The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1850-11-05

ugly as they framed words of ungentle mea-
ming, and exploited volleys of passionate
threats in the submissive face Of the cook.
Good hcavensp repeated William, rush
ing forward when he had recovered from
the shock what is the matter?'
The tongs fell to the floor. Uttorng
suppressed shrek, Lncy clasped both hands
over her face. Tho young wife appeared
as much Mortified at the sight of William as
Margaret seemed delighted.
Lucy, what does this meNn?' demanded
her husband
Lucy ouly pressed her hands more closely
to her face.
Shurc, SIR cried the terrified domestic,
retreating down the kitchen stairs and its
nothin' at all, at all, Eve done to be kilt for,
but only jist l burnt the mate a leetlc, sir ?
And with the air Of person conscious Of
deep wrongs, and lacking resigned and
forgiving disposition, Margaret dropped
down into the kitchen, and with wildly
flowing trcsscs,' rushed out in search of the
police.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Mowbray throwing her.
self upon a sofa in the si.tng-room, sobbed
with passion and shame. 1t was long time
before she could speak, and William, wound.
ed to the heart, sat by her, endeavoring
in vain 10 soothc her and elicit an explana-
ton.
'Oh don't look at me, William MIR
mured Lucy at last, scarlet with shame
Don't speak TO me | never can look you
in the face again
What is the trouble ? urged William.
ooh, have been so foolish so wicked !
l have given away to one of my fits of pas
sion ?
One Of yoT its Of passionr repeated
William, supplied. You, Lucy to have
fits of passion Oh, l can't believe itp
Lucy seemed crushed with shame. She
sobbed passionately. And when William
in great excitement, arose from her side,
and paced nervously to and fro, in no for
giving mood, she threw herself upon the
floor as if size would have died of humilia-
ton and grief.
William did not approach her, or speak
kindly nor seem to pity her; but still paced
to and fro, as if i'll a furious rage. But
William was only grievcd.
Lucy said he, at length, lifting her from
! tl,o noo- c,o,t ,.,,, -. 49,,
Lucy obeycd like a Submissive child.
Look me in the face
For the first time the young woman's sad
and swollen eyes were uncovered There
was a Wild fire in them yet, but she fixed
them on her husband.
Do you indulge in fits of passion = asked
William.
'Oh, don't kill me with such looks, plead
ed the wretched woman. See MY face is
burning with shame l acknowledge my
fault at your feet. Their don't look AT me
So l don't deserve to be forgiven, perhaps,
but you must overlook what cannot help
'What you cannot hep, repeated VII,
liam, dismally.
'Yes-for have fits of passion, and
cannot help it,
William looked like man who had lost
all hope. His face was mirror of sorrow
and despair.
Listen 10 me- he said in a half whisper
holding Lucy's hands firmly as he spoke,
and looking with his earnest, searching eyes,
into her very soul Listen to me, my wife
I am disappointed in you. cannot help tell
ing you this frankly. l have loved you
dearly for nearly year, and never before
did dream that you could give way to those
domestic curses, fits of passion. You should
have told me before r
And if l had 2 cried Lucy, the fire in
her eyes Frightening, like dim Goals famed
by the wind.
If you had,' said William, in a severe,
resolute tone, should have felt that l was
committing a sin, when took you to be the
companion of my life and the mother of my
children
"a sin ? gaspcd Lucy.
"A sin against myself continued William,
firmly, but not so much against myself, as
against my children 70. your fits of passion
can occasion me only few ears Of unhap-
piness, while they will ruin the dispositions
of our children, and devote them to lifelong
misery.
Lucy shrank away from her husband as
if she had been fearful Of giving him The
plague, His resolute tone, and severe, but
rational language, instead of increasing her
anger, only humbled her still more. She
fell at his tect.
Forgive me for decciying you > she plea
ded, / should have told you my faults but
shame prevented me. And / thought
could govern myself too Only forgive me
that, and pity my misfortune
= ! forgive you that said William, taking
her in his arms. But don't call your fits
of passion misfortune, To indulge in
rage, such as you have manifested is fault
which I condemn. Why, it is horrible
supposed it was some fend, and thought
should sink when was assured that it was
you. But those fits of passion-you can
govern them, Lucy, if you will. 1t is folly
10 say you cannot help giving way to them.
'Oh | can't, it
'Then, by heaven, you must ? exclaimed