The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1881-11-26
THE WIFE'S LESSON.
Myra was pouting.

anu AiuSot Ti~HCN 90 itO ~ iiiCHl oCiCti
how often it had been there during
their brief married experience.
Upon the breakfast table were
standing the dishes of substantial
meal, in the disorder that followed
their use.
Breakfast was over, but Ernest
still kept his seat, toying absently
with teaspoon, while Myra looked
at hIm with the cross look ofa thwart-
ed child.
"Then you won't give me the
dress 2" she said.
Il cannot, Myra. / really could
not do it without running into debit =
THAT Is Just an excuse R,lpa a I
ways gave Inc the money for my
clothes. even if he was cross about
some other things"
Your father was a rich man. Myra,
when he was married."
81 wish he was rich now. l
would ask him for the money.
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:
Il am not stingy, Myra. You
knew that | was a poor man when
you married me, ana that / could not
give you the luXuries of your home !;
but | have granite yIu eve y induI-
gence in my power without getting
into debt. That 1 will not do, for
your sake as well AS mine"
He left her then, lingering in the
hall, as he put on his overcoat, hop
ing 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 up to her room cry
ing.
She was a spoiled child, the only
daughter of a man who had been
very wealthy, but who had hazarded
his money in an unfortunate specula-
ton and lost it.
A position abroad was offered him,
which he accepted.
His house and furniture. which he
had given his daughter for a wedding
gift. were settled upon herself, and
not effected by his change Of for
tune.
He knew Ernest Mather to he an
honorable man, who had a good bus
iness capacity and IA high place in the
esteem and confidence of his employ
ers, and had no anxiety about Myra's
future.
So the little wife, as she made her
pretty blue eyes all red with tears of
temper, mad 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.
"It's no harm to look at the dress
again, even if 1 can't buy it," she
said, as she tied on a coquettish little
bonnet and otherwise beautified her
self for her expedition.
The day was bright. soft warm
morning in early spring. and the
shops were filed with tempting
fnery.
In Myra's portmonaie there was
money enough to purchase IA number
of nice little parcels, even though the
price of the expensive dress was de-
MED her.
So the morning slipped away, and
luncheon time found her chatting
with julia Maxwell. and quite will
ing to accompany that friend on a
second tour in the afternoon.
1t was after five o'clock when the
little matron. tired to death, as she
said, reached her pretty home.
Her first shock was catching a
glimpse of Ernest's maiden aunt,
Miss Cordeiia Lowry, her especial
eversi0n and dread, seated upon the
drawing room sofa.
"OId horror !" she muttered. 81
wish she was at home. / wanted to
make it up with Ernest. Idon't like
the dress half rs much as l did yes
terday."
The second shock was upon open.
ing the door of her bedroom.
Open boxes. closets, drawers, an air
of general confusion everywhere. and
the small trunk Ernest always took
on his short business trips missing
altogether.
Clearly Eer husband had packed up
and gone, leaving Aunt CordeIia, as
usual, to keep Myra Company.
But where was he?
Upon the dressing table was a note
directed to herself and Mrs. Mather