Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1885-12-26

Trench's timid comprehension; it was Mrs.
Trench who had lost Mrs. Courcy de Spen-
ser's earrings.
" don't believe she ever had any dia-
mondsl' cried Mrs. Trench. Il believe
hers were just like yours, cut glass or crys-
tai. She's the thief But that makes no
odds. She's got to have her Sl0O. And
don't you cry, Josephine dear-she shall
have 1t somewhow-I can't think how
unless | sell the spoons, too-and they're
not mine. Or, might rattle this crazy
quilt, and say it's for charity and so it is
Or l could sell my sealsllin, or-or ask Mr..
Trench, il / can't get it any other way.
But shall have it for YOU, Josephine,
don't fear, some way. Only just keep her
along keep her off awhile; wait till we
get this Christmas off our hands. 1t may
bring something in we can use, any way
and Mr.. Trench will have to hand me some
money sometime or other; and perhaps |
can get my courage up to tell him all
about it. | don't know why | cant-but
| don't dare-Pm so afraid and then
Mrs. Trench broke down and cried, and
Josephine, who had become in this stress
something like an intimate friend, cried,
too, and 1t was all very damp and unpleas-
ant. After this the days only dragged on
heavily, and she expected something more
than had yet happened on every succeed
ing one; she grew thin and pale, and
started at every sound, was ready to cry at
word, and lived in the atmosphere of
perpetual dread of she knew not what
g / don't know what's the matter with
you, Mabel" said Mr. Trench, with irrita-
- | gl,un H. -
Christmas is over"
I'm sure | shall !"
The idea of turning what ought to he
a happy time into a season of such work
and worry"
"You haven't helped make the season
so light to me that you need to talk in that
way !" cried Mrs Trench, quite beside
herself, her feelings rushing for the first
outlet
{" / don't know what you want me to do A!
I've explained my circumstances fully"
explained her husband, "and if you
haven't sense enough"
You mustn't tell me / haven't sense
enough You mustn't !" she cried And
in another instant she had thrown herself
on his breast, c!asping him convulsively,
and had run from the room, crying like a
child.
Pm sure | don't know what 10 make
of her." said Mr.. Trench ruefully.
"Though she's more like herself in this
explosion than she has been for fort
night. don't even know if she'll be
pleased over Christmas neutrality-suspicious.
| was foolish not to end that matter up at
once and give it all to her then. / don't
know what TO make Of her or any other
woman. Sometimes" murmured he in his
! evaporation, sometimes | wish there'd
never been a woman born !"
1t was a curious coincidence that in the
fastness of her own room his wife was at
the same moment exclaiming: 'Oh, |
don't see what | was made for | wish
never had been borni | wish thered
never been any woman born w But in the
last wish she was thinking of Mrs. Courcy
de Spenser.
But all things come to an end and at
length it was Christmas morning-such a
blue and white sparkling morning, a sky
like the tent of the tabernacle, an earti.
snow-clad with purity, every tree and
shrub wearing an angels plumage, and a
bright wind blowing that seemed to shake
the sunshine out of heaven. Such happy
sounds there were in the early Christmas
bells, such happy faces in the streets, too,
and, inside, the house was all spicy with
the hemlock boughs and holly of jose
phine's handiwork. "Its as sweet as a
forest" said Mrs. Trench to herself "But
| declare these presents are the shabbiest
Christmasing | ever did! | wish | had
made something for Harry, after all.
guess I'll give him one of Johns neckties.
Well, they'll all come over to breakfast,
and I'll have breakfast that would make
Delmonico's mouth water" And she was
as good as her word, her table glittering
with red oranges and black grapes and
russell winter pears and marmalade lucent
as jewels, while the kitchen of the King of
France could have been no more savory
with good odors than hers was that morn
ing from chicken potpie, steaks done to a
turn, slices of cold duck, broiled oysters
quivering on their way from the gridiron
to the toast, omelette slipping from the
pan like slice of gold, biscuit like snow
balls, turnovers for the children, and coffee
that might have made one doubt if really
that were not the nectar of the gods.
Mrs. Trench surveyed everything and
then hearing the arriving family an
nounced by the voices of VIII and Lolly
and little Janet, and the gay greetings be-
tween the elder Janet and Lawrence and
Maggie and Sally and Harry and the rest,
she ran up to slip on her pretty brown
silk-she had not had it on since she went
to the opera-and she put a geranium in
her hair and tried to greet them all with
smiling face and she felt that the house
e, e,
mas cheer and none of it in her heart,
while Josephine's pale face and swollen
eyes smote her with a sort of terror every
time she looked that way.
And what an uproar the house was in,
and how little Janet Rugged her rag baby
with its pretty painted face, and how
pleased the older Janet was with her crazy
quilt, and Lawrence with his silk stock
ings, one ard all exclaiming and thank
ing and kissing and laying her own
gifts in yet unexplored heap and hoard
beside her her chair. And she was having
hard work not to cry, and Josephine was
bringing in the dishes, and Mr.. Trench
was sharpening the carving knife, and all
were taking their seats in the midst of the
jollity and camor. Aud then Mrs. Trench
was mechanically turning over her plate
that had been reversed upon some trifie,
and Mr.. Trench's knife was murderously
suspended in the air as he watched her.
For suddenly Mrs. Trench's eyes had
grown large and shining. a color like
wild roses began to spread over her wan
face, she half rose from her chair, bending
over what she saw before her-two spark
ling, shining, quivering drops of luster,
her earrings, her old earrings that her
father gave her! And beside them-what
else? A little, slippery, tortoise-shell
portemonnaie, her own pOcket-book, and
she seized it and opened it, her own hun
dred dollar bill in it And all in flash
of instruction her poor little mind could
never have comprised it-she saw that
her husband, meeting her on Sparkler's
steps, had gone to inquire of Mr. Sparkler
what she had been about there, and had
bought the gems back out of hand; and
it was he who in mere mischief had
snatched the pocket-book in the crowd
and had kept it for this moment. Joy and
anger swept across her in force at one
breath. joy at the recovery, anger at the
delay
"Oh, how could you, how could your
she cried, flashing her eyes at her husband,