Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1892-04-29
CHAPTER VI.


The factory-beII had just rung; it was
noon, and Florence and his young part
ner. George Speed, were strolling leisure
~ through the garden towards the pretty
home they Jointly occupied. They were
talking earnestly on business matters.
You must look out" said Speed, ''or we
shall find the Barclays dangerous rivals"
Florence had no fears; for he knew his
strength, and had had vast experience.
Then, too" he addcd-''but this is con-
fdentiaI: | am on the track Of Il new in
vcntion that viii be fortune in itself
BY this time they had crossed the care
fulIy-kcpt garden. with its acacias almost
as old as the house itself, and It's heavy
walls yelled with dark ivy.
By Georges side Florence looked ike a
clerk rendering an account Of the days
transactions. He stopped every few steps
to finish n sentence. for bis words came
slowly. He had no idea that a pretty
face was looking at him through the
curtains Of an upper window.
Mrs. Florence WAS waiting for her huS-
band to come to luncheon. and was very
impatient at ms delay. She beckoncd tC
him. but Florence did not see her. He was
occupied with the Speed baby. who was
taking the air in the arms Of her nurse. a
mass Of lace and ribbons. How pretty the
little creature wa,
Your very image, Mrs. GeOrGe'
DO you think go! And yet almost
everyone thinks her more Ike her father
"She resembles him. OF rOur5c: but
And all Of them father, mother. Flor
encc, and the gravcIy examined
the atom Of humanity. who looked at
them, III turn. with widc-open, wonder
ing eyes. Sylvia Ieant from her open
window to see what they were all doing
and why her husband did not come up.
Florence had just taken the Iufant in
to his own arms, and STOOD. cnvcl-
oped In the floating robes and blue rib
oons, trying to win smile or a COO Of de
light from the child. He looked like his
grandfather.
How old the poor man is growing!"
thought Sylvia; land how absurd he
looks playing with that baby"
At last, tired Of waiting, she sent her
maid to say that lunch was waiting. Flor
renee consigned the infant to its nurse
with evi lent regret. and ran up the stair
case, laughing like a schoolboy. He
laughed still as he entered the dining
room. but one look at his wife checked his
merIment. She was seated at the table,
and he knew that she was thoroughly
out Of temper by her martyr like air.
You made up your mind to come in at
last. then. How fortunate!"
Florence seated himself, somewhat
abashed.
u could not help it, my dear; that
child is So
"How often am to beg you not to call
me my dear'W
But if we are alone2"
you can never understand anything"
answered his wife impatiently; "and the
result is that no one here pays me the
least respect. Even Tom, the gardener
Aardly touches his hat when l pass him.
To be sure, am not Speed, and l have
no carriage
But NV dear-I beg your pardon-I
brougham. She has told you that it is at
your service whenever you like"
"'And how often am 1 to tell you that 1
will not place myself under any obligation
to that wOmanw
"0h, Sylvan
"Oh, yes; 1 understand I must not
breathe word against this doll. / must
allow her always to tread me under foot!"
My childr
And poor Florence tried to soothe his
wife, and to say few words in favor Of
his dear Mrs George. His success was
not great; for suddenly Sylvia burst into
a voluble torrent of indignation.
Il tell you, in spite of her quiet look
and sanity expression, that woman is
naughty and malicious. She detests me,
and know it. When was little Sylvia,
to whom she could give her broken play
things and cast-of clothes, was all very
well. But now that I have a good po-
sition, and need no assistance from her,
she would like to humiliate me at every
turn. She presumes to volunteer her adj
vice and to criticise everything do. She
was kind enough to express her astonlsh-
ment at my engaging maid-had l not
always been accustomed to waiting upon
myself She seeks every opportunity to
wound and annoy me. When l present
myself on her reception-day, you should
hear the Condescending tone in which she
asks after dear Mrs. Chipp!' All, we'll!
Yes; l am Chip, and she is a Speed.
Ny grandfather was q chemist, and hers
was money-lending tradesman! 1 shall
tell her so one fine day, and shall also
take occasion to mention that the little
girl of whom they are so proud is the
living image of old Gray, and heaven
knows that he is no beautyF
"Sylyia." gasped Florence, who could
find no words to answer such TRADE.
"Yes; admire that baby if you choosef
1t IS always i'll, and cried half the night,
and keeps me awake. In the morning the
mothers piano begins"
Florence adopted the wisest course; he
said not one syllable in reply. But after
while when he saw that his wife was
calmer, and looked little ashamed of her
outbreak. he began to say a few comph-
mcntary words TO her.
That is very pretty dress. Are you
going to pay some calls to-day7"
No; l am not going out" answered
Sylvia. On the contrary receive. This
is my day" Seeing her husbands look
of utter establishment she continued
'Yes; it is my day. Why should 1 not
have day as well as Mrs. Speed7"
.Oh. of course. certainly" muttered
poor Florence, looking about him anxious
| ly. THAT is the reason. then. that there
are so many flowers In the rooms?"
'.Yes. This morning. when l sent Jane
| into the garden-I am wrong again.
| then, am II You do not say so. but l can
! see that you think had no right to send