The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1892-11-19

I tell you l don't believe that story about
our father; and what he finds a GOOD ex-
cuse for shirking now he would always try
to shirk-that is he'll never part with his
precious thousands till he dies, and then
most likely he will bequeath them for the
building of some hospital, so that his name
may be handed down as that of a public
benefactor.
"Sylvia," returned Audrey, ''it is no use
reasoning with you You will have your
own way, know All can say is that 1,
in your place, should be guided by Uncle
Andrews wishes
So the discussion ended, and few weeks
afterward Duncan and were married very
quietly at St. Pancras Church, Cyril Holmes
gave me away, but Audrey did not come
to the wedding. She did not even ask me
what o'clock it was to be.
CHAPTER II,
When Duncan and first settled in our
new home, in an out the-way Stafford
shire village, we found ourselves persons
of considerable Importance. 1t had trans
pired-such things always do transpire-
that DIR. Ferrars had married the niece of
Sir Andrew Alison, the great railway con-
tractor. and this fact cast around us halo
reflected from my uncle's well-known name
and wealth Many of the county digni-
taries called on US, and l found myself
treated with Difference by my neighbors in
the village. Our new circle, however, was
not long in discovering that between the
man of millions and his niece yawned a
gulf which neither had any intention of
bridging over, and the great expectations
which had attended our installation shrank
away disgusted before our diminutive and
establishment.
These social questions did not trouble
us. Duncan was glad to be able to devote
all his spare time and attention to scientific
reading and experiments, and did not want
to get into the swim of local gayeties.
Unfortunately, he found more time for
reading than he cared to bestow on it; be
sides which, his practice was so scattered
through the lonely moorland farms and
hamlets, that hard days work was far
from being a remunerative one.
| tried not to grow faint-hearted as we
realized that the investment,
which had absorbed nearly all our capital,
was mistake. | gave myself every pos
sible trouble with housekeeping, in which,
of course, was by no means an expert;
and, in order to make both ends meet, |
calculated every halfpenny with a parsi-
mony which would have done credit to
Uncle Andrew.
1t availed me nothing, the ends did not
meet. Every week there was a wider gap
between the limit of the money and the
limit of the needs. l soon found that l
had to forego every little luxury myself
and that Duncan must be deprived also,
and after had reduced my domestic staff
to the smallest possible apology for maid
of-all work my poor husband dismissed the
stable boy and took the Office of groom on
his own shoulders.
l can see it all now; how when he came
in from a long tiring round, on muddy,
dark afternoon, | used to seat myself on
the cornbin holding the stable lantern
while he served his apprenticeship as a
hostler. We tried to make joke of it,
but our laughter was only make-believe,
for in spite of everything we were getting
into difficulties; and the suave consideration
with which my first orders had been receiv-
ed by the local tradesmen had given place
to disdainful inattention and aggressive
demands for settlement of fastgrowing ac-
counts The butcher was appeased at the
cost of my pearl set, which had once be
my mothers, and then I used every pre-
caution not to get into his black books
again. This meant that we had to bevery
sparing with beef and mutton until better
times came.
But better times did not come, or at least
did not come permneantly. Life was one
incessant struggle, until sometimes felt
as if it would be useless to struggle any
more.
Audrey wrote to me with tolerable regu-
larity, but she did not ask any searching
questions, and vas too proud to confde
in her. If she could believe that story
about our father, and that Uncle Andrew
was justified in what he had done regard
ing my marriage, she and | could never be
on confidential footing again-besides,
such confidence might have looked like
an indirect appeal for help, and We had not
yet fallen so low as that.
One day-it was the second Winter of
our marriage, and baby was three months
old sat in the sitting room with my
account books before me. | had been a
long while i'll, and still longer, 50 that there
was terrible accumulation of liabilities to
be Investigated, and the prospect was not
very encouraging. | had no trinkets left
wherewith to cover a deficit, and my few
pretty wedding presents had followed in
the train of my jewelry.
As l sat thus with throbbing head and
a shawl round me to make up for the mea-
gerness of the fire, there came an imposing
rap and ring at the street door.
| scarcely ever had any callers then
the halo of importance had long faded and