The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1881-11-25

q
bands remark, hard look settlin,
round the pretty mouth. "May ask
] MIR. Stickney, who these ladies are
L know they are the Mazonsons," sh
= added, in the same singular tone, "bu
Q what are they tc you?'
"They are relatives Of my first wife,
the gentleman replied, in voice tha
had the calmness of desperation in it
III must have taken for granted tha
you knew, Florence. Mrs. Mazonso1
was Mrs. Stickney's mother, and MARI
and Susan her sisters"
And they have always lived here Pi
For some time before and ever since
Mrs. Stickney died Mrs. Mazonson has
been my housekeeper, and the girls
have been her assistants"
"Why was there no servant. Mr..
Stickney, to wait on the table this eyon-
ing p was the lady's next question.
"We have no servants, Florence
"And all the work of your house is
performed by the Mazonsons ?"
eyes"
"Who did it before the Mazonsons
came ?"
/" Mrs. Stickney, my dear"
For moment there was silence in
the barn-yard. Then there was a rustic
OF retreating silk, light step going
swiftly toward the house, and thus the
singular interview ended. This was n
very unpleasant commencement, Mr..
Stickney told himself, and for q while
this gentleman's milking was purely
mechanical. From the bottom of his
heart he wished he and his wife could
be alone. On the other hand there was
a great deal to do in the house. much
more than Florence could ever manage
If she worked night and day. At this
point Mr.. Stickney really did have seri-
GUS doubts as to the wisdom of this
second marriage of his. For the first
time he asked himself whether it would
be right to imp2se the drudgery of
farm work on this young and delicately
nurtured woman. He had thought
very little about The domestic part of
I the programme. He was accustomed to
seeing the women about him constantly
occupied, and Florence knew she was
accepting farmer when she agreed to
marry him. Then, too, Mrs. Mazonson
was exceedingly competent; indeed, no
housekeeper could be more 80; and Mr..
Stickney summed it all up by assuring
himself that Florence could get alonS
with the Mazonsons easily enough il
she had only mind to think SO.
In the meantime Mrs. Stickney had
locked herself into her room, and with
clinched hands and flashing eyes was
recalling every moment OF the time
since she first met the man sho had
married. She had been grossly deceived
and imposed upon, and worst of all,
the deception and imposition had come
from the one who had promised to love,
honor and cherish her to the day of
her death. The drawn lips grew tender
and pitifui as she thought how utterly
she had loved and trusted him, and how
entirely she had believed in his affection
for herself. "To live with these solemn
and automatic Mazonsons would be
worse than keeping house in tomb,
with skeletons for company" she sobbed.
She could not and would not en-
dure 1t. No man had right to ask
such sacrifice from his wife. But she
hadn't been asked. She had been
cheated into her present position. She
would leave tho house where she had
been and would continue to be unutter.
ably wretched, and go straight hack to
her father. Little did he think that
the rich and honorable Hubert Stick
ney would heap such indignities upon
his daughter. She world go. No, she
would stay, and show the Mazonsons,
and her husband too, what kind OF
stuff she was made OF.
That evening Mr.. Stickney was de-
tanned below by callers. 1t was 10
o'clock before he was at liberty, and,
then, to his great delight, Florence was
fast asleep. The poor child had for
gotten her troubles, and the morning
would show things in more promising
light. He would do everything he
could to make up for the Mazonsons,
the head of the table waited to see il
Mrs. Mazonson would occupy it, and
finding that she did, went calmly round
and sat by her husband.
"Yes, breakfast is ready" said Mrs.
Mazonson, in voice between growl
and a groan. cts been ready some
time"
81 hope you slept well last night,
Mrs. Stickney?" This from Maria
Mazonson, whose voice Florence heard
now for the first time.
"Very we'll, thank you," Mrs. Stick
ney cordially replied.
"You slept late enough, if that's any
sign" said Mira. Mazonson in her most
sepulchral tone.
s'I always sleep late, Mrs. Mazonson,"
Florence replied, as she slowly poured
the cream into her coffee.
"You can't sleep late on this farm
spite Of his ten ytmb' experience as
cacy and sensitiveness OF a true woman's
nature, Mr.. Stickney went calmly and
comfortably to sleep.
The next morning, after waiting to be
called to breakfast, Mrs. Stickney, in
the daintiest of muslin wrappers, pre-
sented herself in the dining-room. Her
husband had just finished his early
mornings work, and now greeted her
with smile and kiss. The elder Ma
zonson looked exceedingly flushed and
lurIied, and Maria and Susan Mszonson
few briskly round ut the bidding of
their superior officer.
81 beg your pardon" said Mrs.
Stickney, in her calmest and coolest
manner, "I thought breakfast was
ready. I hope am not intruding."
A smile played round the lips OF
Miss Susan, who, in spite OF her dread
full name, was not altogether so hideous
as Florence had thought at first sight.
The rightful occupant of the chair at
and after little everything would 60
smoothly enough. Mr.. Stickney would
not have been so certain OF this if he
had seen the tear stained face and quiv-
ering lids. Ignors-t OF all this, and in
very WE'LL" the elder lady began again,
her face ablaze. "l've been up since
half-past four" she went ON, "and now
it's half-past seven. I've skinned
eighteen pans of milk, washed all the
pans, and made twenty-five pounds OF
butter this morning
"You must be very tired" Mrs. Stick