The Story Teller.

Wairoa Bell, Volume IV, Issue 158, 12 August 1892, Page 8

The Story Teller.

A VvQULD'BE SUICIDE

She had promised him that she would mend the lining of his overcoat if he would wear another and leave that at home. And bo, as lie left it, she took it from the hall and carried it into her work-room.

Her name was Eve Wilton, and she had been married five years and never —never — never in all that time had one unhappy mo ment. Mr Wilton had been very attentive, very kind, very generous, and had never made her jealous. A lie oi’ten said that she was the happiest woman living, Now, as she looked at the lining and compared the silk with which she was about to replace the torn portion, she was thinking these thoughts. They had never had any children, but when people are all in ail to each other that is no very great grief. All her care was for him—all his for her.

4 And he is just the dearest, best, truest fellow in the world,’ said Eve to herself. ‘l’m not half good enough for him. 1 wonder what this is in his pocket ? it bulges it- all out of shape,’ She put her hand into the breast pocket as she spoke and drew out a little package wrapped iu paper and up tied with blue ribbon.

‘ Something lie has bought for me, I expect,’ said Eve. ‘ I wonder what it is ? 1 think that I won’t open it until he comes home ’

She laid the silk across the hole, cut it out, and basted it down. • I wonder what, it is said she. 4 Tom did mean to get me an opera glass, 1 know ; but that is not the shape of the parcel. It isn’t at all like a book. It might be lace wound on a cord—real lace.’ She looked at the package again. •I do wonder what it'is ?’ said she ; and then hemmed the patch down, ‘ There wasn’t much to mend, after all. I thought the tear much longer. He caught it on a nail in the office, I know. Now I do wonder what is in that package ?’ Eve put the coat over a chair and took up the parcel. 4 Tom won’t mind,’ she said. 4 I will just take a peep. I’m sure it’s for me.’ Then she undid the ribbon, unfolded the paper and saw letters. • Dear Tom ! He keeps my letters next his heart and he has never tolcl me.’ But the writing was not hers, she saw that at a glance. • His mother’s letters,’ she said. 4 He loved Jiis mother so !’

Then she began to tremble a little, for the letters did "not begin with 4 My dear son,’ nor with anything like it. She cast her eyes over them. They were love letteis. ‘ Tom has loved some other woman before he met me,’ she said, beginning to cry. 4 Oh what shall I do ?’ Then she cried out, 4 Oh foolish, foolish creature that I am ! Of course she died, and he only loves me now. It was all over before we met. I must not mind.’

But here she paused, gave a scream, and then threw the letter from her as though it had been a serpent and had bitten her. It was dated in the previous week. It was not four days old. 4 Oh!oh! oh !’ cried Eve. 4 Oh, what shall I do ? Oh, where shall Igo ?’ At every cry a thought pierced her breast like a stab.

4 Tom, my Tom ! What shall Ido? Tom! Tom! He to he false—Tom! Oh, I have gone mad ! No ! There they are! They are really there—those letters ! Why do I not die? Ho people live through things as these ?’ Then she knelt down cm the floor and gathered up the letters and steadily read them through, There were ten of them. Such love letters ! No other interpretation could be put upon them. They were absurd love-letters —such as are always ■produced in court in cases of breach of promise. And they called him 4 Popsy Wopsy,’ 4 Darling Palling, ‘Lovey Dovey,’ * Own Sweetness,’ and 4 Angel of my Soul,’ and they were all signed, 4 Ycur own Nellie,’ 4 It is all true ! ’ said poor Eve. wringing her hands. ‘ And it is worse than anything that I ever heard of. I trusted him so, I believed in him so. My Tom —mine! ’ Then she wiped her eyes, gathered up the letters, wrapped tue silver paper about them, tied the blue ribbon, and put them

back in the awful breast pocket of that dreadful overcoat and hung it up in the hall again. 4 Tom shall never know,’ she said. 4 I’ll not reproach him. I will never see him again ; when he conies home I shall be dead. I will not live to bear this.’

