Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1880-02-04
The Wife's Lesson.

was over, Dut Ernest still Kept his seat,
toying absently with teaspoon, while Myra
looked at him with the cross look of
thwarted child.
"Then you won't give me the dress ?"
she said.
al can't, Myra. really could not do it
without running into debt"
"That Just an excuse. Papa always gave
me the money for my clothes, even if he was
cross about some other things"
Your father was rich man, Myra, when
we were married"
al wish he was rich now. I'd ask him
for money; never thought you would be
stingy, Ernest"
This last thrust was too much for the long
enduring temper. Ernest Mather's voice
was stern as he answered:
81 am not stingy, Myra. You knew that
| was poor man when you married me, and
that could not give you the luxuries of
your old home; but have granted you every
indulgence in my power without getting into
debt. That | will not do, for your sake as
well as mine"
He left her then, lingering in the hall as
he put on his overcoat, hoping she would
come for kiss and word of reconciliation.
But she sat tapping her foot upon the floor
until the hall door closed, and then ran to
her room crying. She was spoiled child,
the only daughter of man who had
hazarded his money in an unfortunate spec.
ulaton and lost it. A position abroad was
offered him, which he accepted. His house
and furniture, which he had given to his
daughter for wedding gift, were settled
upon herself and not affected by his change
of fortune.
He knew Ernest Mather to be an honor
able man, who had good business capacity
and high place in the esteem and conf
dence Of his employers, and he felt no
anxiety about Myra's future.
So the little wife, as she made her pretty
blue eyes all red with tears of temper, had
no sensible mother to tell her how wrongly
she was acting, no sister to sympathize with
her, no one to scold or humor her. Under
these circumstances the tears were soon
dried, and Mrs. Mather went out for walk.
ats no harm to look at the dress again,
even if | can't buy it," she said, as she tied
on coquettish little bonnet and otherwise
beautified herself for her expedition.
The day was bright, soft, warm morn.
ing in early spring, and the shops were filled
with tempting finery. In Myra's dainty
portemonnaie there was money enough to
purchase number of nice little parcels
even though the price of the expensive dress
she wanted was denied her.
So the morning slipped away, and lun.
cheon time found her chatting with Julia
MAXWELL, and quite willing to accompany
that friend upon a second tour in the after.
noon.
1t was after five o'clock when the little
matron tired to DEATH" as she said, reached
her pretty home.
She was shocked to catch a glimpse Of
Ernest's maiden aunt, Miss Cordelia Lowry
her especial aversion and dread, seated upon
the drawing-room sofa.
"Old horrorl" she muttered al wish
she was at home. want to make it up
with Ernest. don't like the dress half as
much as did yesterday"
The second shock met her upon opening
the door of her bedroom. Open boxes,
closets, drawers, an air of general confusion
everywhere, and the small trunk Ernest al.
most always took upon his short business
trips missing altogether. Clearly, her hus-
band had packed up and gone, leaving Aunt
Cordelia, as usual, to keep Myra company
But where was he?
Upon the dressing-tabe was a note di
rected to herself merely this;
have waited for your return as long as posi-.
ble and written this note to explain my absence
told you six months ago OF Mr.. Agnew's offer to
me II would accept the position Of traveller to
the house--double my present salary and a lib
eral commission. declined 1t then, because you
said the money would never compensate you fol
the constant separation. To-day the offer Is re-
newed. After our conversation this morning
think your objection will hardly have any weight
so have accepted and leave in an hour. | will
write you every month, enclosing remittances.
leave the accompanying bank-note for the dress
you desire ! have sent for Aunt Cordela, as
usual, TO stay with you. ERNEST MATHER.
Not loving word, not regret for the
long separation.
Myra realized then how considerate and
loving her husband had been under the
wearing vexations of her whims and caprices.
Great tears rolled down her cheeks as she
bitterly reproached herself.
al have made him believe don't care for
anything but money" she thought. He
leaves me this TO console me for his absence.
Oh, Ernest, come home again aud I'll wear
calico and sun-bonnet to church before III
tease you for fnery again ~
1t was not an easy task to go to dinner
and meet Aunt Cordelia, but it must be done.
1t was no new thing to see Myra in tears
when Ernest was away on business; so she
only expressed desire to see "any man
alive she'd cry for" and said no more about
the little wife's red eyes.
The days passed very wearily. Aunt Cor
della preached daily sermons to Myra about
extravagances and various other feminine
weaknesses, till the poor little woman wished
she was as homely and ill-clad as the tor
mentor herself.
"You never see me with such dress in
the house as that" she would say, with a
complacent glance at her dyed skirts.
al buy my clothes TO wear" Myra re-
torted. "lf had as much money as you,
Aunt Cordelia, I'd be ashamed to go about
the house in such dresses"
And the spinster would shake her head
and groan, audibly, pitying "poor, dear
Ernest"
"You never see me" was ever her open
ing address, and Myra grew to hate the
words, in the long months of her enforced
companionship. For Ernest did not return.
Spring, summer, autumn, passed away and
December was opening, yet still he did not
come. Every month formal letter reached
Myra, inclosing check for her expenses of
such liberal value as proved Ernest was
making money; but each one informed her
that her husband was just leaving the place
from which he wrote, and made no mention
of his next destination.
Heart-sick, penitent, and oh, so lonely,
she fairly loathed the sight of the money
that was accumulating in her hands. Letter
after letter she wrote and destroyed, not
knowing where TO address them. She was
growing SO pale and worn, so quiet and sub
dued, that Aunt Cordelia's most hateful
speeches often went unanswered.
She was sitting in the drawing-room one
cold December morning, when Mr.. Agnew,
Ernest's employer, came in.
al am sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Mather,"
he said, "but wished to inquire II you
have heard from Ernest this week"
Not since the lst," she replied.
g. lie wrote us on the 9th that he would
remain in Cumberland until the first of the
year, aud was to send some papers on the
7th. These have not come, and we are en-
barassed for want of them. | telegraphed
yesterday, but have no reply. However, if
you have not heard he is III, he is probably
better"
"lll I" she faltered.
"Well, judged from his last that he had
not fully recovered from the fever he had |