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Newspaper Page Text
CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
ELEANOR FAIRLOW IS DEAD
I had not had time to say anything
to my little nurse and after Jim and
Dick went away I looked at her in
quiringly. She did not say" anything
and I decided that she had not yet
made up her mind. I thought long
about what both Jim and Dick had
said and again Dick's changed ex
pression rose before me.
I compared Dick as he looked to
night with the Dick I had known up
to that time, and decided they were
Was the comfort and the affection
and the content of married life com
ing to me just when I was not going
to be able to take them?
I who had always believed so im
plicitly in the law of compensation
tried to think what I had done to
merit this terrible illness of both
mind and body. True, some might
say I had taken Dick from Eleanor
Pairlow when he had married me in
stead of her, but you see, little book,
I did not know there was an Eleanor
Pairlow until after I had married
Dick. And just here, as though I had
called her from oblivion by my
thoughts of her, I was handed a tel
egram. It read:
"Eleanor died this morning from
appendicitis. She has not been well
since she came to me and her last
words were: 'I am glad to go.' Will
write particulars. Notify her friends.
Mrs. Caroline Hume."
Poor Eleanor! Her lot was not a
very happy one and she certainly
paid for all her sins, all her follies,
all her mistakes.
"How shall I tell this to Dick?" I
asked myself. Eleanor must have
asked to have the telegram sent me.
Truly, little book, I did not feel
able to tell the news to Dick. I floun
dered about in my mind for a plan.
At last I decided to call up Pat and
let him announce it through the pa-pe&
My little nurse got Pat on the wire
and he answered by "Hello" with a
shade of apprehension. "I have some
bad news for you, Pat"
"What is it, Margie? Aren't you
getting on as well as you expected?"
"Oh, it is not about me. I have
just received word that Eleanor Fair
low is dead, died very suddenly of
appendicitis. I thought you might
write a little not about it for the pa
per, so that -her friends might know
"But, Margie, I did not know her
very well. Won't you, or if you do
not feel able, won't Dick write the
A little cold chill ran down my
spine and for a moment I forgot the
ache that was always there.
"I'll write it, Pat," I said. "Send
a boy over for it in a half hour."
This morning this little notice ap
peared in The Daily :
"The many friends of Miss Eleanor
Pairlow will be shocked as well as
grieved to hear of her sudden death
in Chicago yesterday. Miss Fairlow
had not been well for some time and
had given up her training as nurse
just when she was about to be grad
uated. "She was visiting a friend of her
mother at the time of her demise.
"No young woman in the city was
any more popular than Eleanor Pair
low when she suddenly gave up so
ciety four years ago and entered the
hospital with the avowed in
tention of becoming a trained nurse.
Endowed with rare beauty and clever
mind and a most sympathetic nature,
her friends at that time deplored her
giving up the position she might oc
cupy for such arduous work. Their
fears were justified, for hospital
train ing proved too much for her
and she had to give it up at last.
"She will be missed more than
most, for her friends were many. It
is very probable that she will be laid