Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1863-05-16

dusk. 1t was decidedly too dark To read yet
it was not time to call out the brilliant fairies
of light that were imprisoned in the gided
tubes of the chandeliers. And so it happened
that the room was yet in darkness, save
for the twilight that struggled in through
the heavy curtains of ametnystine silk
and the rudy htful CLEANS of the soft
coal fire that danced and sparkled in the CRATE.
For it was late in October, and the autumn
trosts were descending on the uplands, and
even city homes looked all the brighter for a
cheerful fire.
"All alone? and in a brown study, as live!
hope haven't interrupted you, Clayton?"
As if brisk DR.. Colwell ever interrupted
anybody Does the sunshine interrupt the
flowers in the garden-does an invigorated
breeze interrupt the feyered brow on an Au-
gust morning? We rather think not! And
DIR. COlwell was man decidedly after the or
der Of sunshine and brisk breczes.
''Not at all, doctor-take this arm chair"
'Well, | will" said the doctor, depo sitting
himself comfortably in Il nest Of crimson silk
cushions, and tlinging his hat ON an opposite
table. And you shall tell me what makes
you look so Respondent"
Ibid | look despondent?'
"Did you? a pretty question to ask an old
fellow vino has held you on his knee many
a lltuc' rs IL ulu 1T hllON every CndUB6 OI
your cOuntenance us completely as if it were
printed book. Something is wrong, Mark,
SO out with it."
Really, sir" said Mark Clayton, laughing,
Il was not aware"
WASN'T aware! o, fiddlestick, Mark.
PerhapsEy you're not that you are totally
different man from the cheerful, sunny heart
ed fellow of six months ago. Some influence or
other has changed you to Il pensive, low-Spir-
tied spooney. Excuse the word Mark, but |
assure you it is eminently appropriate"
'Thank you, DOCTOR" said Clayton.
"There now-was that a genuine laugh?
Not a bit of it-only hysterical cachination
that an honest man ought TO be ashamed of.
Let ME feel your pulse, my boy. Hum-m-
ha-a-all right there. Now then, you don't
speak out I'll-I'll-"
What DIR. Colwell would have done, in that
case, never was made known to the world, for
just as the words were trembling upon his lip,
the door opened, and beautiful young lady
swept into the room, bonneted and shawled,
as il for walk. The old gentlemen started
up with brisk gallantry.
Mrs. Clayton-and rs rosy as pink
needn't ask after your health, it seems"
81 am very well, thank you, doctor. Dear
me, Mark, how very warm the room is Why
haven't you lighted the gas?'
Mr.. Clayton ooeyed by instantly ilumina-
ting the room. His wife threw herself care
lessly into a chair.
'Whats this envelope on the table? Tick
cts for the opera"
Eyes. l thought you would like to hear
the new p1-tnla DONNA"
"Well, shouldn't then. The opera always
makes my head ache. wish you ever re-
membered my likes and dislikes rightly"
"Then," said Clayton, smiling, 81 am al
most afraid to present this bracelet | bought
this morning in remembrance of the day we
were engaged to one another two years ago"
co." said Mrs Clayton, ungraciously.
"Turquoises-the very stone of all others that
is most unbecoming to me-"
'Thats pity, for have had your initials
marked on 1t, and consequently it cannot be
exchanged"
Il can't wear the thing" said the wife, pet
tishly giving the velvet box push along the
table, II wish, Mark, you would take your
feet off that ferder-of all the disagreeable
habits men pick up, that is the worst
Mr.. Clayton removed his feet from their
obnoxious position without word; the old
doctor sat observing the couple in silence.
"Your handkerchief, DEAR" said Mark,
leaning forward to restore an embroidered
cobweb of fine muslin that had slipped from
his wife's lap. As Mrs. Clayton took it, she
uttered little impatient sound
"Mark-you have been smoking"
'Only one cigar, Nina-and that was two
hours ago. | didn't suppose your olfactory
nerves were so deicately strung"
at is too bad, Mark" fretted Nina Clay
ton, 'when you know how hate a cigar"
at shall be the last time, puss," said the
husband, caresSingly. Come, sing us some
OF DIR. Colwells favorite Scotch ballads be-
fore tea"
81 don't feel like singing said Nina, petu-
lanty.
"Pay something Them
81 suppose it never occurred to you that
might possibly be tired aftermy walk"
81 beg your pardon, dear; did not think
of It,"
'Ofcourse not; men are privileged to be
selfish. BY the way, did you get me that new
piece of muSc"
"Never once thought of it! But I'll be
sure and bring it home Tomorrow"
''You needn't" said Nina, applying the cob
web handkerchief to her eyes. 81 don't care
for it nor ~
"Why, Nina isn't it just as good tomorrow
as to-day"
=. Mrs Clayton made no answer, but left the
room, shutting the door behind her, with a
disturbed countenance, as if to follow her.
.'Sit still, Mark" said the doctor, quietly
pushing him back into the chair. GIVE dis
covered the secret of your changed aspect
now !"
~ assure you, doctor, she does not mean"
eyes, yes-I understand She's simply
spoiled, petulant child, who has unconscious
ly fallen into the habit of finding fault with
everything that occurs. But, Mark-she
makes your life miserable"
Clayton's head had fallen upon his hand.
81 can't deny it, doctor-I am miserable;
and yet | know that Nina loves me dearly, in
spite Of all these little irritabiities. o, doc
tor, how happy should be if she was only
the Nina OF year ago"
The doctor had been adjusting and read
justing his spectaclcs, and polishing the
glasses thereof with great energy, for a min
ute or so. Suddenly he stopped, and fixed
his keen gray eyes on Mark Clayton's face
"Shall [ tell you how to work the transfor-
mation?'
edo, doctor"
''Then you must promise to adhere to my
commands strictly and Iiterally-no halfway
obedience"