Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1881-01-25
THE WIFE'S LESSON.
Myra was pouting

The unmistakable expression of ill.
temper disfigured her pretty face. and
Earnest sighed as he remembered how
often it had been there during their
brief marriage experience.
Upon the breakfast table were stand
ing the dishes of substantial meal, in
the disorder that follows their use.
Breakfast was over, but Earnest still
kept hiA seat, toying absently with a
teaspoon, while Myra looked at him
with the cross look of thwarted child.
"Then you won'tgi me the dress ?'i
she said.
II can't Myra. I really could not dc
1t without running into debt"
"That's 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"
"I wish he were rich now. I'd ask
him for the money. I never thought
you would be stingy, Ernest"
This last thrust was too much for the
long enduring temper.
Ernest Mather's voice was very stern
as he answered:
II am not stingy, Myra. You knew
that I was poor man when you MARI.
ed me, and that could not give you the
Iuxuries of your old home; but have
granted you every indulgence in nv
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 re.
conciliation.
But she sat tapping her little foot up
on 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 been very
wealthy, but who had hazarded his
money in an unfortunate speculation,
and lost it.
A position abroad was offered him
which he accepted.
His hou. and furniture, which be
had given his daughter as a wedding
gift, were settled upon herself, and mol
affected by his change of fortune.
He knew Ernest Mather to be an
honorable man, who had good bust
ness capacity and high place in the
esteem and confidence of his employ.
ers, and he felt no anxiety about Myra's
future.
So the little wife, as she made he1
eyes all red with tears of temper, had
no sensible mother to tell Der how
wrongly she was acting, no sister to
sympathiZe with her, no one to scOld OF
humor her.
Under these circumstances the tears
were soon dried, and Mrs. Mather went
out for q walk.
TITS -a@ harm to look at the dress
again even if I can't buy it." she said
as she tied on her coquettish little bon.
not and otherwise beautified herself for
her expedition.
The day was bright, q soft warm
morning in early spring, and the shops
were filled with tempting finery.
In Myra's dainty portemonnaie there
Der of nice little parcels. even though
the price of the expensive dress she
wanted was denied her.
So the morning slipped away, and
luncheon time found her chatting with
Julia Maxwell, and quite willing to ac-
company that friend upon second
tour in the afternoon.
It was after five o'clock when the lit
tlO 0idbAOn, UlACu " uChtu, d6 SuS SalO
reached her pretty home.
Her first shock was catching glimpse
of Ernest's maiden aunt, Miss Cordelis
Lowry, her especial aversion and dread
seated upon the drawing room sofa.
"Oh horror! !" she muttered. II wish
she was at home. want to make it ur
with Ernest. I don't like the dress
half as much as did yesterday"
The second shock met her upon open.
ing the door of her bedroom.
Open boxes, closets, drawers, an all
of general confusion everywhere, and
the small trunk Ernest took with him
on short business trips missing alto.
gether.
Clearly her husband had packed ur
and gone, leaving Aunt Cordelia, az
usual, to keep Myra company.
But where was he?
Upon the dressing table was note
directed to herself, and Mrs. Mathe1
tore it open.
No loving address to herself; merely
this:
II have waited for your return as long
as possible, and write this to explain
my absence. I told you six months age
of Mr.. Agnew's offer to me, if I would
accept the position of traveller to the
house-double my present salary. and