The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1870-04-11
MONDAY. P R II, 1870.
MEe's DOMESTIC EXPERIENCE.
[doNcLusIoN.l

the sum total rather scared her. John
was busy that month and left the bills
to her; the next month he was absent;
but the third he had a grand quarterly
settling up, and Meg never forgot it.
A few days before, she had done a
dreadful thing, and it weighed upon
her conscience. Sallie had been bay
ing silks, and Meg ached for a new
one-just a handsome light one for
partles-her black silk was so COM
mon, and thin things for evening wear
were only proper for girls. Aunt
March usually gave the sisters a pres
ent of twenty-five dollars apiece, at
New Year; that was only a month to
wait, and here was q lovely violet silk
going at a bargain, and she had the
money, If she only dared to take it.
John always said that what was his
was hers; but would he think it right
to spend not only the prospective FIVE
and twenty, but another ive.and-
twenty out of the household fund?
That was the question. Sallie had
urged her to do it. and offered to loan
money, and with the best intentions in
life, had tempted Meg beyond her
strength. In an evil the
shopman held up the lovely, simmer
ing folds, and said, "A bargain I as.
sure you, ma'am." She answered, "In
take it." and it was cut off and paid
for, and Sallie had cxulted. and she
had laughed as if it was a thing of no
consequence, and driven awayfeelings
as if she had stolen something and the
police were after her.
When she-got home she tried to as
suage the pangs of remorse by spread
ing forth the lovely silk butt looked
less silFery now, didn't become her,
after all, aud the words fifty dollars"
seemed stamped like a pattern down
each breadth. She put it away; but
it haunted her. not delightfully."-, as a
new dress should, but dreadfully, like
the ghost Of a folly that was not easily
laid. When John got out his books
that nighs, Meg's heart sank; and for
the first time 10 her married life, she
was afraid of her husband. The kind,
brown eyes looked as If they could be
stern; and though he was unusually
merry, she fancied he had found her
out, but didn't mean to let her know
it. The house bills were all paid,
the books all in order. John then
praised her. and was undoing the old
pocket book which they called the
bank" when Meg. knowing that it
was quite empty. stopped his hand,
saying nervously,
gfsYou haven't seennm my private ex-
pense book yet" g. i3@1<
John never asked to see it; but she
always insisted on his doing so, aud
used TO enjoy his masculine amaze-
ment at the queer things women want
ed, and make his guess what piping"
was, demand fercely the meaning ola
"hug-me-tight," OF wonder how a little
thing eombosed of three rosebuds, a
bit of velvet and a pair of strings,
could possibly be called a bonnet, and
cost FIVE or six dollars. That might
he looked as if he would like the fun !
Of quizzing her figures and pretending
to Be Mortified at her extravaganza, as
he often did, being particularly proud
Of his prudent wife.
The little book was brought slowly
out, and laid down before him. Meg
got behind his chair, under pretense
Of smoothing the wrinkles out Of his
tired forehead, and standing there she
said. with her panic increasing with
every word
John, dear, Fam ashamed to show
you my book, for I've been really ex-
travagant lately. l go about so much
/ must have things, you kRoW, and
Sallie advised me to get 1t, so l did;
and my New Years money will partly
pay for 1T but / was sorry after I'd
done il, for | knew you'd think il
wrong in me. .fa7-m a0
4 John laughed, and drew her round
beside him. saying good-hamorediy.
Don't 60 and hide, / won't beat you
if you have got a pair of killing boots
I'm rather proud of my wife's feet,
and don't mind if she does pay eight
T nine dollars for her boots, if they
are good ones"
That had been one Of her last itri-
hes," and Johns eyes had fallen omit
as he spoke.
"Oh, what will he say when he
comes to that awful fifty dollarsl"
thought Meg, with a shiver.
sit is worse than boots, it's o silk
dress" she said with the calmness of
desperation, for she wanted the worst
over.
"Well, dear, what is the dem'd to-
tal2 as Mr.. Mantalini says"
That didn't sound like John, and
she knew he vas looking up at her
with the straightforward look that
she had always been ready to meet
with one as frank, till now. She
turned the page and her head at the
same time, pointing to theesum that
would have been bad enough without
the City, but which was appalling to
her with that added. For a minute
the room was very still; then John
said-but she could feel that it cost
him an effort to express no dlspleas-
ure:-
swell, I don't know that fifty is
much for a dress, with all the furbe-
lows and quinnydingles you have to
furnish it off these days"
1T isn't made or trimmed, . sighed
Meg, family, for asudden recollection
Of the cost still to be incurred quite
overwhelmed her.
'Twenty-hve yards of silk seemsya
good deal to cover one small woman.
But I've no doubt my wife will look
as fine az Ned Moffat's when she gets
It on" said John, dryly.
~ know you are angry, John, but
I can't help it; and / didn't mean to
waste your money, and / didn't think
those little things would count up so.
I can't resist them when / see Salhe
buying all she wants, and plying me
because L don't; [ try to be contented,
but it is hard, and I'm tired of being
poor" The last words were spoken
so low she thought he did not hear
them, but he did, and they wounded
him deeply, for he had denied himself
many pleasures for Meg's sake. She
could have bitten her tongue off the
minute she had said it, for John
pushed the books away and got up,
saying with q little quixer in bis voice