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Newspaper Page Text
CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE-
DISAPPOINTMENT IS A SOURCE OF REGRET.
Little book, I wonder if you have
missed me as much as I have missed
you the last few weeks. Many have
been the times that I have wanted to
come and tell you my thoughts.
You see, dear little confidant and
comforter, the habit of coming to
you have become part of my life. Put
ting my thoughts and experiences
down on your white pages makes me
see with clarity my mistakes, my sins
of omission and commission.
I am quite sure any one who could
read your pages would get quite an
other idea of Margie Waverly from
the one the world sees every day.
Today the world that is cognizant of
my existence is seeing a -composed
Margie Waverly calmly going about
nursing a very seriously ill husband.
Members of my little world come
into my pretty sun room and tell me
about the sensation Malcolm Stuart's
"The will was probated today,"
said Eliene when she came in to see
me yesterday, "and it was a queer
one, Margie. Do you know it was
made the day Malcolm Stuart was
I held my breath, little book.
Knowing Malcolm Stuart as I did I
expected he had made some provi
sion in it for me. You see, he seemed
so sure on that last day that I would
go away with him, But Eliene went
on, unconscious of my beating heart
which was clamoring so loudly that I
.hought she must hear it.
"Malcolm left everything he had
in the world to Dr. Virot," she con
tinued, "the will says 'uncondition
ally.' In his will Malcolm said the
doctor was the only real friend he
ever possessed and since he had no
relatives living he wanted his money,
which until now had been perhaps a
menace to society instead of a solace,
to be expended in good works instead
of selfish pleasures.
" 'My friend, Dr. Virot, who is the
best and most sympathetic man I
have ever known, will do this better
than I could, and I want to say if
death means sleep I shall sleep more
quietly because I have given him my
faith and trust, knowing he will not
fail me,' " quoted Eliene, and then
she spoke musingly. "Margie, I be
lieve there was more in that will than
was probated. Dr. Virot has some in
structions that were given to him
Strange as it may appear, little
book, I was both relieved and disap
pointed by that will. It seemed to me
if Malcolm Stuart had made that will
on the day he died, which was the
day he was so sure I would go with
him, somewhere in it would be some
thing to show he had some thought
of me. I was, however, much relieved
it was not so.
Again I thought how small I was
to think of myself when he was dead.
I don't mean, little book, I wanted
one bit of his money. I only won
dered that on a day when one would
suppose his whole thought would be
of me, there was not the slightest in
timation in this most important mat
ter he had remembered I was alive.
Little book, I can't tell even you
just what I think about it all now, for
I haveot yet told myself. I cannot
quite realize all that passed on that
eventful afternoon a month ago. I
can't think Malcolm is dead, though
in the next room Dick is babbling of
things that in his senses he never
would tell me.
Ever since Dick fell in a faint of
exhaustion that afternoon he has
been delirious with brain fever so
ill that only the nurse and I are al
lowed at his bedside, 'since we
brought him home that day by spe
Dear old Jim has been a veritable
rock and has taken care of Dick's
business. The deal Dick was so anx
ious to put through is settled in his
feiHaMSNiM - ,.-..