Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1890-01-17

life that should be denied my only consoa-
ton. These shameful prochvities must be
trod down; we are already n mark and an
eyesore in the neighborhood; | will not en-
dure this fresh insanity"
II cannot afford it," says Mr.. Henry.
"Affordf" sho cried. For shame But /
have money of my own"
THAT is all mine, madame, by marriage
he snarled, and instantly left the room.
My old lord threw up his hands to heaven,
and he and his daughter, withdrawing to the
chimney, gave mo "A broad hint to be gone.
found Mr.. Henry in his usual retreat, the
stewards room, perched on the end of the
table and pluuging his penknife into it, with
very ugly countenance.
"AIr. Henry" said l, "you do yourself too
much injustice; and it is time this should
cease"
"Ohl" cries he, "nobody minds here. They
think it only natural. have shameful pro
clivities. | am a niggardly dog" and he
drove his knife mp to the hilt "But will
show that fellow" he cried, with an oath, Il
will show him which is the more generous"
"This is no generosity" said l, "this is only
pride"
''Do you think want morality?' he asked.
l thought he wanted help, and | should
Mrs. Henry gone to her room than | pre-
sented myself at her door and sought admit
lance
She openly showed her wonder. "What
do you want with me, Mr.. MackelarY' said
she.
"The Lord knows, madam" says |. 81
have never troubled you before with any free
doms; but this thing lies too hard upon my
conscience, and it will out. Is it possible that
two people can be SO blind as you and NV
lord! and have lived all these years with a
noble gentleman like Mr. Henry, and under.
stand so little of his nature?'
What does this mean" she cried.
DO you not know where his money goes
to? his-and yours-and the money for the
very wine he does not drink at tablcl' | went
on ITO Paris-to that mani Eight thou.
sand pounds has he had of us in seven years,
and my patron fool enough to keep it secret.n
Eight thousand pounds!p She repeated.
ut is impossible the estate is not sufficient. u
God knows how we have sweated far.
things to produce it." said l. "But eight
thousand and sixty is the sum, beside odd
shillings. And if you can think my patron
misery after that, this shall be my last inter.
ference"
You need say no more, Mr. Mackellar. v
said she. you have done most properly in
what you too modestly call your interfer-
ence. am much to blame; you must think
me indeed a very unobservant wife"-1ool-
ing upon me with a strange smile)--"but |
shall put this right at once. The master was
always OF very thoughtless nature; but his
heart is excellent; he is the soul of gener-
osity l shall write to him myself You
cannot think how you have panied me by
this communication
Indeed, madame, l had hoped to have
pleased YOU" said |, for | ragged to see her
still thin king of the master.
And pleased" said she, land pleased me
of course"
That same day will not say but what l
watched had tho satisfaction to see Mr.
Henry come from his wife's room in state
most unlike himself; for his face was all
bloated with weeping, and yet he seemed to
me to walk upon the air By this was sure
his wife had made him full amends for once
"Ah," thought l to myself, II have done
brave stroke this day
On the morrow, as | was seated at my
books Mr.. Henry came in softly behind me.
took me by the shoulders ani shook me in a
manner of playfulness. Il find you are
faithless fellow after all he, which was
his only reference to my part, but the tone
he spoke in was more TO me than any elo-
quence Of protestation. Nor was this all |
had effected; for when the next messenger
came las he did not long afterwartD from the
master, he got nothing away with him but
letter. For some while back it had been
myself who had conducted these affairs. Mr.
Henry not setting pen to paper, and | only
III the dryesc and most formal terms. But
thls letter dld not even see; it would scarce
be pleasant reading, for Mr.. Henry felt he
had his wife behind him for once, and OBJ
served, on the day it was dispatched, be had
very gratihed expression.
Things went better now in the family.
though it could scarce be pretended they
went well. There was now at least no mis-
conception; there was kindness upon all sides,
and believe my patron and his wife might
again have drawn together if he could but have
pocketed his pride, and she forgot (what was
the ground of alb her broodlng on another
man. 1t is wonderful how a private thought
leaks out; it is wonderful to me now how we
should all have followed the current of her
sentiments; and though she bore herself uui-
city, and had very even disposition, vet we
should have known whenever her fancy ran
to Paris. And would not any one have
thought that my disclosure must have rooted
up that idol! | think there is the devil in
women; all these years passed, never a sight
of the man, little enough kindness to remem-
Der 10y all accounts even while she had him,
the notion OF his death intervening, his heart
less rapacity laid bare tr) her: that all should
not do, and she must still keep the best place
in her heart for this accursed fellow is a
thing to make plain man rage had never
much natural sympathy for the passion of
love, but this unreason in my patrons wife
disguised me outright with the whole matter
remember checking a maid because she
sung some bairnly kickshaw while my mind
was thus engaged; and my asperity brought
about my ears the enmity of all the petticoats
about the house, Of which | rocked very lit
tie, but it amused Mr., Henry, who rallied
me much upon our joint unpopularty. 1t is
strange enough dor my own mother was ce.-
tainly one of the salt of the EARTH and my
Aunt Dickson, who paid my fees at the uni
versity, very notable womanl, but | have
never had much liberation for the female
sex, possibly not much understanding, and
being far from bold man ! have ever
stunned their company Not only do | see
no cause to regret this dihldence in myself,
but have invariably remarked the most un-
happy consequences follow those who We're