The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1892-05-13
A REAL AWAKENING.


the face of child, albeit she was twenty
and had been a wife for two years.
A sound of walking drew her blue eyes
| in another direction. A man was coming
| up the walk It was her husband. Did
she run to meet him with words OF well
| come andsa caress from her dimpled armsY
| o, no; he had taught her better than that,
she bitterly thought quickly uncurling
her dainty feet and speeding away to her
kitchen. How gracefully she ran away!
| The motion was like a startled lawns.
But she was peering soberly into the
| stove oven when the kitchen doorway
was darkened by the entrance OF John
Hardy, her husband.
:" Is supper ready?" he asked.
No word of greeting further; no word
| of praise for the pretty, flushed face
nothing but careless glances at the pan OF
crisp, brown mullins she was carrying to
a side table.
Without glancing up she answered:
In few moments, john"
He turned on his heel, going out to
bathe his hot face and hands. Lucille
how well the name suited the dainty, del
icate face-hastily arranging her tea table,
and rang the bell. John came in, sat
down, and silently proceeded to eat, help
ing himself, not noticing the face oppo-
site.
another cup of coffee"
She gave 1t to him, saying, anxiously,
"does everything suit your"
"Yes. Oh, yes" he answered, care
lessly. Still no word of praise. Her face
became downcast. What fool she was
to expect praise for anything she did, she
wearily told herself as she set the dining
room in order. Her husband was at the
door again: "Lucille, have bed ready
when come back. Pm going to the
depot for our new boarder."
"New boarder! Oh, John, to-night"
eyes," and his shadow disappeared
from the doorway.
And this was her first intelligence OF
the fact that John had taken a boarder
for the summer? Oh, why had he not
told her sooner? But this was Johns
way In all things-not to make con-
fidante Of her-and with leaden feet she
went up to the "spare room" to array the
bed in sheets, &c. Otherwise 1t was
always In order. After fresh water had
been brought and fresh towels laid out
she gave a last weary glance around, then
descended to the kitchen again. or
course the stranger would want supper.
81 am 30 tired of it all, she sighed.
I And yet why was she weary and tired?
She was the healthy young wife Of pros
porous young farmer. Either Lucille
| Evans should not have married farmer
or else she should have been educated
with the idea of being farmers wife.
She was village girl, having had all the
exaggerated ideas of such girls of the
| sweets of farm life. John Hardy had
thought her extremely pretty, and had
| obo
manager and capital housekeeper-under
his tuition. II he was satisfied she had
become the two latter in spiritless, plod-
| ding way, unlike what the blithesome
Lucille had been two years ago.
Before she had rekindled the fire the
spring wagon was heard to stop. AS she
hastily blew the pine into q blaze her
husbands voice sounded:
| "Lucille, Mr.. Bellairs must have sup
per-"
"Indeed, no." And Lucille got slowly
| up from her knees and turned about.
| Never had she heard such a singularly
| sweet voice. Mr.. Bellairs had taken in the
situation at a glance. The wife was the
servant here. He would rather go to bed
hungry than add to her toll.
| "My wife," John bad the grace to say.
| Mr.. Beilairs bowed, and Lucille looked
at him dreamily. All! here was a knig htl
81 want nothing 80 much as a bed.
dined at and wish for nothing more till
breakfast"
1 ~Thc room is quite ready" she said in
low, gentle voice. John took up a lamp,
and Mr.. Bellairs bowed "good night"
He glanced hastily about his room.
Everything was exquisitely neat and fra
grant, but he mentally resolved that his
| own strong feet and hands should pump
water and do all that was necessary for
his own comfort. Then he gazed Curl
ously at John. "An OK" he inwardly
decided.
But in this he was wrong. John was
like the majority of Eastern farmers.
Shrewd, sensible, well-read in newspa-
I pcrs, progressive on the farm, but to-
tally misunderstanding woman's life
and q woman's work.
al always try to conform to the rules
of the house where / board. Do you
breakfast at an unearthly hour?" he
laughed
John answered seriously: "Oh, no, we
breakfast just at day."
Mr.. Bellairs receded.
"I had thought s o'clock early"
at may be for you, but not for us.
However, my wife will see that you have
your breakfast at any hour you wish"
"I could not think" he was begin
ming, but John was closing the door on
his retreating form.
1t was 8 o'clock the next morning when
Mr.. Bellairs opened the diping-room
door, where Lucille sat shelling peas.
She glanced up quietly and he bowed
gravely.
at am truly sorry am so late," he mur-
INJURED, guiltily feeling that he was not
sorry bit.
"Oh, my husband told me you would
not want breakfast till s. II you will
kindly sit down will wait on you"
"But tell me, do you not really think
am savage!"
The pretty woman, unused to fiattery
OF Difference, gazed steadily at him.
"Why should II think IL more Chris
tian-like to breakfast at this hour than at
daylight. II God had intended people to
Begin the day before sunrise he would
have made the sun rise earlier"
| A aimple remark N child MIGHT havo