The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1889-08-07

arm; but was longing for plausible
grievance, and the fact of not being able
to find one made me twice as irritable as
before.
As she seemed to exDect an answer,
said. with that particular dumpy
sound in my voice which is 50 diseourag-
ing 10 an interloeutor:
~0h, l like riding well enough when
! have good horses"
Well, ! am sure Uncle Matt's-" she
began, but | cut her short.
Your Uncle Matt's h rses are couple
ofold sciews. went to look at them in
the stable yesterday"
She looked vaguely bewildered at my
tone Of voice
Why, what is the matter with YOU
Dick Has anything annoyed you?
Here was my opportunity.
Anything annoyed me ?'' burst out.
Isn't it enough to annoy any fellow to
be cooped up in confounded hole like
this, with nothing but that bcastly sea
and sand TO look at outside, and room
like this to liveinY
Celia looked hurt and indignant, and |
say the glimmer Of coming tears in her
eyes.
What is the matter with the room 2''
she asked. 81 am sure see nothing to
gruinble at. do not think ever looked
in a nicer room than it isr'
Very likely. But, my dear Celia"
continued, with patronizing tone which
must have been infinitely harder TO bear
than even my simple bad temper My
dear Celia, am afraid you have still 3
great deal 10 learn in the matter Of srtis-
tic taste" And / looked around the room
with an expression Of lofty contempt.
~Oh. as FAR as artistic taste goes, Dick,
I am sure YOU are wrong, for Uncle Matt
is ever 50 artistic. Why, he draws and
paints himselfw
have no doubt he Is a second Rarh
gi,r sneered, but be does not know
how to choose his carpets and curtains
Look al that," and shook the folds Of
blue repp sayagely and that r. and
kicked yieiousiy at one Of the blue roses
which, with yellow flower as yet un-
known 10 boianists, meandered over the
carpet in profession. 10 you mean 10
say YOU DO not see the awful vulgariiy Of
it2 But. returning once more 10 the en-
ragingly patronizing tone, you are
Biundeil now, my dear Celia, and you
must just Try TO forget everything you
ever learned as Z Dobson as fast as ever
you can"
Celia fired up with an unexpectedness
which took me absck.
IF you are going TO say nasty things
about my family, Dick, Shall certainly
no, stay 10 listen TO you. If you think
70 little Of the Dobsons, wonder you
married one Of them And as to forget
ting all ever learned as a Dobson-"
By this time the angry tears were run
ming down her cheeks. There is one
thing / was taught which / should be
very sorry TO forget, though it seems 10
have been left out of your education, and
that is gratitude"
My heart and my conscience both
smote me at those words. / said moth
ing. and she turned from the window
and resumed her work with feverish en-
srgy. / could see by the agitated way
IN which the needle was stuck into the
and then snapped out again
that her feelings were very considerably
ruilied.
made one or two attempts at starting
4 new topic Of conversation, but was met
with chilling monosyllables. At last
said
Cecilia, dear, am sorry if l offended
you just now should not have been so
ross if my digestion had not been upset
oy being shut up for nearly three days
\ Rishout exercise, and eating too much
wedding cake"
] tried to finish my sentence with
'emi jocose expression. But got no ar
Iwering smile from Celia.
1t wOnld be much better 10 saddle
he right horse, Dick" she said sternly,
and say that your tempergot the better
If you. We Dobsons may be very in
erior, vulgar race, but thank goodness
We have not got the Blundell temper !"
Oh, very well - | said, shortly. i
zee you wish to quarrel-so l shall leave
'ou TO yourself TO recover your temper,
Dobson or Blundell. whichever it may
De" And ] walked out Of the room,
lamming the door after me, and feeling
lalf sorry and half glad that Celia had
corned the olive branch Of reconcilia-
ion had held out to her.
now had fairly plausible grievance
-at leas, thought had-and thrust
ny arms into my macintosh and took
nv umbrella out of the stand with a
rim satisfaction in the thought that my
,oing out in weather like thst--driven
,nt into it by my wife's obstinate refusal
o make friends-I should probably
,atch bad cold All the dramatic pos
sibilities of this imaginary cold fitted
before my minds eye in pleasing success
iion-chills to the liver-pleurisy-rheu-
matte fever. " Perhaps she will be sorry
hen p Imuitered to myself as l shut the
lall-door behind me, and walked osten-
under the drawing-room win
lows, whis.ling as | went, and striving
% impart to my features perfectly un-
amiable expression. thought
heard 4 tap at the window, and my
name called, but | would not lock up,
md strobe on with as much dignity as /
,ould command.
Once out of view Of the windows
paused TO consider in which direction
should 60 10 look for the pleurisy and
which were TO bring my err
ring wife TO a sense of her misdoings.
I might either 90 down to the sands,
which, as far as could see, outlined the
coast under the dark, 'oyerhanging cliffs,
Or might follow the main road which
passed through the staggling village on
INTO the country beyond. We had come
by ii the night of ogr arrival at St. Bridg-
sts, and | had a vague remembrance of
monotonous, and undulating
towns. But just at this moment the rel
ltiye merits of inland and coast scenery