The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-10-23

prieny anu coluly, explaining her aD-
sence. A passing boy agreed to de-.
liver 1t. but it got beyond his
own pocket.
Toward evening Barbara began to
wonder what kept her mistress, and
decided to take matters into her own
hands and get up a dinner. Seeing the
large bin of onions in the cellar, she
said within herself: 'sThis is what she
all time want; 1 will cook some - Dur
ing the process of cooking she made
many trips to the front door to watch
for her lost mistress. Each time she
left all the doors open behind her, and
SO thoroughly perfumed the whole
house with the odor of the dinner.
In the city Philip had picked up an
old college friend and persuaded him
to stay over a train and dine with him.
AS ne ushered his friend into the pretty
house, with a pardonable pride, it was
somewhat taken down by the unmis-
taxable odor that greeted him.
'Onions! as l live," he said to him
self, land Merwin is such a fastidious
fellow! However, wait till he sees An
nette"-so he went in haste to bring
her.
Upstairs and down and in the gar
den he searched. She was not to be
found. This was a new departure-to
be away on his return. He told his
friend she had probably been detained
would be in presently.
Chagrined and mortified almost be-
yond his power to conceal, after wait
ing an hour, he was obliged to invite
his friend to a table without a hostess.
The first cover he removed disclosed a
dozen huge specimens of that obnox-
ious, ill-odored vegetable that had
caused their unhappiness. He forgot
his heroic demand and shut it with m
phasis-not tonight would he eat
onions, 1t was unlike the delicate tact
of his wife to have ordered them cooked
that night, while she was still ignorant
of what had passed in his mind.
Barbara was not yet perfect. The
dinner both in cooking and serving
missed the supervision of the mistress.
The host was i'll at ease and absent, and
was not sorry that his guest soon babe
him goodbye.
And now Philip grew positively un-
easy. and proved himself not 8 whit be-
hind a woman in the power to ~coniure
up dire probabilities. Perhaps she had
slipped from that high bank where they
sometimes walked along the river!
And he rushed out through the garden
and over the fields till he stood on the
bank amidst the gathering shadows
and peered remorsefully into the dark
waters. What if somebody had alb
Quoted her, had brought word that he
was i'll and carried her off! That
thought was maddening. Then he re-
membered her one relative in the city,
her cousin. No public conveyance
went that way, and in hot haste he
started on foot. His speed astonished
himself. Breathless and painting he
arrived and vas about to ring, when,
obeying ar impulse, he stepped to the
side porch and looked through the Vine
covered window. Yes; surely, there
was Annette! A little group near the
open fire, she kneeling by a low chair,
her bright head bending over little
Harry. who lay in his mothers lap.
The first feeling wa of relief and
gratitude. She was safe. And then,
it was his turn. There came surging
over him, like a hot breath from a fur
mace, a wave of anger, and he strobe
away. His hasty glance had not shown
him the death-like pallor on the baby's
face, nor the anxious expressions of the
others. His conclusion was that the
baby was being made ready for bed,
and the two were admiring his pretty
pink toes.
On he went in the darkness, his re-
sentiment gathering force at every step.
Here she had deliberately planned to
put him to torture. "How little she
must care for him when she would al
low him to spend a whole night in
anxiety. He had supposed her nature
to be gentle and forgiving, and here
she had treasured up a few hasty words
and was intent on revenge. He had
made concessions, and she had scorned
them. (Alas! he had not the dimmest
suspicion that those ten bushels of con-
cessions were just what widened the
breach.) He walked the floor for hours,
then f1inging himself on a lounge, to-
ward morning dropped into a heavy
sleep.
The result of the nights meditations
was a decision that the next advance
toward reconciliation must come from
Annette herself. just as he was about
starting for the Office in the morning,
Annette was driven up to the door.
They looked at each other in silence.
He fingered a to see if she had
any explanations to offer, and she
waited in the hall hoping that possibly
he had repented of the odious conduct
of yesterday and was willing to confess
it. Silence is not always golden -
the proverb is misleading. II he had
but asked. "Why did you GO awayp"
or she had said some pleasant word!
But, no, they passed each other in grim
silence.
Another day of gloom and despair
for both. This unwonted strain, added
to the nights watching, brought upon
Annette q nervous headache, so that
by the time of Philips return she could
not raise her head. 1t was fortunate.
But for this they might have gone on
till happiness was wrecked. Annette,
with spirited little head erect, sailing
through the house, was to be considered
somewhat differently from this one, her
head on a pillow, racked with pain.
No mother could have cared for her
more tenderly and skilfully than Philip.
Throwing his resentment to the winds,
he ministered to her for hours until she
fell into quiet sleep.
In the morning, with the pain all
gone, explanations were in order. Ii
was hard to tell which was the more
astonished, as the misunderstanding
OF each began to come out.
"And you did not go away to have
revenge on me" "And you did not
send home all those onions just to tease
me?' were some of the questions asked.
Then the ludicrous side began to appear
and they laughed long and merrily.
whatever shall we do with all those
onions?" queried Annette when she
found her breath.
"We will make sweet fragrance to
our mt by means of Them" said
Phillip. awe will send gifts to the
poor-always of onions. We will be-
come famous rs philanthropists, and
u eccentric charities will be the
theme of succeeding generations. But,