Then she began to think over the bestmeans of suicide. She could hang herself to the chandelier with a window-blind cord ; but then she would be black in the face and hideous. She would drown herself ; but then her body would go floating down the river into the sea ; and drowned people looked even worse than strangled ones. She was too much afraid of firearms to shoot herself, even in this strait. She would take poison, Yes, that would be best ; and though she could never see Tom again, he would see her, and remorse would sting him. Here she made a great mistake. A man who is coolly treacherous to women never has any remorse. Remorse in love affairs is a purely feminine quality, and even the worst of the sex are not without it. However it is natural to believe that remorse is posshT- to a man whom one has believed to be “ angel in human form, and Eve took a little miserable comfort in the thought that Tom would kneel beside her coffin and burst into tears and passionate exclamations of regret, which she perhaps might, see from some spiritual post of observation.

So, having put on a hat and thick veil, Eve betook herself to the nearest druggist’s sin p . The druggist was an old German ; a ocjl.oVO.i iookmg oue, with red cheeks and. a smiling mouth ; and when she asked for poison for rats he said 4 So ! ’ and beamed mildly upon her. 4 I want it very? strong,’ said Eve. '■ So ! ’ said the druggist, 4 But not to give more pain than is necessary nor turn the face black.’ said Eve. With n. grave face he compounded a powder and handed it across the counter. Eve took it, gave him the few pence he asked, and walked off. Once at home she went, straight to her room, undressed herself and retired to bed, taking the powder with her. Once or twice she tasted it with the tip of her tongue, hoping that it was not very disagreeable. Then, finding it sweet she bravely swallowed it. 4 It. is over,’ she said. 4 Oh, Heaven forgive me and forgive Tom ! ’ And then she laid herself down upon her pillow. Just as she did so the familiar sound of a latch-key in the door below startled her. Tom never came home at noon, but there he was now. No one else but Tom would walk in in that cool way, and he was calling ner. 4 Eve—Eve—Eve —where are you ?’ Never before bad she refused to answer that voice. Why had he come to torture her dying moments ? Hark ! Now he was bounding upstairs. He was in the room. • What is the matter ? Are you ill, Eve ?’ 4 No,’ said she, faintly. 4 Only tired.’ Ah ! You look tired, little one,’ said he. 4 I came home to get the overcoat. I suppose you have found out by this time that the coat in the hall is not mine, I wore Johnson’s home from the office last night by mistake ; he is anxious about it. He asked me if there was anyone in the house who was likely to meddle with papers in his pockets, I said that I thought not. I had’nt a jealous vyife—eh! What’s the matter, Eve ?’ 4 Oh, Tom!’ she cried hysterically. 4 Oh say it again ! It was not your coat ? Oh Tom, kiss me.’ 4 Why, what is the matter ?’ cried out Tom. 4 You must be ill.’ Then Eve remembered all.

4 lam a wicked woman, Tom ! There were letters in the pocket—love letters. I read them. 1 thought you were false to me. I—l took poison, Tom. lam going to die—and I long to live so. Oh, Tom, Torn, save me !’

4 Yes, yes,’ he cried, 4 Oh, good Heaven ! What poison ?’ 4 Hoffman will know, I bought it off him. Perhaps he can save me,’ cried Eve. Away went Tom, white as death, to the druggist around the corner. lie burst into the shop like a whirlwind. 4 The lady !’ he gasped. 4 The lady who bought poison here an hour ago ! tSbe took it by mistake ! Can you save her? Is there an antidote ? She is dying !’ * No, no !’ said the old German. 1 Bo calm ! Be at rest ! No, no ! She cannot die of dat ! When a lady asks me for poison dat will not turn a rat black in de face, J

say to myself, 4 So !’ I sbmells somesing ; and I give her in de paper a little sugar and somesiugs. She con'd take a pound. Go home and tell her so. I never sells poisons to women dat cry and say dey do not want She rat to become black m de face. So—be calm !’ So Tom flew home again and Eve rejoiced and hearing that Johnson was a bachelor who admitted himself to be engaged,she did not rip off the patch as she had at first intended to do.