The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1870-07-21

ing sob:-as well as an angry word
lie was watching his wife's face
there was something in it he did not
understand kind Of patient, hopeless
look as if she no longer cared to struggle
onward The old mulberry ware did
look dingy on the snowy white table
cloth almost too bad for these chums
Of his to sit down to: he wondered he
had never thought so before. Robert
Thompson grew thoughtful.
lie passed into the kitchen when they
were going out again. How hot aud
sitting it felt with that big fre--,os
bad as the south meadow His wife
had been iu it cooking; that must have
made her face scarlet. indoors was
not so comfortable place, after all, if
you had hot work to do, was the idea
that fitted through his mind. And,
perhaps the work was oyer-much for his
wife, who at best was but q delicate
woman.
a fresh cool breeze had sprung from
the south, as he went out, walking slow
ly, but the sun was burning hot still
Robert Thompson waited to wipe his
brows and in that moment the voices
Of his comrades came towards him from
the other side Of the hedge, where
they stood in the little shade it cast.
never Iitied a woman SO much in
my life" quolh one of them. "She
works like a slave, and does not getey-
Gu "thank ye" for it from Thompson.
He's good fellow, but uncommon dowu
upon the work. Strong as a horse him.
self, he thiuks, | suppose, women must
be the same"
Yes, Bob's a sterling good fellow,
but Jane Lawrence made n mistake
when she said "yes" to his asking"
cried the other Jones, she wasn't
cut out for farmers wife, especially
Que who keeps his folks to itlko Thomp.
son does. She is over sensitive, deli,
cate any lady but her would have
turned long ago aud bid him give her
proper help. He won't make his mon.
ey out of her many years if he don't
take better care her; she'll run down
fast. Awfully changed she is. She
looks as faded as the old house rooms,
and they haven't seen coat Of paint
since Grandfather Thompson's day"
"Ah, she'd better have took Joe Burn.
ham. His wife has just gone ont in her
pony shay. l say, Jones, l wonder
whether Thompson's wife's ever sorry%
Was she? The unconscious comments
of these, his warm friends, came crush
ing down on Robert Thompson's heat
and brain like Il bolt of fire. That she
rejected Burnham for him he knew,
when she came home to the old home
stead aud took care of his invalid moth
er. Tenderly had she done it, too.-
And could she be wearing out her life
in hard work for him-she the mother
of his boys; he, whom she loved so
well, for all his churlishness Robert
Thompson stole away; he could bear
his thoughts no longer, and he felt that
he could almost kill himselffor his blind
heedliness.
The afternoon wore on toward even.
ing. Mrs. Thompson had finished her
indoor work--the washing up of the
dinner dishes and putting of the rooms
straight-and was going in with an
armiul of fine things that she had taken
from the clothes line, when the sound
OF wheels made her look round.
"lvc brought that white ware, Mrs.
Thompson" said the brisk voice of
Grover spriugiug from his cart, and
and lifting down carefully large ham
per.
But didn't order it, Mr., Grover"
she rejoined, in rather frightened
voice.
"The master did, though. Mr..
Thompson came down this afternoon
aud said the things were to come up to
you at once There's the dinner set
you admired, and the tea set as we'll.
Where shall | put'em? ?"
Bring them in, please" she answer
ed rather family. He did as he was
bid, and then drove off.
Mrs. Thompson sat down by the
hamper of crockery and cried as if her
heart would break. They were magical
tears, too, for they washed all the weari-
ness and despair from her face, and
shadow from her eyes and heart. She
forgot that she was tired, or that the day
was hot; she only thought how kind
Robert was and what a wicked woman
she had been for saying toherselfin her
temper she'd rather have had Squire
Burnham. Then she unpacked the