A JEALOUS WIFE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8156, 9 June 1906, Page 7

A JEALOUS WIFE.

By P. Woodward Neele.

Miss Elsa Renton sailed on the "Savannah steamer from New Yurk and the next day was seated beside Godfrey Savage at breakfast. They soon thawed the conversational ice, and became quite chummy at luncheon time, when thoy both confessed tc a preference for ioe cream. They discovered a common acquaintance in Mrs Willoughby, of Baltimore, and found, on oorcparing notes as to their travels, that they must have both been at Cape May during the very same week in June of the previous sum - mer. After that it is not surprising that they spent most of the afternoon together. But it was not till dinner was nearly over that Elsa aksed it Mr Savage knew who was tojoccupy the vacant seat on his other s'de. "That." said he, after an imperceptible hesitation, "is reserved"— he looked straight into her eyes—"for Mrs Savage." "Your wife?" "My wife. At present she has not felt well enough to take her meals here." "I did not know you wtre married." "No? You have no objection, I suppose?" He smiled quizzically at her. Edith Savage was a dark, fragile woman; sea-eickness had made her even more frail in appearance than usual. Ten years before,; when she hud married Godfrey Bavage she was a very pretty girl. ' Her husband made her her unhaptiiness. And his output of the latter was largely in excess , ,pf the former. Godfrey was one o£ those gay natures to whom novelty is everything, and after a year or two, secure in his wife's love and adoration, he took no trouble to retain them. They had no children. Mrs Savage retired daily more 'rand more into herself, and Godfrey indulged more and mot©...iin flirtations. Probably quite harmless flirtations, but none the less wearing on his wife, who tidied ilwii best to take them as a joke, and couldn't. For several more days sher unable to leave her berth. •>, .Godfrey looked in frequently to see her. He talked, at first, of Elsa Kenton (btill generally referring to her as amusing), but after a time he never spoke of her. If Edith asked he said she was quite gay. There Is no doubt she was "quite gay," and so was he. In three days they were the talk of the ship. In the long, lazy afternoons he eat at her feet, and read to her as she lay in her chair, and dallied with a bit of fancywork—which never progressed—or gazed idly out to sea. At night they sang together, duets for choice, but when an audi-ence-drifted in, they dritfed out, and sat tugether under the still skies. The red light ot his cigar snone as a beacon, and their retreat was avoided like the plague. At last Edith Savage felt well enough to venture on deck. Godfrey exported her to where Miss Renton reposed in her chair, her dainty feet thrust forward as usual, to show the gay red shoes. He introduced the ladies to one another with a little feeling of restraint, for which he did not try tu account. Mrs Savpge smiled faintly. She felt the strong air confusing, but it brought a tingb of colour fb her cheek. S|ie extended her hand.

Mies Kenton took the band languidly, and diopped it limply. "So pleased to meet you," she murmured, in a Blow, soft, patronizing voice, and allowed the conversation to lapse.

Godfrey spent a bad quarter of an houf trying to think of safe remarks to please both ladies, and then made some excuse and left them, Edith broke the silence that followed.

The two ladies spent a great 1 deal of their time together. Savage always planted their chairs side by side, and his wife scarcely liked to object to the arrangement. She found herself always the unwanted third at these times. Elsa never attempted to be agreeable to members of her own sex—nor disagreeable; she only ignored them. Edith saw how her husband jumped at Elsa's suggestions, echoed her sentiments, and applauded everything she said and did. She saw, too that Elsa saw it, and the knowledge moved her one night to hint to her husband at the folly, at least of his behaviour. "What a storm in a teacup you women make" he said impatiently, and muttered something about "a jealons wife" that stung her into silence. fiat Elsa'"s mean little mind was puffed op with vanity and selfapproval. To have lured a handsome man's affection from his wife, to be the cause of his neglecting her, was to her a triumph. "Poor Godfrey," she reflected, "what a fate; tied to a cold, prim wife! At ary rate, I appr«oiate him."

As they sat together one night—they were nearing the Georgia noasc; it was cold, and Edith had gone to the saloon— Savage was waxing more than üßually indiscreet. Holding both her hands he was leaning forward and whispering that she must be a leal friend 1 to him: he wanted, above all things, sympathy; there v?as a communion of souls; and much more of the haokneyed stuff fluoh situations t call for, when he became unpleasantly aware that they had entered a dense fog. Thick blinding fog,Jwith ev£ry sight shut out, and every sound deadened

Suddenly the fog horn jarred through the boat, and Instantly, as it seemed, came an answering sound, startlingly near. Next moment a sickening crash shivered through the ship and through the heart and braio of every sdul jkboapd. _ Every light went out. Only a horrible grinding was heard, acoompaoiefl by s screams and Voices, all muffled by the fog that hemmed them in.

"Heavens!" cried Savage, "something baa Btruok us." He caught bis wife in his arms, and held her tight to his heart. In the fog they seemed to stand alone. . All was confusion in tne darkness. At last, after what seemed an eternity, a sßilor ran by with a lan tern.

"What is it?" cried Savage, catching his arm. "Collision," replied the man, in a hoarse voice, "and sinking faat. Make for the boats, they're trying to lower thbm." '

"A collision," said Godfrey to his wife, bb though she had not heard, "and we are sinking faat!" He felt unnaturally calm. He even suiiled into the face be could not see as it lay upon his shoulder. In this fearful moment be had not thought for anyone but her. His past life, the past hour, uere gone as a dream; effaced; wiped off. For him sin, folly, intrigue were not. The world was not In such an hour of death, as on the Day of Judgment, the outward Strappings fall from a man; his real self stands bare. The inmost fibres on which his being hangs alone remain. He and this woman were faoing death together. She was bis wife and he loved her.

"My darling," he murmured, kissing her cold face. A moment of silenoe passed, and then Edith raised her head, and nalforl • "Where is Elsa*" "Great Henven!" he uried, "where? I had forgotten her." "He had forgotten her" sang in botb women's ears; and a small, crushed voice said: "lam here." Edith took her hand.

A man ran up—another s«ilor with a lantern. He flashed it on their faces.

"There's room for one more in the boat. Quick, nbw! Who's coming? Don't hesitate; in a minute, God help us, it will be too late!"

He put out his hand to Edith. Godfrey half releasod but she shook off the man's hand, and clung to her husband.

"No, no, I say! Go, Elsa"—and she pushed the girl from her side. Elsa hesitated; the man seized her arm and thefog swallowed her up.

i"Why did you not go?" said Savage, in a broken voice. "What is Elsa to you or me that you should give your life for her?" Edith burst suddenly into a storm of tears.

"Could you part with me so easily?" she wept. "1 could not leave you deares:! 1 was jealous, yes, jealous, as you called me! I could not bear that sbß should die with you." She trembled all over, shaken with, long, shuddering sobs. "Now you are mine, only mine. I'm glad, oh how glad. We are going to die together! It's happiness to know no one can come between as any more." tie guessed dimly at pome of the bitterness that bad been in her heart.

"Forgive me" he said pressing his lips on her hair; "forgive me. [ a*n yours only—in death and in the world to come!" They spoke no more. The fog lifted suddenly, and a pale moon looked down upon the swirling water where a ship had sunk.