Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-01-08
CHAPTER XVII. F,rD

Once more the primroses had unrolled their soft crinkled leaves and opened their yellow stars in the hedge-banlzs of Eastmeon. Once more the spring scents rose from the earth, and April sprinkled the velvet mosses with sun. beams and glittering tears. The trees were budding in the old Savoy church yard; the grass and ivy, newly washed with gentle showers, had put on the freshest green and Olive thought of quiet country places far away. Good news came to her from the little vil- lage among the downs. Jane and Aaron were to be married in June, and both were wonderfully happy and well contented with their lot. The free air of his old home had driven Aaron clouds away; grave and quiet man he would always be; but a great deal of his awkward shyness was gone. He was prospering; old Bartlett relied upon him as a son. People had learned to respect him and have confidence in his judgment. Michael had been horn for the city; but Aaron was man who needed the simple influences of rural life.
 Michaels father, the drunken black smith, had possessed a battered cottage and a piece of ground in Eastmcon. The cottage was mere ruin, and the bit of garden was so small and unpro- ductive that when the blacksmith died it was difficult to find another tenant. Michael could not afford to repair the dwelling, and was glad to let it to the first person who was willing to live in it, man well stricken in years and very poor. Busy with his own grand schemes young Chase seldom bestowed a thought on his sorry little property at Eastmeon; but one day there came a letter from a lawyer, saying that client of his desired to buy the land and build a house on it. When this letter came to Michael it afforded him faint gleam of satisfaction.
 Mrs. Michael Chase, after waiting many a day, had married beneath her rather than remain single. Michael was rising man; he was extremely useful to her brother; he had 8 shrewd head and knew how to take care of money. Moreover. he was good-looking and had the art of adapting himself to the society into which fortune had thrown him. His vulgarity was of that subtle kind which only betrays itself on rare occasions; he had no coarse tastes: no love of vice. On the whole, he was 8 wonderfully presentable specimen of the young man who had made his own way; and Miss Battersby was not un- willing to follow her brothers advice and accept him as husband.
 But it is an i'll thing when the wife holds the money-bag and the husband carries an empty pocket. Mrs. Michael had a temper, and felt that there was no need to control it. She did not deny herself the pleasure of reminding Michael of her generosity in keeping him well supplied with cash. She set her foot upon his neck every day of her life.
 To do him justice Michael bore all with exemplary patience. In giving up Olive he had given up the best thing in his life. The chance offered him by the Battersbys had been too splendid to be thrown away, and so he had parted with his pearl of price without hesitation. Olive had developed absurd fancies; she was disposed to undervalue him; it was best to bid her good-by. Neverthe- less, he had not been wholly uncon- scious of her worth.
 Sometimes when Mrs. Michael had been little more exasperating than usual he world call up vision of his old love, with her soft eyes, her gentle voice and her tender hands, all ready to do his bidding. Once in his life he had been loved and he could not forget it.