Litchfield enquirer., 1879-12-18
HER FATHERS, DAUGHTER.
l..

in Bloomsbury Square, London, and the tune nine A. NJ. on bringht spring morning, Two young people-husband and wife evidently are seated at breakfast but the meal IS SO far advanced that they have both turned to their newspapers, or rather to the one paper, which they have divided between them. She,stFange to say, is immersed in the City article of the Morning Clipper He is fuming to himself over critique on the new comedy produced last night at the Variety Theatre She is handsome blonde of two-and-twenty. lie IS a tall, thin, rather melancholy looking young man, who has just seen his four-and-twentieth birthday. T
 ..Veronicas down again one eighthl" nut ters Mrs. Rivers. .'They have been sinking every day for the last fortnight. They used to be a favorite stock with papa. l hope he has not dipped deep ID them of late" .- -a And they dignify this rubbish with the name of criticism!" cries Gerald in disgust, as he filings away his paper and turns to his cold coffee "A more unfair and OHe-sided attack was never penned. But if Babcome were to write like an angel, the Clipper would stab him all the same; and if he were to write as badly as-as I do, the Pharos would be sure to treacle him; so that one always knows what to expect"
 Presently the postman's knock was heard, and minute later slatterniy maid -of-all-
 work brought up letter for Mrs. Rivers and a sealed packet for Gerald. "A letter from papa! | should know his queer cramped hand anywhere, 'i cried Alice. ''Good news or bad, eh, Gerald Y s
 My story back from the Piccadilly groan- ed poor Gerald, with visible lengthening of his already long face. 'Was ever such luck as mine? shall begin to think soon that l am only fit to break stones by the roadside" But his wife did not hear him.. She was lost ;, hnr0 lotto for lad or1 0 "a read, and presently the tears sprang to her eyes. "'Just like papa p' she cried ''I might l have known what his answer would be-, 1 felt sure at the time that my letters would be of no avail, but could not rest till had written.
 Even though he refuse to see me himself he might at least let Carry and Grace see me once now and then!" She got up suddenly, and pushing the letter across the table to her hus- band, she hurried out through the folding
 doors that opened into the bedroom. Gerald
 Rivers took up his wife's letter and read as under: MY DEAR ALICE II found your two letters awaiting me on my return from Mentone. AS they both refer to the same subject, one an- swer will do for the two. In both of theu you ask me (snaploqe is the word used by you) to forgive you. To this reply that 1 have nothing to forgive. You are of age, conse- queatly you are the mistress of your own ac- tfons, and have no control over you in any
 way. But when you ask me to see you, or, If
 will not do that, to allow you to visit your sisters, you put the case on an al- together different footing. To both your re- quests my answer is an emphatic No. In the most important step of your life you have chosen to act in direct opposition to my fre- quently expressed wishes, and as matter of 1 course you must put up with the consequences If of io
 tt'0 So o-er--.HAa of all ties that bound you to me as a cherished member of my famfIy. Tuu discarded your family of your own free-will, and your family now discard you. Such being the state of affairs between us, need hardly tell you that any letters you may send in time to come (except in urgent illness, and accom- panied by medical certificate to that effect) will remain unanswered. d.-Your father. . 4,s. t,, EDWARD CREwDsoN. P S.-Since writing the above, fresh thought has struck me- You know that it was my intention to have gwen you six thou sand pounds as wedding portion had you married in accordance with my wishes. Now. 1 promise you that l will overlook the past, and give you the six thousand pounds into the bargain, on the day that you or your husband can come forward and produce another six thousand to put to it. That is the chance I will give you. A bargain is a bargain.
 .. E.C. "The old boy might as we'll ask me to jump ever the moon as to find six thousand pounds, or six thousand pence either," said Gerald with sigh as he laid the letter on the table, 'sAlice | always said that he was full of eccentric whims and notions: and thls proposition of his proves that she was right" Fa r.s .,e,. Presently Mrs. Rivers came back into the room, and placing her hands on her husbands atn had been crying, and her eyes were still red
 but there was smile on her lips 'Just like papa, dear," she said. ''So infexible, so self -f willed. Nothing can move him when once he has made up his mind" .r..-s -.,' ..' s
 There is one consolation," said Gerald "We are DO worse off than we were before''i .
 .'Not bit." ,ti .ss a,,.4 a,:. .1... e14
 '.You see what you have brought yourself to through marrying pauper." n,-..t ,.
 Through marrying the dearest and best fel- low in the worldi" This with another klss
 "Our future can hardly be said to be co1eur de rose' .L ...auoss ,t D. s-pG.s-n
 Suppose we form ourselves into commit tee of ways and means 2'' 2z >l s73'i | ~ Ii -t'
 Agreed vote that you take the chair" So Alice went and sat down in the big easy chair opposite her husband eL 17s F
 'Three months ago today we were mar. ried, said Alice. ''On that day our joint cap- ital consisted of three hundred pounds. Yes terday I looked at our bank-book and found that we had just one hundred and ninety-nine pounds six and sixpence standing to our cred
 ''So that we have spent a hundred pounds in thirteen weeks ?''''-i r'.'i' s..ir *s.''. fH< 'a
 Precisely so. Bnt you must remember that out of that hundred pounds were paid the ex- penses of our wedding trip" "ia'3a E'Ft1@
 ''If we go.on living at the same rate for six months lons CT, we shall be bankrupt D
 Something not far from It.
 fThen the sooner look out for situation Of some kind the better for both of us.'
 But long before Che six months are at an end, your novel may be brought out, or your comedy accepted, or'-- ~ st''sa
 My dear Alice" interS,'r,, o,,rse,yss erau an1 longer? Three months ago we became man and wife. You brought as your dowry three tune left you by your grandmother. I brought What A bundle of wretched manu- scripts that were only fit for the butterman D
 70 Gerald, don't say that!''
 IA bundle of wretched manuscripts" reit- erated Gerald bitterly, comprising, among other useless matter, novel and comedy I was going to do grand things: to set up in life as man of letters; to make name for my self to earn an easy and lucrative living Wisu my pcu. 1CdIuS udS COul6 QOW0 sWlbl a crash. No publisher will offer me a penny for my novel no manager will read line of my comedy. have the consolation of knowing that have mistaken my vocation; that am not nearly such clever fellow as in my folly I fancied myself to be; and that l. have been living all this time on my wife's money, for lack of my own"
 70 Gerald!" .......-. ''In three months have earned twelve guin- eas-twelve miserable guineas. During the next three months may earn as much more, or perhaps nothing at all'' r. e. l You must not lose heart in this way dear. What are three months !? A very little time indeed, Remember how sJane Eyre. was hawked about from one publisher to another before any one could be found to accept it,
 Gerald shook his head. My dear Alice, l your husband is not man of genius, and no l one knows that better than yourself. I made the mistake, common enough, 1 daresayy,, among young men who have an itch for scribbling, of believing that the world would appraise my Irf norxvx Al,A . ] =