Ben West did not express all he felt in having to go back to the Klondike, but he had such a pretty, handsome woman for a wife, who pleased him so much and he was so proud of her, and he loved her admiration and approval of himself as much as he did his life. So he decided to return to the Klondike in a month's time. That would give him, in all, three months of honeymoon. Then he would leave for the cold regions of the Klondike.
The last week Ben West was with his wife she seemed at times so sad about his leaving, and would pet him and make so much of him, that she became doubly dear to him. He said, "This is bliss, indeed."
At last the sad day for his parting came. They did the best they could by cheering each other up, with the expectation of Ben's quick return and coming back as a millionaire.
Now, when a handsome young bride is left with an eighty-thousand-dollar house and twenty thousand dollars worth of furniture, three servants, a carriage and a handsome span of horses, two bicycles and an automobile, with a good fat bank account to draw on, she is not going to spend many sad days in the house alone, longing for the return of her husband. Nor will she be contented to remain at home and become fascinated in reading Milton's "Paradise Lost" or Moody's sermons. No. She is going to have company, and gay companions, and they will not be all of her own sex either. About a month after Ben West had returned to the Klondike, Julia had made new acquaintances of persons who had time, money, and elegant leisure. Returning home from a swell party one evening, Julia said to herself, "What freedom there is in being married. Your market is made, and you can have lots of fun dancing, flirting, and so on; while a girl that is unmarried has to be more careful of herself and her conduct, because it might hinder her making a desirable match. It is fine to be married to a good-natured man."
CHAPTER XIV.
FIVE YEARS AFTER MARRIAGE.
It was one of those lovely days in March when nature is decorated in her best; for each day she adds to her wreath of glory new beauties in the form of buds and flowers. The trees in the orchard were a sight to behold in their beautiful and variegated colors. The soft, balmy air coming up the cañon was full of the perfume of flowers. The birds were warbling their sweetest notes in the mulberry and walnut trees, and the hum of the bees were heard around the flowers. All Nature sang through these various forms, that All is life, All is love, All is joy, and All is God.
On this day two ladies were sitting out on the porch of the Herne residence, one was a lady with gray hair, the other was her daughter. Both were sitting in silence. The younger was thinking how very much like this beautiful day was, to the one five years ago when she entered her new home as the wife of Charles Herne. Many thoughts were crowding upon her mind; she was thinking how perfectly, supremely happy she was on that occasion. Every thing about her seemed to respond to the happy thought within, and her cup of joy was overflowing. Then the thought came to her why was it not so to-day? Nature seemed just as beautiful, her home was more beautiful, and the returns from the sale of their fruit each year had exceeded their expectations. Her health was good, she was in harmony with her neighbors, and enjoyed her life among the people in Orangeville. And above all she had experienced the joys of motherhood, having a son two years old, and her husband was just as kind and attentive to her as ever, and yet—and yet—and yet, must she confess, yes, she very reluctantly told her thoughts to her mother to see if she could explain and give her light on those feelings which had come to the surface many a time, only to be suppressed. But they would rise again, and the more they were put down, the more they would rise, till at last she would relieve her mind by telling her mother, who she knew had had more experience.
"Mother," said Clara, "why is it, when everything about me is as good and some things much better than when I was married, and Charles is just as kind, thoughtful, and loving as a husband and father can be, and yet after five years of happy, harmonious life, there is less attraction between us, than when we were first married? Of course, I have never let Charles think that I felt this way, but I noticed that after we had been married two months, Charles' kisses, touches, and pettings did not produce that pleasurable thrill they once did, and it has been growing more and more that way ever since. Why, even when he kisses my hand, it does not produce any more pleasure than if I had kissed my own hand. I remember the time when Charles' kisses used to send an electric thrill of joy through me; the sound of his coming footsteps was a delight which gave me more pleasure than a kiss does now."