LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2386, 25 November 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE FIRST QUARREL. * Then Ralph, you thick aa I do, that we must never, never have a first quarrel ? ’ * Never Rose, there is nothing easier than to live without it.’ • Yet they do say that married people are always sure to quarrel some time.’ * Yob, and they do say my darling that engaged people sre sure to quarrel a great deal. But haven’t we proved it falsa in our case? ’ •Oh Ralph, it is because we have loved each other too truly, to even think of such a thing.’ • Of oonrto it le, little one,’ drawing the golden head down to his breast, ‘and that is just why we shall never quarrel. How could wo aver speak a harsh word to each other, dearest ? ’ There was no audible answer, but a subdued sound aa of tender caressing filling up the interval. Ralph Maynard and Rose Clark were to be united for better or worse on the morrow. Aa we have seen, they fondly believed that no cloud could ever overcast their wedded sky. Three months after marriage and the sun was setting upon as charming a little scene as could well be imagined. A pretty white cottage, with low windows and rommtic porticDS overlooking a velvety green lawn ; the windows of the dining room stand open, and the fragrant breath of Juno roses from without waa rivalled by the tasteful bouquets which stood in crystal vases upon the table ; the snow white damask, cut glass and shining silver caught the last rays of the sun as they flitted over the dainty tea table, now sparkling in the crimson heart of a jelly, now lingering in the golden meshes of Rose Maynard’s hair, aa she poured out a cup of fragrant tea for her young husband. Three months, and all was perfect happiness. Bose waa thinking this as she poured out the tea, with a little smile upon her Ups. 4 Rose! ’

She looked up quickly, surely there wes a slight —just the slightest—shade of constraint or coldness in the tone.

‘Eos?,’ repeated her husband, evidently a little embarrassed, * as I rode down to the office this afternoon, I heard some comments upon your friend, Mrs Elton, which didn’t please me very well. I wish,’ in a slower tone, ‘ that you would drop her acquaintance, my love.’ 1 Why, Ralph, what can yon mean ?’ with a deep flush rising to her cheek. * I would do anything for you, Ralph,’ she added, * but how terribly unjust it would be to drop my best friend because some people don’t choose to like her.’

‘ I am afraid they have good reasons for it, dear; in fact, I never liked her myself, though 1 did not like to tell you so. She is too much of a flirt for me to wish to sea her the intimate friend of my wife.’ ‘ She is splendid, I don’t care what people B'ly, and I am ashamed of you, Ralph, for helping to abuse a woman’s character—and that woman my best friend, too.’ And down dropped Rose’s knife and fork, and up went the dainty handkerchief to the bright blue eyes, which had suddenly filled with tears, Ibis was too much for Ralph. He came to her aide, and kissed away the first tears he had ever seen in his wife’s pretty eyes. ‘Como, come, darling! remember wo are never to quarrel. But I do hope, Bose, that you will think seriously over what I have said. ’

Rote said nothing, but clung to her husband as though they had just been snatched from a precipice and she could hardly realise their safety. To think that he, Ralph, had actually disapproved of her. The evening passed lovingly, as usual, but poor Hose felt thoughtful —almost sad. That she must either hurt the feelings of her dearest friend, without any good cause, as she believed, cr displease her own darling husband, she saw was unavoidable; and to her loyal, loving nature, to do either seemed impossible. She would do all she could, however, to please her husband without offending her friend. Ah 1 little wife, what a difficult position to sustain! But for a week she managed it. When the charming little woman dropped in to call, which she did, unceremoniously, at all times. Rose always contrived to be so busy that she could not possibly go out. Whether it was a handkerchief for Ralph, a pincushion for * dear mamma ’ or a new piece to practice, it was always sure to be too important to be neglected. ‘Why, what has come over yon, Pose?’ cried Mrs Elton one day, rather suspiciously, ‘ yon have not been out with me for a week. Are you going to keep this up for ever ? ’ ‘I don’t know, I’m sure,’ replied Rose, laughing, and inwardly wondering how she could excuse herself much longer ; ‘ but I really find so much to do. If your husband were at home, Maude, yon would not have so muoh leisure yourself.’ ‘Then I’m heartilyglad ho isn’t,’said Mrs Elton, pouting ; ‘ for I never could stay in as you do, little i’un,’ But when Ralph came home that evening he agoin referred to the rumors concerning Mrs Elton ; she was carrying on a serious flirtation with a well known society man whose reputation was anything but pure. ‘People are simply mistaken,’said Rose, with dignity ; ‘she no more flirts with him than she does with you. I have seen them together.’ ‘ Well, I shouldn’t like you to amuse yourself in my absence as she does in the absence of her husband. ’

