Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-12-16

Il ! blast than usual shook the windows and roared down the chimney. ''I hope it isn't any difficulty in his business mat. ters. He has looked very grave lately" The words had scarcely passed through her mind when the door opened, and Mr. Raymond entered He did not speak to his wife as usual.
 deorge' are you i'll, dearest2 What is the matter?"
 He made no reply. She rose and came to his side, reiterating her inquiries.
 Ask me no questions, Cicely," he said at length, in tone so strangely altered that she started at it's sound You will learn evil tidings soon | enough"
 "Tell me, my husband. Are not my joys yours, your sorrows mine? Surely we have not ceased to be one?n 'Cicely," he said, rising, ''I did not intend to cloud your happy brow with my griefs; but it is too late longer to dissemble. l had hoped, dearest, to outride this storm of disaster, which has wrecked so many of our wealthiest merchants in It's whirlpool of failure. Tomorrow, however, & heavy payment falls due. had relied on receiving debts which would fully liquidate the amount, instead of which, have heard to-day of the failure of the firm on which I had so wholly depended" ''But can the amount be raised in no other way, GeorgeP"
 By borrowing here and thereby straining my credit to the utmost and scraping together every dollar of avail able funds, can raise the sum, all ex- cept one thousand dollars. But 1t might as we'll be one hun dred thousand dollars. Unless the whole amount is met, I am a ruined, disgraced man. To think that my whole future life should be darkened for want of one thousand dollars!"
 'And is that all you lack2' asked his wife.
 ''Allr' he replied. But what is the use of dwelling further upon it. ap- preciate your sympathy, Cicely, but it is l vain"
 He sank back on the sofa, clasping his hands on his closed eyes. He must have lain there motionless for five or six minutes, when Cicely, who had left the room, returned, and laid her soft hand on his forehead. Dearest, look up moment. Do you remember our childhood's fable of the lion who was released from the net by | a little mouse's tiny endeavors?' "What of it?" he asked, with a vague apprehension that Cicely's wits had been a little unsettled by the sudden news of their impending mis- fortune.
 "Well, am the little mouse-you the shared lion. Here is the sum you want. Take 1t, and may it prove useful in your | time of need!''
 Hesat suddenly upright, staring alter nate1y at her and the roll of neatly fold ed greenbacks.
 ''But, Cissy, how-when -?" "Dear George, saved it from my al- lowance," she replied. T thought per- haps the day might come when it would be welcome. Believe me, my husband, it gives me ten thousand-fold more pleasure to place it in your hands than to have expended it in waste, or on | any thing that I did not absolutely require"
 My darling wifer' faltered George Raymond, ''you have preserved me from ruin. This crisis once passed, can bid | defiance to misfortune" At that moment Cicely seemed to him to wear the lovely guise of an angel of rescue. Later in the evening, as she sat by his side, she could not forbear whispering, with touch of loving mis- chief in her voice: "George. who was right about my financial abilities, you | or I?''
 ''You little tease!" said he, laughing. "I never realized before whata blessing it is to have an economical wife "-Anns i Ravensdale. in N. Y. Weekly.