Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1874-07-24

scorn the idea of wetting through.
So she tied on her log cabin sunbonne
that had a pert calico bow prospecting
from the top, took her reoked-handlee
green gingham umbrella, to act the
double part of supporter and protector
and set out-not to seek her fortune, but
seek somebody's misfortune
The way to DR.. Seacrest's was across
the green away from the black cotton
mills down by the river; away from the
street of stiff white cottages, where the
mill operators lived away from the
commonplace, two-story dwellings clus-
tering around the church, the store, the
blacksmith's shop and the postoffice, to
bit of level slightly removed from
"The Hollow by a sloping hill. Here
was scattered group Of houses where
the DOCTOR the mill-owner, the minister
and two or three prosperous farmers
lived Lived, so the Hollow people said
"stuck up" and apart from their neigh
| bors.
But the aristocratic isolation was all
the work of the Hollow, for, as Mrs.
Woodcock often said:
"Folks can choose their own place in
the world. If they have mind to hold
up their heads and be something they can
be, OF they can be nobody or nothing.
| Either one"
Accordingly she held up her head and
made herself somebody, equally in the
kitchen of Mary Duffy, the Irish laun-
dress, in Speck Lane, at the lowest dip of
the Hollow, and in the parlors of the spa
cious mansion that crowned the top of
Quality HI
So now she went UP the wide, flower
bordered walk leading to DR.. Seacrest's
stately doorway with the assurance of a
welcome guest, and, tapping confidently
on the open door, stepped in with little
nod and courtesy as much of respect to
herself as of Difference to Mrs. Seacrest
and her daughter Miriam, sitting sewing
and looking as tranquil as though no storm
had ever passed over either vineyard or
spirit.
Dear mel Is it you, Mrs. Woodcock?
How you started me! Come in. We
were speaking of you not half an hour
ago." cried Mrs. Seacrest, who was live
ly, cordial woman, as round and flushed
as poppy, and always sitting in the
sunshine, no matter what clouds there
might be in the sky.
Mrs. Woodcock came in. "Quite a
shower we have had," said she, dropping
upon velvet sofa with an air of being
much at home on velvet. 81 noticed
as l came along, Mr.. Hurlbert's oats are
beaten fiat, and | shouldn't wonder if
good deal of injury was done by the
hail"
every likely" replied Mrs. Seacrest,
serenely. "The hailstones were very
large But it has come off beautifully
now, and the air seems so much purer
after the storm"
Some people might nave felt put aside
at this, but not Mrs. Woodcock. She
perceived that something lay under this
placid surface, and, never being troubled
by excess of delicacy, proceeded at once
| to send out her blood-hounds.
Chow was it here?" said she, bold
ly. Anything damaged about your
grounds?"
"The dahlias some of them were
broken off--didnt father say?" responded
Mrs. Seacrest, appealing to her daughter.
"And I think some glass was broken in
the hot-house. The doctor has just or
dered different style of sash, so these
are out of the way just in time"
Everything was always fish that came
to Mrs. Seacrest's net.
"'Tisn't that" said Mrs Woodcock to
herself. Something heavier than hail
stones is ON her mind"
SO she started another trail.
"Heard from Earnest lately?" she
asked.
"Not very long since," replied Mrs
Seacrest, carelessly, but with the faint
est shadow of shade slipping across her
sunny face for an instant.
"That is it," said the visitor, inwardly
| nodding approvingly to herself For it
is not everybody who would have had
the skill to touch upon the sore spot so
soon.
But before she had decided on her next
question Mrs. Seacrest spoke again.
|. "We are expecting him home soon,
Mrs Woodcock, with his wife"
ellis wifeI" cried Mrs. Woodcock.
Even with her discerning foresight
she was not prepared for this announce
ment, Earnest Seacrest being yet jun
ior in the State University.
Miriam looked steadily upon her work,
| flushing with look of painful annoy
ance, but her mothers tone was as
blithe as ever.
eyes" said she; Earnest is young,
isn't he? But, after all, he is as old as
was when / married. Our children take
us by surprise coming to be men and
women so much sooner than we expect
"When do you look for him-them?"
faltered Mrs. Woodcock, too much be.
| wildered for her usual aptness of ques.
tioDing.
almost at any time; shall not be
surprised if they come today" answered
| Mrs. Seacrest, not able to conceal some
nervous dread
Not dread that the married pair
might arrive before Mrs. Woodcock
should go away with her long ears, deep
eyes and broad tongue. Oh, no! Mrs
| Woodcock would have scorned herself
with contemptuous scorning if such an
unworthy jealousy had crossed her self
assured mind.
So she sat, and sat, and sat, while Mrs
Seacrest sewed, and sewed, and sewed
and sewed.
Miriam, evidently unable to bear the
| slow torture, soon found an errand tC
her chamber, and found no reason fol
returning.
Wasn't your sons marriage little
sudden to you?" asked Mrs. Woodcock
| as soon as she had collected her ideas.
Somewhat. But it is so much better
for Young man to settle upon some one
than to fall into the habit of flirting" re-
piled Mrs. Seacrest, with cheerful salts
faction. "And | have always been in
favor of early marriages When pee Cnle
wait till their habits are crystallized i, il
much harder adapting themselves"
Mrs Seacrest's sentence was brought
to an untimely end by the stoppage of {
carriage at the gate-the doctors car
riage, too, with the doctor himself tC
drive.
$50 it seems she knew all the time
they were coming this very day, though
she made it so vague. And there was /
as my good fortune would have it, righ
in the midst of the home coming" saiG
Mrs Wnadcncl afta,.uard In s,ola ti,,s