‘ Haven’t you any confidence in your wife, Ralph ?’ ‘ Certainly; but who can tell what an influence she may acquire over you? At all events, darling, 1 very gently, 1 you must find some way of discontinuing her acquaintance at once. ’

•Ralph! Must?’ • Yes, my dear, must!’ This time with quite a matrimonial air of firmness. The bright bine eyes of his wife flashed in surprise and anger. That little word from Ralph’s lips caused as much commotion In Rose’s mind as the 4 big, big D ’ from the captain of the 4 Pinafore’ raised among his orew.

That evening was passed almost in silence, and there was no good night kiss.

In the morning Roto was all ready to forgive, bat Ralph was cold and diitant, and did not seem to wish it. Immediately after breakfast he went down town, after leaving the faintest possible kiss upon his wife’s trouhlod brow.

He raw the trouble, but pride was at work, so he went away, leaving his perplexed bride in just the right state of mind to fall an easy victim to the tempter. She was angry with her husbend for daring to dislike her friend, and angry with that friend for being the can so of coldness between her and her husband.

But when that pretty, charming friend came rushing in early in the afternoon, all smiles and dimples, and, finding Rose Maynard doing absolutely nothing but moping, insisted upon taking her for a drivo—what could she do.

She had no excuse, and then Ralph’s coldness of the morning camo forcibly into her mind. So in desperation she donned her prettiest costume, and called up all her gaiety to hide her aching heart. But, to her astonishment, they had not gone far before Mrs Elton picked up Mr A., the gentleman with whore name her own was so disagreeably connected, who accompanied them during the whole drive. They met many of their friends, and Rose’s cheek flashed as shd noted their cool greetings, and thought of the rumours afloat. A week ago she would have thought nothing of It ; but In the light of her husband's words, this chance meeting with Mr A. looked like a studied appointment. * Ralph is right,' she decided mentally, ‘ and I will tell him so to-night ’

The pretty tea table was awaiting Ralph’s coming, and so was the sweet little wife all smiles and happiness once more. She intended to meet him with the old fond kiss, and confess that she had been wrong. How pleased Ralph would he ! Instead of Ralph, .however, came a brief note—- ‘ Rose, I shall not bo home to-night. I saw you driving with that precious pair who are this evening the talk of the whole town. And to think my wife’s name is mixed up with it! I feel too hurt and angry to meet yon just yet. ‘Ralph.’

There was only one thing a woman like Rose could do In such a case. She fainted. When at last she recovered consciousness she saw plainly in the face of the servant who had come to her assistance that she had read the note and was acquainted with her disgrace. Dismissing her, Rose left the untouched supper to its fate, and dragging herself upon the bed, and between her sobs tried to form some plan of action. Oh how bitterly she now thought of both friend and husband I

Only three months married, and it had already come to this 1 Proud and sensitive, ths determined that ehe would remain no longer beneath his roof to bring discredit upon it; so when morning dawned, and Ralph, already repentant and remorseful for his cruelty’, returned, he found no wife to welcome him. Only a few words to tell that she had gone for ever. Oh, the agony of that hour ! How freely would he have forgiven a thousand offences, only to hold that dear form in his arms oaca more 1

He sat down and thought of thesweot face, the claar blue eyes, and golden hair, until thinking almost drove him wild, but it was too late.

Why tell of the fruitless search, the lonely days, the final settling down into an almost utter despair. He could only faintly try to keep up his hopes by thinking tbit she loved him too well to stay away frem him for ever.

But two years pas-ed, and Rose Maynard had never visited their home.

