Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1889-01-10
DARK DEEDS.
BY HENRY w. NEsFIELr.
CHAPTER l.

CHAPTER l.
No. 3, Netherli Road, y, W., was one
of the protest little semi-detached houses
in st. John wood. With its garden full
of iilacs and laburnums, whose blossoms
hung over he low brick wall in the
sprln tempt ngly within reach of the
predatory butcher-boy, its coach-hOuse
and able, its greenhouse abuttng on the
the studio, and its generally out -of-town
appearance 1t was as sweet spot for a
young married couple to nestle in as can
well be imagined.
There We're, however, certain signs OF
neglect about the outside of the house,
which seemed to need repair rather more
than its neigh Ors The paint had blister
ed Oh the green door in the wall, and
chalk marks upon it, evidently made by
the tradesmen's young men, showed
want OF res ect on their part which sug-
gesied to the passer-by that they had
Gale Tor their little accounts pretty FREE
quent!y without any practical result.
Tn the inside of the gate the garden be-
spoke &c same state of things. VIII
ere had once been grass plat and care.
fully kept lower beds there was now a
lare patch of earth with "a rudely erected
swing upon it, deno;ing the presence OF
children. and with the exception of the
garden could boast of were a few stray
Cling ags and marigolds. which some
how had managed to survive neglect.
Within the house signs of poverty were
TO be met 18th. The oil 10th in the en-
trance was much worn, and the shabby
coats and hats upon the pegs did no b.
token prosperity. A large room, evident
Is built for .udio, was shabbl furnish
ed as a sitting-ro III, for the present pro-
prietor did not earn his living by the
brush. large diamCnd-Paned windows
at either end, a lofty ceiling supported by
oaken beams, and a car ed wooden mantel
showed that some previous tenant had
been G fled with artistic tastes. Now the
roo looked bare and DIRE ry, for il lacked
the pictures and the works of art for
which It had originally been designed.
VI hat had once been a pretty conserva-
tory, no doubt well filed with lowers,
was now quite empty, sa 5e for few oil
tower-pO;s which remaided to testify To-
its former grandeur. And so on through
the house all the apar ments telling the
saue tale and bearing evidence of bad
luck or want of social success on the art
o. the present inmates.
Still, Notwithstanding this stamp of
poverty about the place, it must be owned
that it was scrupulo sly clean, and a
woman neat hands had certainly done
their utmost 10 make il as pleas and
rresentable as circumstances would per-
Lit.
The shabby curtains in the sitting room
were neatl ted back with pieces of rib
bon, few punches of lilac freshly gather
ed fro the garden soot in some
Old cracked asses, and the furniture,
though scanty and rather rlckety. was ar
ranged with such taste as to make at any
ra e the very best of It,
such was the habitation of George At
wood and his wife. Their household con-
sisted of two small children, one faithful
servan and little girl who came In the
daytime to act as nur @.
George Atwood had begun life with
fair prospects. A son of a younger son,
he had re lived fair college educa ion,
and possessing abilities rather ABOVE the
average, he ought to have succeeded in
almost any branch of life, had it not been
for his hav ng inherited that common
curse of so many young men-an utter
want of stability of purpose.
Leaving oxford without having taken
his egree, and with the reputation of
having Ueen mixed up In several dlscred-
table escapaies, he decided that he would
read for the Bar.
His reading did not last long. for short
ly afterwards he inherited a small income
by the death of his father and then he
capped his follles- as he was i'm the habit
Of remarklng TO his intimate associates
by marrying pretty Blanche Merrivale,
the penniless daughter of q country cur
ate.
During the early da"s OF their welded
life all seemed radiant and delightful. He
took the lease Of the pretty house In st.
John woNl, he gave nj Q little dinners
and talked confidently of the hundreds q
year he intend TO earn presently by his
pen. And so no doLb. he might have
done had he been differently constituted,
and had he gone the right wa to work
He con write uenty enough, and
amusingly; but he had the misfortune to
sell his frs boDk-not for very much GER
tainly hut he sold It, and the reputation
he earned ( r having done so made him
care ess in his after attempts
Thus, fully confident that he would
some day astOnish the world, he continued
his e penditure just as is he were actually
I'm receip OF The income he da ly pictured
TO himself as almost within his grasp
His club. his little outings to Richmond
with his old assoc ates his hanson cabs,
his dress. and sundry other items. had be-
come the neeessaries OF life, until, after
some four or five years of staving off cred
itors, George AtwoO ha brought him elf
TO his present pOverty-stricken condition.
Occasionally, by a strenuous effort he
had earned few pounds by writing some
little sketch for weekl periodicals. but
this only laid still further ''fatlering"
junction. to h soul, and more firm y estab-
lished the opinion he already entertained
that he reall was gifted mortal and
that the publishe- were dense fools for
not having :" umped' at the novels he had
written. Never mind; he would make
them smart for their impudence some day.