The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1878-01-31
OUR STORY TELLER.
SENT BACK HOME.

SENT BACK HOME.
"Eh ?' said DIR. DottereI. "The stage
stopping here? And a lady getting out
with a traveling-bag and a bandbox?
Now, wonder who can possibly be COM
ing TO see mep
Elderly bachelors, as general thing,
are not partial to unexpected company,
and DIR. Dotterel was, perhaps, less
socially inclined than most of his class.
With old Ruth to cook his meals and
superintend his household, the news
paper TO dream over in his few leisure
hours, and collection of rare and
curious shells to label and classify
within the shelves of an ancient
walnut-wood cabinet, DIR. Dotterel
asked no odds of mankind, or of woman,
either.
"Bless me p said old Ruth, hobbling to
the window. "Who can it be?'
Hold onP said DIR. Dotterel, pushing
his spectacles upon his forehead. cts
MagdalenW
"Not our Miss Maggie~ squeaked
Ruth.
"Old goose" said DIR. Dotterel, in ac-
cents of good-humored reproof, "will
you never learn to call your young lady
by her married name? No, it is not Miss
Maggie; it's Mrs. Fieldp'
And both the doctor and his female
factotum hurried to the door to greet
the niece and adopted child of the
former, who had been married that day
six months ago.
Maggie Dotterel had been a blue
eyed, sunny-haired little damsel, with
long, curled eyelashes, cherry-red lips,
and nose slightly turned upward at the
end.
Mrs. Marcus Field was paler and less
vivacious, and she wore a troubled look
in the azure depths of her big eyes.
"Uncle," said Maggie, dropping down
in the depths of the easy chair as if there
was no elasticity left in her, "I've come
back"
"Happy to see you, Pm sure" said
DIR. Dotterel. "And when is Marcus
comingp
"He isn't coming at all I" sobbed out
Maggie. "I-Pve left him; I've come
back to you"
"Left him-ehp' said DIR. Dotterel
Left himl And what for, should like
TO knowT
"He-he's getting dreadfully dissi
pated," whimpered poor Maggie, feelin,
the want of sympathy in DIR. DottereP
nights-and he's got lot of gay com
panions leading him into all sorts of so
ciety. He's cruel to me, and"
"Cruel, chip said the doctor. "Doe
he beat youp
'No, uncle. The ideap' flashed on
Mrs. Field.
"Does he starve your
"Of course notb-Maggie drew hel
self up.
"Has he ever refused tomaintain yo
decently."
"No, uncle"
"Oh," said DIR. Dotterel, "he must b
u brutep'
"But, uncle, there are other things
"In my young days." remarked tn
old doctor, there used to be clause i
the marriage service that read-'For be
ter, for worse.'"
"Uncle," walled Maggie, clasping he
little kid-gloved hands together after
piteous fashion, "are you, too, going
turn coldly away from me?'
Nothing of the Sort" said DIR. Do
terel. "Pm going to- give you goo
supper as soon as Ruth has got it read,
aud let you sleep in your old room Il
night. But in the morning you must G
back again."
Back to Marcus, unclew
"' Back to Marcus niece"
"Uncle," cried the bride, with energ
"Pll go out scrubPing by the da
frstp
"Go out scruDbing, then, if you pr
fer it," retorted DIR. Dotterel, dryly
"but / certainly shall not countenan,
this separation and divorce bushes
Once n wife, always a wife; that's m
doctrine. There comes your tea; drir
it."
Maggie Field felt as if the steamir
and fragrant beverage would choke h.
as she swallowedit.
She had been so sure of sympathy ar
harborage from her uncle, and now
was about to deliver her up once mo
into the hands of the enemy.
"Uncle," she asked, "can't l stay wi
your
No." answered DIR. Dotterel, frml
"you can't. Your place is with yo,
husband now"
fJO nlIS. Iclu TtbuIucu 10 IO
don early the next day, feeling n
half 80 much like q heroine as she h:
done the day before, and mentally co
demning Uncle Dotterel as a har
hearted old ogre.
There was one comfort, however. Ms
Gus would never know of her discol
future.
Marcus had gone on business jol
ney two or three days before, and wou
not return until that evening.
So Mrs. Field went languidly abo
her household duties-they lived in
cozy little house, overlooking a pret
park where the horse-chestnut tire
we're Just studding their boughs wi
chandeliers of snowy bloom-thinkir
the while, of how she could best comps
her own freedom, now that Dotterel
fused to receive her back into her ri
hoods hoIIo
"I might teach" said she to hersc
only j should have TO polish up my
accomplishments a little. Or / mig
get a place in a millinery store. / ui
to be a good hand at trimming hats a
making caps, Or"
She stopped short here.
In examining the drawer of Ia
she had come to an old letter-a let
written TO her by her husband bef
they were married. ...
In the days when was neither M
nor less than an angel" said Mrs. Fie
with a scornful laugh. "Things
quite different now"