Year: 1875

He laughed again.


"ls there no such thing as credit
Margaret"


She was silent.


Get whatever you want at tht
shops, child. Of course you will bt
as economical as possible; but still
We must live, you know. Once il
three months, or once in six months
III settle the bills. Then whatever
we can have shall 60 toward clearing
off this mortgage that seems to bt
such a bugbear in your eyes"
Il will save in every possible way,
Harry" she said, earnestly. at i;
foolish, 1 suppose, but mortgage i:
a bugbear to me. Father had a
heavy one on his farm, Harry, and
the first thing 1 remember as little
child is seeing him sitting on the
granary staircase near the big barn,
signing and groaning to himself. !
was frightened, and ran and told
mother and she kissed me and be-
gan to cry, because she said the inter
est was due on the mortgage money
that week, and poor father was un-
happy because he could see no way to
pay it"


"And did he pay it?" questioned
Harry, somewhat interested.


"Yes. He borrowed the money
somewhere, and then, of course, there
was the interest to pay on that; and
so it went on, from bad to worse, till
father died, and the farm went back
to its owner. Mother said it had fair
ly worried him into his grave" she
added, wiping the tears from her
eyes. "You cannot wonder if | am
afraid of mortgage, after that"


"But, pet, the two cases are entire
ly different" said her husband, kiss
ing her cheek. "Your father vas a
poor farmer, and found it almost i'm
possible to raise money, | dare say.
Now | am a thriving merchant, and
ifall goes well, | hope to make enough
the coming year to clear our home.
Don't you see? Come don't think of
trouble any more. Be as careful as
you can in the house expenses, and
you will find that we shall own our
pretty home, clear of any claim, be-
fore you know where you are"


He drew her down to the wide
crimson footstool before the fire, and
resting her head upon his knee, be-
gan to read aloud.


The fire and lamp burned clearly,
the pretty French clock on the man.
telpiece ticked musically, and rang
out its fairy hour chimes once before
his voice ceased to echo in her ear.
The book was q lively and pleasant
one, and Margaret was able to dis
cuss it with him intelligently as they
fingered before the blaze for one de-
licious halfhour, before going up
stairs.


Yet all the while her thoughtful
eyes were seeing visions in the Grim
son Goals, and her heart and brain
were busily at work, devising plans
to ward off the evil that, to her,
seemed to be threatening the peace
and comfort of their little dwelling,
so long as any other person held a
claim thereon.


The Ginning bells of the French
clock rang out ten, and Margaret
rose and went about :he room, put
ting it in dainty order before leaving
it for the night. Her pretty face
was blooming and happy as ever, for
at last she saw the way clear before
her to Danish, with the emery God
had given her, this brooding cloud of
evil from their domestic sky.


X X * X x X


As their married life began, SO it
went on. in the new home for nearly
three years. The house expenses
were carefully kept down by Marga-
ret, who made one servant answer
where many of her other friends
kept two; and once in three months,
or oftener in six, as the days went
on, the accounts were settled by the
husband, cheerfully enough at first,
but by and by with sighs and shakes
of the head, which Margaret seemed
not to notice, and of which she Ger
tainly never spoke.


During the last of the three years,
Harry's handsome face began to
wear look of anxious care. Not a
cent, so far, had been laid aside to
pay off the mortgage on their home,
and the chance of success seemed less
than ever to him now. because, like
all others in business, he began to see
a time approaching which would
"try mems souls"


The evening reading was gradually
laid aside, and during the summer
months of the third year Harry be-
gan to sit brooding after tea, in his
arm chair before the empty hearth,
till Margaret, without appearing to
notice his depression, came to him
and induced him to accompany her
on walk. At such times he strobe
along beside her, silent and sad, and
returning to his home buried himself
in the columns of the Bankers Day
Book till it was time TO 60 to bed.


And all this time the true wife
held her peace. She noticed every
thing, she guessed more; but, till the
ice was broken bv him, it was not
her place to speak.


SO it went on till that dreadful
autumn season of crash after crash,
ruin after ruin, old and long estab-
lished houses topping into the gulf,
and carrying a thousand minor ones
sith them in their fall. Men looked
at each other with pale faces, asking.