The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1892-04-12

You can't be in earnest, Dotty /"
said Ralph Imray.
But l am in earnest" protested
Dorothy, his wife. "Why shouldn't I
bein earnestF"
Mr.. >Imray laid down the pen with
which he had been following a long
column of figures. He was a bank &C
countans, and sometimes eked out his
small salary by bringing home the
books of nighboring firms to post after
his regular days work was over.
He looked intently at Dorothy. Nor
was she by any means a disagreeable
object to behold, as she sat by the
shaded lamp, stitching away at a piece
of yellow China silk which emphasized
her purple black masses Of silky hair
and the jetty light of her long dashed
eyes.
Somepeople, to Judge by appearances,
are born kitchen maids; others are
~princesses. And Dorothy Imray, albeit
her father was a master carpenter and
her husband a bank clerk, was one
of natures aristocrats-slim taper
fingered and swan-throated, with a
delicate complexion and a profile that
remined one of a Roman cameo.
"Why shouldn't you be in earnestG"
repeated Ralph. Because, Dotty,
there's a fitness in all things. A poor
mans wife has no business to wear
diamonds"
MRS. Clifford wears them!" petu-
lantly retorted Dorothy. "And Job
Clifford doesn't get any higher salary
than you do"
but her father is a man of means,
Dotty."
And Luella Dixon has the loveliest
lace-bar! She showed it to me yester,
day"
Dixon and I differ materially in our
financial ideas, observed Imray, shrug-
ging his shoulders. eff a man owes
money, I, for one, don't regard it as a
very smart thing for his wife to be
Haunting around in costly jewels.
Come, Dot, give up the idea. Twenty
years from now 1 may be able to give
you diamonds"
Dorothy pouted. She sewed away
with little, swift jerks of the needle.
Twenty years from now I shall be
an old woman" she uttered.
Mr.. Imray laughed.
IN risk that, said he. "No, Dotty,
if my wife were to come out in a pair
of diamond a rings, my employers
would be quite justified in scrutinizing
my accounts. The topaz ornament I
gave you at Jul wedding were good
enough for you then. Why can't you
be contented with them now9"
Dorothy answered not a word. The
needle seemed like a scimetar in the
lamplight; the rose-red lips were tightly
compressed; and Ralph resumed his
pen, with a sigh.
Dotty had ''got into society" lately,
and the little home had never recovered
it's pleasant old-time aspect since.
Mrs. Job Clifford and Luella Dixon
were her models now, instead of kind
Aunt Rhoda and the rector's pretty
young wife.
The next day Mrs. Dixon called,
dressed in a fantastic combination suit,
with a French hat, and a real lace scarf
twisted loosely around her neck.
well Dorothy" began she, "what
did he say9' Mrs. Imray's pretty face
gloomed over.
Just what 1 expected" said she.
"Of course he won't give me the dia,
monds. might have known that be
forehand."
Don't be discouraged, dear" said
Mrs. Dixon, with a furtive glance. 81
can suggest a plan. Are we quite
alonei"
Dorothy looked surprised.
eyes" said she. Bridget has gone
to market, and there is no one else on
this floor"
Mrs. Dixon drew her chair close tC
Dorothy's sofa.
"Listen!" she whispered. How
much money have youG"
Twenty dollars of my own" Dor
othy answered, land forty that Ralph
left to pay the agent III rent. That's
sixty. And there's fifteen thai
Rhoda sent me to match
AIDED silk with