Grand River times. [volume] (Grand Haven, Mich.) 1851-18??, 1857-08-05


She ought to have done it, anyhow, before
this"
Hour after hour passed, but no pattern
came. Beyond measure was Mrs. Nicholson
and had she not cause for annoy
ance! No lady reader will gainsay this for
an instant. 1t was trying case. Two or
three times Margaret renewed her request to
be permitted to 60 after the pattern; but the
more the subject was pondered by Mrs. Mich
olson, the stronger became her conviction that
the neglect was all on the part of Mrs. Black
we'll.
Finally, after waiting two or three hours,
until it was too late to finish the basque on
that day, even if the pattern were in hand,
Margaret went away, leaving the disappoint-
ed Mrs. Nicholson in the worst possible hu-
NOR with herself and every one else.
The day was just burying itself in shad-
dows, when Mr.. Nicholson, weary in mind
from business cares, and pleased to get home,
stepped across the threshold. His little pet,
May, had been watching at the parlor win
dow during the space of half an hour, and
at the first glimpse of his form, had sprung
away from her position, and was at the door
ready to be caught up in her fathers arms al
most as soon as he had lit open. And
she was SO caught up by her loving father,
and almost smothered with kisses.
" Is that you, Edwards"
1t was the voice of Mrs. Nicholson, calling
from one of the upper rooms.
The response of her husband brought Mrs.
Nicholson down with quick moving feet
She found him, just inside of the parlor door,
with the happy little May in his arms, look
ing very cheerful, and utterly unconcious of
any approaching storm.
"Just to think of tw said Mrs. Nicholson,
going off in an excited tone of voice" Mrs.
Blackwell never sent that basque pattern, and
Margaret, after waiting here for several hours,
went away without touching the garment
she came expressly to make.
81 declare" exclaimed Mr.. Nicholson.-
Now, isn't that too bad"
Isn't what too bad? You don't mean
to say that you didn't call at Mrs. Black
well'sg
There was an outfashing of Indignation
from the eyes of Mrs. Nicholson at the very
thought.
81 do mean to say that very thing" re-
piled Mr.. Nicholson, with some penitence of
manner. at is all my fault What could
I have been thinking about! I'm very sor-
ry, indeed!
Sorry don't mend the matterw retorted
Mrs. Nicholson. "It's shame for you to do
so! Here I've had Margaret waiting nearly
all day, without being able to take stitch
in my basque, which l expected to wear to-
morrow, and all because you did not choose
to take the trouble to stop at Mrs. Black
wells, and ask her to send home the pattern
l lent her."
"Don't say didn't choose my DEAR"
Mr.. Nicholson's countenance changed.
"Its just what do say, and what mean,"
answered Mrs. Nicholson with binding indig-
nation. If you had cared a particle about
my comfort or convenience, or had possessed
the smallest inclination to obey me- you nev-
er would have neglected that small request.
l have cause to be angry"
Pm very sorry" said Mr.. N.
"Oh, don't say sorry, again!" Mrs. Nichol-
son Interrupted. "I hate the word, and
have no faith in it. Sorryw
Little May, with half frightened look,
drew her arms tightly around her fathers
neck, and laid her head down upon his bo-
som.
For some moments longer the indignant
woman stormed; and then, as there was no
reaction from her husband to keep alive the
turbulent spirit that possessed her, anger
wasted its strength down to feebleness and
silence.
The hush of sadness followed, as in all
such cases, and tears succeeded to passion
Mrs. Nicholson, after having poured out her
vials of wrath, felt more unhappy than while
bottling her Indignation. Not word of an
cry retort had passed her husbands lips; she
would have felt better if he had betrayed
some darker shades of feeling, and thus
brought himself down nearer to the level up
on which she had descended But he only
remained passive, with his loving little May
clinging to his neck.
At tea time but few words were exchang-
ed by husband and wife. The cloud on
Mays spirits had nearly passed over, and she
chatted away, and asked her usual score of
childish questions.
After tea the gas was lighted above the
the center table in the sitting room, and Mrs.
Nicholson sat down with her work-basket.
Little May had a box of painted paper
toys, and amused herself with these, talking