Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1877-02-09

A0 - h1o0 0A"SS
happy wandering about the sunny slopes
the farm, or making improvements in I'll
house and garden. She was abundant
happy in the peace and plenty Of her HON
Ia peace and plenty she had never know
before. She was more than happy, thi
generous child, in giving to her heart
content. supplying her parents with all tn
luxuries the farm produced-fresh butter
new-laid eggs, fruit, flowers, vegetables
poultry. She had noticed that her husband
gave her less of his time than he nigh
have given her that he caressed her care
lessly, as he might a pet animal; that h
gave her too much of her own way. ant
showed an utter want of interest in wha'
she was doing.
George, too, had his own discomfort. HI
had begun to feel the extravaganza of his
young wife, and to rouse himself to it
consequences. His sisters had more thar
onct spoken to him on the subject, and h
had silenced them by saying
"It's no fault of hers, and I don't wan
to trouble her,"
George Goodwin soon began to open hi
eyes to the cost, but still he did not inter
fere. He was afraid Of hurting because h
did not love; and, beside, he had promised
Lavinia indulgence, and indulgent hi
would be if he ruined him. 1t was no
unlikely to do this.
A crisis had arrived with the arrival OF
the second baby. George Goodwin had in
vited his sisters to the house, and Mr.. and
Mrs. Jones had invited themselves. The
house was full, and the sisters stood aghast
at tn 9 %expediture which Lavinia directed
through her mother. It was nothing but
spend, spend, spend, from morning till
night: nobody knew how much, for it was
not ready money. In the kitchen extra
vagance had merged into waste; waste,
under Mrs. Jones' example. into dishon-
esty, which George Goodwin detested and
abhoMed more than the most of men, at
least more vigorously.
Meantime, in the dining-room. into
which the wintry sun was streaming,
George Goodwin had dashed down the
blinds and flung himself into the arm
chair, to think, and from thinking he felt
it was time to act.
the dairy. A maid was there arranging
the pans for the coming in ct the midday
milking. In a quiet corner stood a small
hamper. 1t caught his eye.
"What is that?" he asked sternly.
81 don't know, sir; it was Mrs. Jones as
did it up"
"Oh y; 81
He turned it upside down. A roll of
butter, a fowl. some eggs and a bottle
the latter mingling their contents-dashed
down on the stones, the port wine running
in a little stream along the floor.
"Don't let me find any more Of this. l
shall hold you responsible for all that
comes in and goes out here" he said to
the girl, as he turned away in a ton times
bitterer mood than before.
The things were his own, but he felt as
if he had committed a in med
ding with them. He strobe off to fluid
Mr.. Peck, the gardener, c~ow-keeper, pig
keeper OF the farm, to put matters into his
hands. Mr.. Peck, with a very white frock
and a very red face, was coming out Of the
GOV wished with a couple of frothing pals of
milk. He did not notice the farmer, for
there at his feet was the farmer little
daughter, her careless nurse maid leaning
on the fence talking to one of the men.
Unity Pet, me want to see ee moo
COWS" said the child, running past him
into the shed, the floor of which was quite
cleap and nice.
But Maggie, perfectly delighted with the
whisking of the tails, made a dash forward
to seize one, n was splashed from head
to foot ver her plum-colored velvet dress,
and white hat and feather.
"Dear. dear !" cried Mr.. Peck, setting
down his pals and lifting her up-"dear,
dear here you've been and spoiled your
fine dress y
ga great deal too fine" said the father,
coming forward. "Take her into the cot
tage, Peck''-it stood not a stones throw
from the shetland see if your wife can't
dress the child up in something that won't
spoil so easily"
He took no notice of the nurse maid,
who followed Mr.. Peck to claim her
charge. The nurse took the child to her
mistress. Maggie was in a red cotton frock
and a brown pinafore, and haG, moreover,
been eating bread and treacle. She had
certainly a more plebian air than usual.
II can't help her being such a fright .
cried the maid; "Miss Maggie would run
into the shed and get herself dirty, and the
master said she was a deal too fine, and
ordered MI. Peck to put them nasty, ugly
things on her. Shall I take them off, mum?n
mo-" said Lavinia, firmly; ''leaye them
for the present. Where is your master?''
II heard him say he was going over to
the Grange, and I saw him ride away" re-
piled the girl.
s'T1le Grange was the manor-house in
which lived the owner of Georges land.
He was riding thither as fast as his horse
would carry him. And for what purpose?
For no less a purpose than the giving up
his tenancy, if his landlord would take the
lease out of his hands.
"You are too hasty, Mr.. Goodwin u
said that gentleman. "The farm will pay
in time. You will lose by it if you throw
it up in this way. Think a little better of
it, and come back to me again. If you are
determined to go away, I will endeavor to
meet you and give you tolerably fair terms;
but l do not want to lose you"
He was obliged to be content with this,
and return home, but he was a resolute
man, George Goodwin, and not likely to
change his mind when he had made it up.
He had made up his mind to leave Eng
land.
And all the while Lavinia lay longing
for her husband, longing and waiting till
she grew faint and miserable. She closed