The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1892-07-02

if he did not make haste and get away to
Mergui, he must have big row with
Raiton, and tell him what he thought of
him.
He rang the bell, and waited patiently,
for it often took the harassed servant some
time to disengage herself from the mystic
ries below and put on clean apron. But
presently it dawned ON him that, as he was
not expected, the family might be ont.
Then it occurred to him that on such
fine afternoon everybody might be In the
garden. So he walked round to the end
of the road, and up the lane at the back,
counting the shabby brown doors until he
found the right number. The door stood
open, showing the narrow strip of damp
garden. Dennis looked eagerly forward to
see if any one was in it, but before he
could see, he could hear. Only the old
something had gone wrong, and
Lisa was being scolded and sneered at be-
fore the children.
eYou should have had the children
ready in time, and been ready yourself. |
won't wait We have missed one train
already. We ought to be there now.
1T is very unkind of you to leave me
behind"
at is your own fault. You had better
come by the next train.
al will not come alone on visit, and let
every one see how my husband treats me.
Dennis moved away quickly, partly be-
cause he knew what bitter words would
follow Lisa's indignant speech, and he did
not want to hear them, and partly because
he knew the shortest way to the railway
station was through the back garden, and
he did not wish Railton to see him. He
might change his mind, and stop at home,
and Dennis did not want that now; he
wanted to see Lisa, and cheer her little
if he could. He heard the noisy party
troop out, he gave them time to turn the
corner, and then he entered at the gate.
Lisa stood alone in the garden, the early
spring light falling round her seeming to
mock the big tears on her face.
Her surroundings were not poetic. The
little trim rows of cabbage plants and car
rots were sprouting feebly on each side of
her. The damp mould of the path,
sprinkled stingily with few ungainly
pebbles, looked dull and squalid in the
afternoon light; in the background, the
harassed servant was languidly shaking a
duster out of bedroom window.
Dennis stood in the doorway looking at
Lisa. She had on big print apron, and
it was rather dirty; her hair was untidy,
her face tired and flushed, very possibly it
was somewhat dirty, too. But Dennis
West did not see all this-he only saw that,
standing there, she suddenly put up her
hands to her face and broke into helpless,
hopeless tears; then she turned without
seeing him and went into the house, her
head bent, her shoulders shaking with
sobs.
And seeing this, Dennis was filled with
an overmastering pity. 1t was true-as
he had taken pains to make her under
stand-he had quite overcome his old
boyish love; but he had not forgotten his
friendship for the playmate of his child
hood, nor his gratitude to her father and
brothers-who had been brothers and a
father to him-and for friendships sake,
and for gratitude, he would do what he
could for Lisa now.
He could not do much; he could not
change her husband into an ideal lover; he
could not reform her children, nor plant
groves of trees all down Upton street to
improve the prospect; but he could at least
go there oftener than ever to cheer her up.
He could talk over old times with her, play
over old tunes, keep her husband in good
temper, and prevent the children plaguing
her, at least one evening every week; and
he would do so, even if he had to let the
Mergui property go to ruin.
He waited about half an hour, and then
went round to the front of the house and
asked for Lisa He found her patient and
sweet as ever, ready with conventional ex-
cuses for her husbands absence, and not
sign of anger or discomfort on her face,
and finding this, his pity and veneration
for her grew all the deeper.
Dennis not being married, there is no
means of Judging what sort of husband
he would haye made himself; but there is
no limit to one mans Indignation when
another man neglects his wife. Indeed,
however Indifferent man may be towards
his wife, one wonders that, if only for
policy, he does not conceal it before other
men. The sight of sighted wife inVari-
ably raises all that il noble and chiyalrous
in an onlooker, and friendship, founded
on chivalrous devotion on one side and
gratitude on the other, is about the most
dangerous friendship that can exist be-
tween married woman and man not her
husband. 1t assails her on her weakest
and most womanly side-the need of pro-
lection. 1t enlists all his best qualities on
the side of wrong doing, until, while she
thinks she is only grateful, and he only
means to be generous, they drift past all
help.
When Dennis thought everything over
that night, and in his own mind reafirmed
his unspoken resolution to remain in Lon
don for the sake of rendering poor little
Lisa's life as bearable as possible, he went
to sleep with an easy mind, utterly uncon-
scious that any practical person would have
told him that none but fool or a knave
would have made such resolution.
PART II.
The spring, and summer, and autumn had