Luke's wife

by Evelyn R. Garratt

"Oh well don't worry now any more about this," he said. "It will all be the same a hundred years hence." Then he added with forced cheerfulness, "It's no use crying over spilt milk. The thing is done and it can't be helped; and I know it has been done in kindness. Cheer up dear."

As he left the room Rachel sat down on the sofa. His last words had stung her.

"Done in kindness!" Why it had been done in the warmth of passionate love. She had braved the rain coming down in torrents, and had overtired herself just because she wanted to save him pain and to give him pleasure. And he had spoken coldly of kindness! She could scarcely bear it. Yet her pride was too much touched at the moment to allow of tears to come. For the first time she was sitting in judgment on her husband. Her idol had fallen from his throne. Had he been what she had fancied him to be he would never have allowed her to know all that his disappointment meant to him; and she could have borne it; but now the lack of gratitude on his part for her efforts, mistaken though they had been, struck her as astonishingly unlike the Luke of her dreams. It made her feel almost indignant. She felt sure his mother's influence was at the back of it. All her own tender feelings had disappeared. A cold pride had taken their place, and unconscious of any emotion she made her way upstairs to get ready for Church. She did not hurry, and when Luke called out that they ought to be starting as it was getting late, she told him not to wait for her. It was the first time they had not walked to evening service together.

Rachel had promised the girls that she would sit with them in the choir and lead the singing. She was astonished to find herself walking calmly up the aisle and taking her place in the Choir benches.

The singing went exceedingly well. The girls had good strong voices, and Rachel's voice, of which the congregation had been in ignorance, filled the Church. Now and then Luke found himself wondering to whom the sweet and full voice belonged, and it was only toward the end of the service that he discovered that it belonged to his wife.

THE MISTRESS HAD GONE TO BED WITH A HEADACHE,

POLLY INFORMED HIM.

He made no allusion to the absence of the men in his sermon; but when the service was over and most of the congregation had gone, he thanked the girls for their help. But Rachel was not there. She did not wait to walk home with him.