Eight in Chicago! lights ere blazing everywhere in the heart of the brilliant Western city, and crowds are jostling each other in their haste to reach their various destinations.

A young mm, tall and fine looking, has jiststojpei at the busiest corner of Stite street, undecided which way to turn next. He is handsome, but his face looks sad, and he has a way of glancing sharply into women’s faces which seems strangely out of keeping with his qniet, gentlemanly bearing. I! a one of these gay groups passes him, he hoars the name of ‘ Lotta' mentioned as playing at MoVicker’s. * Latta !’ ho repeated to himself, a slight expression of interest flashing into hio pale face. •It is a long time since I have seen her, and it will serve to brighten an hour or so of life, at least. It is but a step,’ glancing at the blazing theatre so near him. * Ye?,’ ho added, * I may as well be in the theatre as in the street. I shall never find her.’

A tigh escaped him as he turned down Madison and followed In the wake of the pleasure seekers. He was just about to eater the theatre, standing in the full radiance streaming from the open portals, when a low cry beside him made him quickly turn. A woman had fallen, fainting almost at his feet.

Ho lifted her in his arms, bat the first glance into her white, still face almost caused him to drop his burden and sink down beside it.

• Eose, Eoso I My God ! is she dead ?’ he muttered excitedly, under his breath, for the crowd was pressing around them.

He was offered assistance, and carried her into the nearest place that be could find, where she soon revived. Both being proud and sensitive, however, they succeeded in repressing their emotions until they were alone together In the carriage which Ealph had called. dhen the scene which followed can bo better imagined than described. Eose, with her go’.dea head upon his shoulder, told how she had awaited his coming with blissful thoughts of reconciliation in her mind ; how his note had made her feel that he thought that his wife had disgraced him, and how, wild with shame and anger at the thought, she had flown to Chicago, where she supposed she had an uncle living. Going to his old address she found that he had removed, nor could she find any trace of him. Therefore, too proud to return to the homo which she had deserted, she obtained employment as a seamstress, and was returning late from her work when she caught sight of his face in the brilliant glare from the theatre. The sudden vision was too much, and she fell, dying as she thought, at his feet.

‘ Would you never have come home If I had not found you, Eose ? ’ ‘ I believe I never should ; I thought myself disgraced, and the more so after I had reflected upon what people might say of my flight.’ * They all knew that I was nearly heartbroken at your loss,’ said Ealph, with grave tenderness; then after a little pause he added —‘ Have you never heard of Maud Efton since you left ? ’ ‘Never,’ with a slight shudder ; ‘what became of her ? ’

‘ Sae eloped with A- only a week after you eloped with yourself.’ said Ralph, with a little attempt at playfulness. • Their doubtful relations were on every tongue that very day you were out with them, and that is why—- ‘ Yea,’ said Rose, putting her ;hand over his lips, * but don’t say it; I want to forget that day for ever.’ ‘And so you shall, my darling.’ ‘ Ralph, I have something else to tell you,’ whispered Rose, almost timidly, as she laid her soft cheek against her husband’s. ‘Well, little one, what Is 1c ?’stroking the golden hair as if she were a child. ’Ah ! yon must wait until we get homo ’ They entered the boarding-house together, and after a brief explanation to the landlady Rose took him to her room, where lay a little white.robed cherub, smiling in its happy sleep. No wonder the tears sprang quickly to his eyes. ‘ Oh, Rose, Bose,' was all he could say, as he bent to kiss his child. The old home smiled just as of old in the sunset light as, on the first evening of their arrival, husband, wife, and child were gathered around the tea-table. ‘ Oh, Ralph ! ’ cried Rose, her eyes filling with tears, ‘ how natural it all looks I As I sit here, I could almost fancy that I had never been away.’ ‘Yes, dear,’ said Ralph with a sly smilo, 1 the only difference is the baby.’ ‘ And a bettor understanding of each other,’ said Rose Maynard, thoughtfully ; then she added with a smile, ‘ And to think, Ralph, how firmly we believed ourselves to be the only married couple in the world who could live without a first quarrel.’ * I think It was a blessing in difguise, thongh, darling, for it proved so terrible that it will certainly bo our last,’ And so it was.