The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1909-02-04
EARLY
VICTORIAN
BY MURIEL HINE



"Emphatically" His eyes avoided the
pretty flushed face of his wife and
swept the wide drawingToom with an
apprisng glance What more do you
want?'
He threw his hands out with pom
derous gesture that somehow fitted his
stOlid British presence as finely as the
light shrug Of the shoulder fits the
Frenchman, and his face hardened
into obstinate lines
But she said nothing in return.
Stung by her pregnant silence, he
went on; I'm plain city man, with
no pretensions, What was good enough
in my fathers time is good enough for
me. ! don't hold with the present ridi-
culous fashion in houses. It's simply
an excuse for squandering money. My
parents lived here and chose the fur
nlture, and it's all good of its kind
Early Victorian, if you like, but solid
and handsome-far better He
checked himself with an effort under
the sudden temptation TO allude to
the poverty from which he had res
cued his bride but two years since, and
went on hurriedly, with a heightened
color: IT'S no good, Iris, you'll have
70 make it do
But she guessed the trend Of the sen
tence so clumsily suppressed. and her
eyes narrowed with annoyance. as, fol
1r,vinCy hig thnp n
trait on the farther wall that of a
portly lady in a lavender silk dress,
with smoothly parted hair drawn over
| her eyes and bearing the insignia of
| her office, Il massive silver Chatelaine,
which the artist had minutely repro
duced in detail, perhaps in utter
| hopelessness over the hard middle
| class face
Yet, for all that certain look OF
pride crept into her sons eyes as he
gazed up at lhe-so-called -"w work of
art ~
IF you follow her" he said with a
nod, you won't 80 far wrong And
now | must be off
with a third of the money she now
| could claim what a life could have
| been hers in the little fiat by the busy
! gate-what treasures Of art, what
feasts of intellect, For now she had
the means. she lacked the environ
ment
She thought with shudder Of the
! formal dinners their present style
of entertainment invariably took, and,
although she loved her husband. she
rebelled in the depths of her Bohe-
mian heart at the life she had vol
unfairly and even thankfully stepped
into.
But in those days il had meant com
| fort not only for herself. but for the
| practically dying mother and the
peaceful assurance to the latter of the
safety of her child after she herself
had passed through the dark valley.
II had been all for the best
She pulled herself together with an
effort of courage as her mind ran back
| 10 her mothers death,
After the first shock of her grief she
| had given herself up to improving the
gloomy Bloomsbury mansion; picking
UP quaint, inexpensive old chairs, dis
carding the heavier ones. adding
bright artistic chintzcs, and consign
ing the "impossble' curtains to the
depths of the lumber room.
All so quietly and unobtrusively
that her husband from his pinnacle on
| the rock of conservatism had hardly
realized the change until this cvenltul
| day.
Then, through The stupidity of a
| shopman. a fine old dresser had arrived
at the precise moment when Cecil
| Armstrong was leaving for a week
fishing in the north. Explanations had
Been precipitaled, AND the veto had
| gone forth.
Anyhow, she had treasure of d
| cook-that weapon in the hands OF q
wife, and she wondered with a little
| smile of amusement. what the pm
figure with the chatelaine would say
TO the modern cuisine.
| "Extravagant kickshaws, ! expect,
she said to herself and, as if in answer
to her thought. an idea flashed into
her mind, a comedy of revenge agains
| that dcbatable family taste. SO com
plete and alluring that her laugh rams
out in the somber room
II was pouring wet evening Whel
Cecil Armstrong returned to town. The
weather for the last few days ha,
been unsettled. the fishing bad, ant
the first novelty Of 'roughing il hat
given way to steadily growing dis
gust at the discomfort Of perpetual.
wei clothes and smoky fires
| lie leaned back In the hanson ant