Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1881-05-12
a country house, sighed she.

a country house, sighed she.
with burglars and mildew and spiders
thrown in, eh? Nonsense, my dear, non
sensel The city is the place to live in.
And we can have papa and mamma to
live with us, can't wei
W-well, don't know exactly about
that, said Milford, thoughtfully stroking
his moustache; IN buy 'em snug little
place, if you say SO, my love; but l never
did believe in fathers and mothers-ln law
living with their children. Every hoIse-
hold is complete IN itself. That's my
notion
'Oh, Merton, how can you talk sol! cried
Lucy in panied voice.
oh, we'll, Lucy, there's no use in SEN
timentalizing on these points, retorted her
husband, little brusquely.
i don't care to be rich If can't enjoy
the pleasure of my money, SAID Mrs Mil
ford, pouting.
so you may enjoy them if you only will
be reasonable about it,
'And I've always thought SO much of
having mamma with me-
Better leave off thinking of 1t then, said
Milford, lighting a cigar ana leaning back
in chair, the better to enjoy it.
1 suppose | can have as many servants
as please, now?' haza-ded Mrs. Milford,
wisely steering the conversational barque
away from the shoals of dispute.
Twenty, if you like, my dear, replied
Merton.
And housekeeper, like Mrs. Miller'sl
'Not housekeeper,' said Mr.. Milford,
shaking his head. tNo fine ladies for me,
disguised as dependents. AS many SER
wants as you like, no one to domineer over
them-a proxy for yourself
Il will have housekeeper,' said Lucy,
excitedly.
No, you viii not, my dear-not in my
house
And can we have a cottage at Bngh-
TONI
why do you say Brighton5' gravely
questioned Merton. To my miud, Puss,
Brighton is nothing more than q hot-bed
of folly and fippery. AT Hastings nowi
i don't care for Hastings said Lucy,
moodlly: the air never did agree with
me- Lucy burst into tears.
Mr.. Milford got up and strobe out of the
ROOM.
Merton, Mertonl' cried the wife, where
are you going?'
To the billiard room at the corner, said
Milford, hotly. i can find friends enough
there, dare say, to give to me the sym.
pathy my wife seems inclined to with
hold
Lucy cried bitterly. In all the bright
years of their married life they never had
any serious differences until now. Was it
possible that riches were destined TO bring
them only mead of misery instead of the
expected rush Of happiness Next came
a feeling of bitterness and resentment. She
WOulu buOW McEJOu llldI SHC was uOt W bI
treated like child. He came home, but
Mrs. Milfold feigned to be asleep. She
did not come down to breakfast next
morning, making an excuse of a slight
headache, the effect of last nights tears,
and Milford ate and drank alone.
'Humph!' commented he, swallowing his
coffee in succession of dyspeptic-breeding
gulps GA pretty sort of life this.
For three days Lucy cried and Merton
sulked. At the end of that time he came
home with curious expression on his face.
Puss, said he.
Lucy looked up, her pensive face bright
ening at the old, caressing pet-name.
I've just had a second. telegram-Uncle
Jesse is dead
Poor old man, said Lucy soberly. DO
you know, Merton, l begin to doubt
whether Uncle Jesse's money will do us
any good
& don't think it will, said Milford,
because you see the old man rallied at
last, and made new will in favor of the
REFUGE for Old Men