Year: 1876

leave everything and dress to see her, and
she stayed SO long that my kitchen fire got
low, ,and thought never should get dinner
in time; then Henrylcame home from school
with the carache, and | thought | never
should get him quiet, but did at last. Oh,
dear, such a day as I've had


"Ive brought home the new magazine,
Mary was Franks only response to this long
catalogue of Ills, but his mind ran back over
the tolls Of the day had brought to him, heavy
business anXictics, annOyances that pierce to
the quick, disappointments that involved
more than he cared to compute, and he looked
On his pleasant surroundings with a wisttnl
air, and half wondered why they brought him
so little pleasure. If he had not taken Off
his coat and boots, he would have made an
errand into the street, and dropped into his
| club, where he was sure of meeting half a
dozen Jolly fellows, and hearing only cheer
full and pleasant things But only that night
as he walked through the gathering twilight,
the days Of his courtship and early married
| life, the long evenings he and Mary had
spent in reading Milton and Homer and Scott
| and Plato and Bacon anG Thackery and
| Dickens how he had dreamed that she would
| always be his chosen intellectual companion,
no less than the partner OF his life; but now
she seemed settling into mere nursery maid,





with no other thought than to provide for the
physical well-being Of her household. What
could he do about it? Hewould buy the new
| magazine and read aloud to her, and see if
they couldn't have taste of the old, sweet
wine of their early cOmpanionship
So, as she took up new embroidered
sacquc she was making for the baby. he open
ed to story and asked her if she would not
like to hear it, Why, yes, she'd be very glad
to- she got so little time to read now, there
was SO much sewing to do, and SO many,
things to see to, ard so many interruptiOny
that she never had time to open book,
hardly


Frank was soon in the midst of the story,
but when he read a gorgeous description OF
the buOdor of the heroine, Mary interrupted
him:


'sThat makes me think, Frank, that ",
must have new carpet for our best cham
ber; that's been on the floor ever since we
were married. and it's all faded it will do
| very well for one of the other bedrooms, but
think we must have Il new carpet for that
| room and curtains TO match you know car
pets are cheap now saw an elegant ingram
at SlOans last week, just the thing, and it
wouldn't cost over $50; this room isn't very
large;


went on with his reading, Presently he
looked up inquiringly to Mary, and said,
Tom Bowling, my old college chum- your
cousin Tom, you know!" seeing that Mary
looked little doubtful.


"Why, yes, | guess he does" said Mary,
who had been thinking, not of the story, but
how she would arrange the new curtains and
embroider toilet set to match the carpet.


1t was easy enough to see that the reading
would be a failure, and when the story was
completed, Frank reclined on the lounge and
read to himself "It's no use," he thought,
!" can't get her interested in anything but
trides, and SO Ill 60 back to my club"


So, on the plea of business, Frank absentcd
himself more and more from home, until he
rarely spent an evening with Mary, unless
visitors were present. And she, absorbed in
her domestic cares, careful for his physical
comfort, unconscious that they were SO rap
idly growing apart, gave herself more and
more to her household duties and the con-
slant oversigh of her children.


Handsome children they were, and Mrs. |
Merwin must see that in dress and manners
they were no whit behind their neighbors'
Though she had sewing machine, her needle |
was constantly in use while her husband was |
at home, embroidering or finishing the gar
ments she had prepared in his absence. In |
case there was nothing else, the crochet or
tatting needle filled up all intervals.


Abominable crochet-horrid tatting,
Frank would say to himself, until all the par
aphernalia of tides and lamp-mats, wall-bas-
kets and sofa-pillows became incxpresslbly |
odous to him. eff Mary would only knit up
the raveled sleeve of care which l bring home
daily, with kind personal attentons-if she
would only give me herself, and let me rest
my weary head on her heart. No doubt she
loves me, but that love doesn't satisfy me. l
want sympathy; l want her to 60 with me
above these low-hung skies of care and pet
ty ambition into the clear light of those early,
happy days, when we read and talked so
much together.


CHAPTER IL.


A year or two after the opening of our
story, Mrs. Merwin, worn with constant con-
finement, accepted the invitation of an old
schoolmate, and, taking Minnie, went to Yer
mont to pass the warm days of summer. The
other children remained at home with tried
who would be sure to look af-
ter them carefully. Frank had his club and
would occasionally come to Vermont to pass
The Sabbath during Mrs. Merwin's stay. He
had known Mr.. Banks, the husband of his
wfe's friend, in former days, and had pro-
fessiOnal interchanges of courtesy and busi-
ness with him, as they were both lawyers;
but hitherto there had been no visiting be-
tween the families.


On her arrival at her friends house, Mrs.
Merwin was most cordially received, and
made to feel quite at home. The years that
had separated them since they left school
dwindled into nothing, and they soon were
thought and feeling gaslongyears
before, when they walked ar1n in arm about
The play ground of the old academy. or ram
bled in the park adjoining it. Both had :