Los Angeles herald., 1892-07-11
A REAL AWAKENING.

years.
A sound of walking drew her blue eyes
in another direction. A man was COM
ing up the walk. 1t was her husband.
Did she run to meet him with words of
welcome and caress from her dimpled
arms? Oh, 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 awayl The motion was like
startled fawn's. But she was peering
soberly into the stove oven when the
kitchen doorway was darkened by the
entrance of John Hardy, her husband.
sis 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 side table.
Without glancing up she answered,
sIn 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,
delicate face-hastily arranged her tea
table and rang the bell. John came in,
sat down and silently proceeded to eat,
helping himself, not noticing the face
opposite.
"Another cup of coffee"
She gave it to him, saying anxiously,
"Does everything suit your"
eyes. Oh, yes," he answered care
lessly. Still no word of praise. Her
face became downcast. What a fool
she was to expect praise for anything
she did, she wearily told herself as she
set the dining room in order. Her hus-
band was at the door again. Lucille,
have bed ready when come back.
I'm going to the depot for our new
boarder."
"New boarderi Oh, John, tonight?'
"Yes," and his shadow disappeared
from the doorway.
And this was her first intelligence of
the fact that John had taken boarder
for the summer? Oh, why had he not
told her sooner But this was Johns
way in all things--not to make a conf
dant of her-and with leaden feet she
went up to the "spare room" to array
the bed in sheets, etc. Otherwise it was
always in order. After fresh water had
been brought and fresh towels laid out,
she gave last weary glance around,
then descended to the kitchen again. Or
course the stranger would want supper
81 am SO tired Of it ALL" she sighed
And yet why was she weary and tiredi
She was the healthy young wife of a
prosperous young farmer. Either Lu-
cille Evans should not have married a
farmer, or else she should have been ed
ucated 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 thought she would become an excel
lent manager and capital housekeeper
under his tuition If he was satisfied,
she had become the two latter in a spirit
less, plodding way, unlike what the
blithesone Lucille had been two years
ago.
Before she had ralzindled the fire the
spring wagon was heard tostop. AS she
hastily blew the pine into 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 glance. Thefwife was
the servant here. He would rather go
to bed hungry than add to her toll.
"My wife," John had the grace to say.
Mr.. Bellairs bowed and Lucille looked
ct him dreamily. Ahi here was a
knight
81 want nothing 30 much as bed. !
dined at7 ard wish for nothing more
till breakfast"
"The room is quite ready" she said in
"a low, gentle voice.
John took up lamp and Mr.. Bellairs
bowed good night.
He glanced hastily about his room.
Everything was exquisitely neat and
fragrant, but he mentally resolved that
his own strong feet and hands should
pump water and do all that was neees-
sary for his own comfort. Then he
gazed curiously at John. San OK" he
inwardly decided. s
But in this he was wrong. John was
like the majority Of eastern farmers
shrewd, sensible, well read in newspa-
pers, progressive on the farm, but total
1y misunderstanding woman's life and
a woman's work.
II always try to conform to the rules
of the house where board. Do you
breakfast at an unearthly hour?' he
laughed.
John answered seriously, "0h, no; we
breakfast just at day"
MIR. Bellairs receded.
81 had thought 8 o'clock early"
sit may be for you, but not for us.
However, my wife will see that you
have your breakfast at any hour you
wish"
81 could not think he was begin
ming, but John was closing the door on
his retreating form.
It was s o'clock the next morning
when Mr.. Bellairs opened the dining
room door, where Lucille was shelling
peas. She glanced up quickly and he
bowed gravely.
~ am truly sorry am so late," he
murmured, guiltily feeling that he was
not sorry bit.
"Oh, my husband told me you would
not want breakfast till 8. If you will
kindly sit down / will wait on you,n