The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1880-10-07

lZlnB the house and herself, too. Yes,
that 1 should, but it's them | should
revolutionize, not myself, she emphati-
cally pronounced. at may be that old
love affair cropped up again; that wom-
IN who threatened to bring an action for
breach of promise when James married
me. Perhaps she has been writing let
ters to him. Mind you don't let Dinah
Ann find it, says Harry, or perhaps
perhaps James has been foolish enough
to let her meet him. Harry. not mar
ried man himself, and n lawyer, would
lend himself to any earthly thing without
scrliple. All lawyers do"
This rural district, remote from the
haunts of willy men of the world, was
given over entirely to farmers and farm.
ing interests; simple-minded and simple
hammered people, who live out their un-
eventful lives in the routine of daily du-
ties. The small market town of Northam,
four miles distant, was sleepy and
primitive, never awakening from its
slumbers save on the weekly market
day. 1t had its parson, its doctor, and
its lawyer-Ilarry Leetc; all three of
y
farmers. Not simple in the point of in
tellect, it must be understood but as to
life and manners.
This Thursday market day. James
Harbury had gone to it in the gig Of
brother farmer, Peter Hall, his own
mare, which he either rode or drove
generally, being sick. He was a tall,
slender man of 80 years, very fair, with
exceedingly handsome features and mild
blue eyes, looking as unlike the popular
notion of a farmer as n man could look,
and presenting marked contrast to his
agricultural ncighbOrs. So far rs ap-
pearance went none Of them, poor or
rich, could vie with James Harbury, and
his temper and his bearing were alike
gentle.
He had one fault, though, perhaps,
all people would not call it fault, love
of money. That he was one of the
warmest" farmers in the district was
universally believed, and the most saw
ing of men. Too saving, his wife would
tell him, and where was the use of it,
she would ask, considering she had
neither chick nor child? And every
now and then she would make the money
fly, for she was dear lover of smart at
tire, and of having pretty things about
her. James would vince, and bid her
be careful; but he never went the
length of telling her she had spent too
much. He was fond Of her, and she Of
him.
"Neither chick nor child.' In that
fact had lain sharp sting. They had
been married eight years now, and the
sting was wearing itself away. Time
sottcns all things. He had never given
her cause for an unhappy thought until
tonight. He had never had any secrets
from her, except that he never could be
brought to tell her what the exact sum
was that he was enabled to put by Mt the
end of each year. Dinah Ann Harbury
did not care for that !; she knew that,
however much it might be, it was all for
her.
But she did care for this-this mys-
terious secret which had come to her
hearing tonight. She knew how good
looking James was how universally he
was liked by man and by woman, and
what kind heart he had-she put it
"sott and something like jealousy
began to torment her spirit.
When James came in again the sup
portray was at one end of the table, and
Dinah Ann, an unusual light in her
eyes, sat at the other end, near the
lamp, having taken up her knitting.
The farmers general manner was easy
and placid, though he had certainly
seemed restless after leaving the gig, but
now he was calm again.
"Well," she said, as he cut himself a
slice of the cold boiled beef, and how
did you find White Bess?'
"Oh, she seems comfortable" he re-
piled, looking round for the mustard
pot.
"You deceitful villain You know
you did not go near the stable, " thought
his wife. "You are sure you think so ?"
she added, aloud.
"Aye. White Bess will be all herself
again tomorrow, Dinah Ann"
"It's more than shall be-" thought
Dinah Ann, "unless | can come to the
bottom of this.
He ate his supper nearly in silence,
like man who is mentally preoccupled.
And he enjoyed it, too, for he was very
hungry.
"James, do you ever hear anything
now of that Emma Land? ?"
James Harbury laid down his knife
and fork in surprise at the question, and
looked across at his wife, whose face was
bent over her knitting.
"Did ever hear anything of Emma
Land?" he repeated. "What can make
You ask that, Dinah Ann?"
"What can make me ask it? don't
know. The query happened to come
into my mind. Why should | not ask
itp"
"There's no sense in it-that / see"
"But do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Ever hear Of her?"
"Why, You know she went out to
where was it ?-the West Indies, think
to her friends there-ever so long ago.
Nigh upon eight years it must be. You
know she did, Dinah Ann"
"But she may write from the West
Indies. Perhaps she does. Does she
write to you?"
He shook his head to imply mega
tive, and occupied himself with his sup
per again. Emma Land had once upon
n time been somewhat-sore subject be-
tween them, for Dinah Ann pas jealous
in the old days.
"Do you ever see her, James?"
|
"See who?"
"You know. Emma Land"
81 can't think what has put all this
into your head tonight, Dinah Ann.
How is it ?"
"But do you?
"Do 1 what
"See her?"
"why, how could 1 see her p re-
turned he, in sort Of helpless tone,
that his wife fully thought was put on.
,,.t =. H. IUo.t TnIiaa opI r on,