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CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE ANOTHER WIFE CONFESSES (Copyright, 1914, by the Newspaper Enterprise Association) "For three weeks." said Mary, "the three weeks that Jack and I had away from all the world, we were as happy as one can. imagine mortals to be. And then then for the first time I began to know the man I had mar ried. He would do anything in the world, put any one else in trouble or sorrow, to save himself one min ute's .annoyance. He began to wish he did not have me from the moment I told him I was going to have a baby. He tried to care for me when it meant giving up his old habits but it could not last He was too pleasure-loving, too selfish. "For months now he has had only one wish that I was out of his life. "Our perfect love has been, found lamentably imperfect. "We have neither found happiness with each other and we have put it out of the power of either to be happy with any one else. "Margie, why is it that so many men and women marry as Jack and I did only to regret it forever after ward? "Don't tell me it is mere passion, for we loved each other madly. True, there is nothing in common between us. We are as far apart as the poles in thought. We never could have held each other's imaginations for a moment, but there was some sort of a bond between us, something pri mary beyond explanation, and to me today, when I am here without the least feeling for Jack, I thrill at the memory of what has been. "Why could I not have met some man whose ideas of life were like my own Who had something of the same order of mind, and, not meeting him, why should I have had my heart drawn out of me by some one with whom it was impossible for me to find real companionship?" "One of the things most -women have to learn, Mary, is not to ask , 'Why?' too often. "With us it is the eternal question and one that ma'kes us more trouble than anything else. We always ask 'Why?' and men ask 'What?' One is always trying to find the reasons for things good and bad, exclaiming, 'Why is it thus and so with thee and me?' and the other is curiously peer ing out, with that everlasting 'What is it like?' on his lips and the feeling of a naughty child to tear it to pieces and see. "All of which, sister, dear, brings us back to the present with a thud. You must not ask why. You must go on doing this splendid work that you are doing and which you like so well, Mary. Don't you know that you have got the chance to make a man in your life the same kind of an incident that women are in the lives of men? "You ought to be very proud of yourself, my dear, and you should be comparatively happy you have been able to fill a place in a family that belittled your excellence a place that one of themselves failed to fill with even mediocre success." "Margie, dear, that is what is wor rying me. Of course, I know that dear old dad is getting steadily weaker and weaker and I know that very soon I will have no real claim on any of your family, as when Dad's estate is settled it will, of course, mean Dick, Jack, Mollie and mother. I shall feel like an interloper. For If Jack had any say about running the business he would put me out of it tomorrow even if I knew I could run it better than he. What will I do then, Margie?" "I don't think you need worry, Mary. The bookshop owes money to Dick and I am sure he will not see a business in which he will have an interest go to the dogs just to flatter Master Jack's vanity." "But," said Mary, with flaming jjipjfyjpgi'j! j$Kmg--v2t