! It's one of your ways of getting out" . v "Look at the calendar, my dear," said John. " You see?" -- Poor Edith! She was certainly two days ahead. She stood looking at John in hopeless dismay. John was making a herculean effort to restrain his mirth, but it was impossible. J Edith didn't know whether to continue weeping or join in his laughter, it was all so fearfully unromantic , William also was waiting to see which way' the wind was blowing. . Finally Edith caught the infec-" tion of her husband's humor and joined m his glee. William's high-pitched staccato trill made an appropriate obligato for the merry conjugal duet 1 "Well, now the thing has come out," said John, in his matter-of-fact way, feeling in his waistcoat pocket, "since you have arranged this day for your birthday, I might as well give you the present I was keeping for you," , handing her a little packet With eager fingers she tore it open, disclosing the radiant pearL There wait little slip of paper enclosed in the golden circlet of the ring. " Read it," said John. . To Edith, pearl among teivet. From her lover and husband." Yes, and the name signed to it was not "John,-bat "Jack," and there he stood, fat, unromantic, rather in- : different as to dress, blushing like a girL ' Edith flung her arms around his neck, kissed htm enthusiastically, then held him at arm's length. - "John Gordon," she said, severely, "you are really too provoking ! . How unromantic of you! i Now yon have gone and spoiled my birthday by giving me ray present to-day ! " -