The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1873-10-25
81 have done so, and she recommends a

MIS-. COlllnsOn looked little thoughtful.
81 wish had time to look after this NY
self' she said presently; shut have not !;
you must MANAGE"
The children took to her at once, and the SER
wants didn't That made clearance of bad
rubbish.
"Hoighty-toighty, miss, and who are you,
pray? ~ asked the cook, at the very first re-
monstrance.
81 am a person paid by Mr.. and Mrs. Col
linson to look after their interests, because
they have been badly served and robbed for
some time back" said Mrs. Tarrant.
Cook was silenced, but not reformed; and
the first time Miss Tarrant caught her in fla
grant dishonesty, she was packed off, and re-
placed by a good servant of the young ladys
choosing. The housemaid was malleable
girl, whose conduct depended entirely on ex-
ample and supervision, as she did very well
after bit. The state the children were in
was reason sufficient for the dismissal of the
nurse and nurse-girl, and their work was
better done by one good country lass acting
under Miss Tarrant's actual superintend-
ence,
In three weeks time the house was hardly
recognizable. The children were clean. neat
well-behaved, and happy; breakfast was
bright, pleasant little meal, which started the
day cheerfuly, and the dinners We're so good
that guests thought that the Collinsons were
launching out extravagantly. Yet the house
bills were just about half what they had
been.
Redman courted his friends society more
than he had ever done before and was con-
slant visitor at the house. He would even
come in the morning with toys for the chill
and ask to be allowed to give them with his
own hands. He had never noticed them
much before, which shows what wonderful
enchanters soap and water and brushes
are.
Or was it the cookery which attracted Red
man? He positively fished for invitations to
stop and dine; and he was rather gourmet.
Whatever the charm, children or entrees, he
behaved like gentleman, which he was, to-
wards Miss Tarrant; he trealed her like
duchess, instead of assuming that conde-
scendng, patronizing air, which some men
who ought to know better adopt when adj
dressing lady holding similar position in
household. Lucy Collinson was not so alb
sorbed in her selfimposed public duties as to
remain insensible to the reforms which had
been instituted in her home, and she was too
rational to blind herself to that extent, al
though the contrast betrayed how much had
been neglected before. But in a little while
she began to feel dissatisfied. She was very
glad to be relieved of all trouble about the
children, but she didn't like to see them SO
fond of another woman; and when their gov
erness had to prompt them soto UOce to filial
behavior, which was sometimes the case, it
was neither gratitude nor liking which she
felt for her.
The wife's movements had become SO very
uncertain and cratic, that for the last year or
so it had been agreed that the husband was
never to wait dinner for her; and now, if she
happened to come home before the repast
was Over,it gave ner what less strong minded
ladies would have called ga turn to see this
other woman dining tete-d-tete with him.
Or if she returned later in the evening, she
would very likely find Miss Tarrant busy with
her needle, and Henry Collinson reading a
novel or poem aloud to her, and then
again wifely instincts seemed to jar with
phiiosophic sentiments.
In the early days of her married life, she
had enjoyed the cosy domestic evenings when
she and her husband were alone with an en-
tertalning book; or perhaps the "reminiscences
of play seen together the night before, than
which there is no better provocative of pleas
ant chat, would equally interest them. But
she had not escaped the weakness to which
earnest reformers, and people who think they
have got Missions, are subject; the uneasy
suspicion that any acquiescence in existing
order of things is reasonable to their princi-
Piles. That which is common, they consider
vulgar i'll the mean sense; they would fain
forego eating, drinking and sleeping, if it
were possible; as it is not, they sigh over
those necessary functions of human imper-
fectiOns. If one could clear ones mind of
can't it would be difficult to conceive why the
performance of public duties should be more
honorable than that of private But it was
the established custom for men to paw most
attention to the former, and women to the
latter; and, therefore, the set with whom Lr-
cy had cast in her lot concluded that the ar
rangement must be wrong, and humiliating
to the female sex.
care we fit only for nurses and house
keepers?' they Indignantly demanded. So
Lucy Collinson learned to consider a com
Portable acquiescence in the ordinary routine
OF domestic life to be in some way cowardly
cOnnivance at the barbaric theory of women
being property. And after a while habit be-
came second nature, and she was so absorb
ed by her committees and meetings, and ec-
lures, that she had no time for even pass
ing regret that home quiet and happiness had
been sacrificed on the altar of Public Duty.
But to hand her husband over to his club, or
any avocation which might amuse him, and
to intrust the care of her children to servants,
was one thing to see another woman in a
measure filling her place was quite another
SO Henry COllinson found his wife growing
cross, gloomy, and reserved; she no longer
talked to him of the matters in which she was
interested: so that altogether he began to fell
less regret that he saw little of her. He at
tributed her altered demeanor to his refusal
to provide the second five hundred pounds for
floating the scheme for training female watch
makers, and as he was determined not to i'm
poverish his family for any plan, however bene-
fetal to man or womank:nd at large. he saw
no way to reconciliation. How far the cold
ness between man and wife would have re-
suited, cannot be told for it was thawed by
sickness.
One morning, while Henry Collnson was
shaving, he heard Lucy call him, and going
into the bed room found her clinging to the
dressing-table.
''Where am II" she cried family, ''What
is the matter with me? 1 cannot seew
He got her into bed again, and sent for a
doctor. who said she had a low fever-and he
was not far out-only it was high one.
Miss Faversham had two strongly develop
ed tastes for sea air and crowds. She had liv-
ed in London for her neices sake, and on the
girls marriage emigrated to Brighton for her
own sake. So, when Lucy was convalescent,
and The doctor prescribed change of air,
she asked Henry Colllnson to bring her there;
an invitation readily enough accepted, for
who would take an invalid into lodgings,
when they had the chance of affording her
the quiet, comfort and cookery of home?
Getting well is very pleasant process when
you are young and have a good constitution,
and are we'll nursed. You can be lazy, not
merely with safe conscience, but with the
sense of laziness being virtue; no one may
contradict or worry you; the incest eatables
and drinkables are provided for you, and your
enjoyment of them is considered positively
meritorious. And then the sense of daily
increasing strength is of itself pleasure,
and the joy which child feels in mere exist.
ence is once more experienced.
Lucy Collfnson was happier now than she
had been for years. She was drawn along
the esplanades and piers in chair, with her
husband in attendance upon her; and when
she got little stronger she left it, and walked
about at intervals, leaning on his arm. 1t was
quite like a second honeymoon.
But the renewed happiness in her hus-
bands companionship did not prevent an
other desire from increasing daily with her
renewed forces.
"Cannot the children come down ?" she
asked one day; ''they need not trouble nv
aunt at all; we could get lodgings for them,
you know, somewhere. 1t seems an age since
/ saw them" .
~ was thinking about that very thing"
said Henry Collinson; "only 1 was NOT SIRE