The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1884-08-27

had sat up among the straw, and had
winked at her, and had asked her tc
give him threepence of GIN with the
cat-lap. To this she had acceded,
thinking probably that she could moi
altogether deprive him of the food Ia
which he was accustomed without in.
jury. Then, under the influence Of the
gin and the promise of ticket tc
Portsmouth, which she undertook to
get for him at the station, he was in
duced to 60 down with her, and was
absolutely dispatched. Her own box
was still locked up, and she had slept
with one of the two maids. All this
had not happened without great dis.
turbance in the household. She her,
self was very angry with her master,
because OF the box; she was very angry
with Mary, because Mary was, She
thought, ayerse to her old lover; she
was very angry with Mr.. Gordon, be-
cause she well understood that Mr..
Gordon was anxious to distdrb the ar.
rangement which had been made for the
family. She was very angry with hel
husband, not because he was generally
a drunken old reprobate, but because
he had especially disgraced her on the
present occasion by the noise which he
had made in the road. No doubt she
had been treated unfairly in the matter
OF the box, and could have succeeded 10
getting the law of her master. But she
could not turn against her master in
that way. She could give him II bit OF
her own mind, and that she did very
freely; but she could not bring herself
to break the lock of his door. And
then, as things went now, she did think
it well that she should remain few
days longer at Croker's Hall. The oc-
casion OF her masters marriage was to
be the cause OF her. going away. She
could not endure to be foremost among
all the women at Croker's Hall. But
it was intole. liable TO her feelings that
any one should interfere with her mas
ter; and she thought that, if need were,
she could assist him by her tongue.
Therefore she was disposed TO remain
yet few days in her old place, and had
come, after she had got the ticket for
her husband--which mad been done be-
fore Mr.. Whittlestaff's breakfast-to in
form her master of her determination.
"Don't be fool" Mr.. Whittlestafl
had said
"Im always a a fool, whether 90 or
stay, so that don't much matter" This
had been her answer, and then she had
gone in TO scold the maids.
As soon as she had heard of the in
tended dinner-party, she attacked Mary
Lawrie. $50 you're going to SEQ this
young man again!'
"Mr. Whittlestaif is going to dine at
Little Arlesford, and intends to take
me with him."
"Oh, yes; that's all very well. He'd
have left you behind if he'd been of my
way of thinking. Mr.. Gordon here.
Mr.. Gordon there! wonder what's Mr.
Gordon! He amt no better than an
ordinary minerl Goals and diamonds
is all one to me-rd rather have the
Goals for choice" But Mary was not
in humor to contest the matter with
Mrs. Baggett, and left the old woman
the mistress of the field
When the time arrived for going to
the dinner, Mr.. Whittlestaff took Mary
in the pony carriage with him. There
is always a groom about there" he
said, $50 we need not take the boy Z"
His object was, as Mary in part under
stood, that he should b c able TO speak
what last word he might have to utter
without having other ears than hers to
listen to them.
Mary would have been surprised had
she known how much painful thought
Mr.. Whittlestaf gave to the matter. To
her it seemed as though he had made
up his mind without.any effort, and was
determined to abide by it. He had
thought it well to marry her and hav-
ing asked her, and having obtained her
consent, he intended to take advantage
of ber promise. That was her idea Of
Mr. Whittlestaff, as to which she did
not at all blame. him. But he was, in
truth, changing his purpose every uar-
ter of an hour;--or not changing it, but
thinking again and again throughout
the entire day whether he would not
abandon himself and all his happiness
TO the romantic idea OF making this girl
supremely happy. Were he TO do so,
he must give up everything. The world
would have nothing left for him as to
which he could feel the slightest inter
est. There came upon him at such mo-
ments insane ideas as to the amount of
sacrifice which would be demanded of
him. She should have everything-his
house, his fortune and he, John Cor
don, rs being part of her, should have
them also. He, Whittlestaf, would
abolish himself as far as such abolition
might be possible. The idea OF suicide
was abominable to him-was wicked,
cowardly and inhuman. But il this
were to take place, he could wish to
cease TO live. Then he would comfort
himself by assuring himself again and
again that of the two he would certain
ly make the better husband. He was
older. Yes; it was a pity that he
should be so much the elder. And he
knew that he was old Of his age,-such
one as a girl like Mary Lawrie could
hardly be brought to love passionately.
He brought up against himself all the
hard facts as sternly as could any
younger rival. He looked at himself in
the glass over and over again, and al
ways gave the verdict against his own
appearance. There was nothing to
recommend him. So he told himself
judging Of himself most unfairly. He
set against himself as evils little points