T'-s- 
 
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 CORNELL 
 
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 LIBRARY 
 
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 A. H. Wright 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PS 2727.H4 1886 
 
 He fell In love with his wife 
 
 3 1924 022 001 584 
 
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 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924022001 584 
 
He Fell in Love with His Wife 
 
 BV 
 
 EDWARD P. 
 
 P. ROE 
 
 AUTHOR OF "BARRIERS BURNED AWAY," "NATURE'S 
 SERIAL STORV," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DODD, MEAD, AND COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
T5 
 
 Copyright, iS86, 
 By DODD, mead, AND COMPANY. 
 
 ELECTROTYPED AND PRINTED 
 
 BY RAND, AVERY, AND COMPANY, 
 
 BOSIOH. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. Left alone i 
 
 II. A Very Interested Friend lo 
 
 III. Mrs. Mumpson negotiates and yields 20 
 
 IV. Domestic Bliss 31 
 
 V. Mrs. Mumpson takes up her Burdens 39 
 
 VI. A Marriage? 49 
 
 VII. From Home to the Street 58 
 
 VIII. Holcroft's View of Matrimony 64 
 
 IX. Mrs. Mumpson accepts her Mission 72 
 
 X. A Night of Terror , . 82 
 
 XL Baffled 89 
 
 XII. Jane loi 
 
 XIII. Not Wife, but W^if 112 
 
 XIV. A Pitched Battle 119 
 
 XV. "What is to become of me?" 127 
 
 XVI. Mrs. Mumpson's Vicissitudes 136 
 
 XVII. A Momentous Decision 149 
 
 XVIIL Holcroft gives his Hand 159 
 
 XIX. A BysiNESs Marriage 170 
 
 XX. Uncle Jonathan's Impression of the Bride .... 180 
 
 XXI. At Home 188 
 
 XXII. Getting acquainted . . '. 197 
 
 XXIII. Between the Past and Future 208 
 
IV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXIV. Given her Own Way 221 
 
 XXV. A Charivari 233 
 
 XXVI. " You don't know " . . . ^ . . "246 
 
 XXVII. Farm and Farmer bewitched 258 
 
 XXVIII. Another Waif 270 
 
 XXIX. Husband and Wife in Trouble 283 
 
 XXX. HoLCROFT's Best Hope 296 
 
 XXXI. "NeverI" 308 
 
 XXXII. Jane plays Mouse to the Lion 319 
 
 XXXIII. "Shrink FROM You?" 329/ 
 
HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 LEFT ALONE. 
 
 THE dreary March evening is rapidly passing from murky 
 gloom to obscurity. Gusts of icy rain and sleet are 
 sweeping full against a man who, though driving, bows his 
 head so low that he cannot see his horses. The patient 
 beasts, however, plod along the miry road, unerringly taking 
 their course to the distant stable door. The highway some- 
 times passes through a grove on the edge of a forest, and 
 the trees creak and groan as they writhe in the heavy blasts. 
 In occasional groups of pines ,there is sighing and moaning 
 almost human in suggestiveness of trouble. Never had 
 Nature been in a more dismal mood, never had she been 
 more prodigal of every element of discomfort, and never 
 had the hero of my story been more cast down in heart and 
 hope than on this chaotic day which, even to his dull fancy, 
 appeared closing in harmony with his feelings and fortune. 
 He is going home, yet the thought brings no assurance of 
 welcome and comfort. As he cowers upon the seat of his 
 market wagon, he is to the reader what he is in the fading 
 light, — a mere dim outline' of a man. His progress is so 
 slow that there will be plenty of time to relate some facts 
 about him which will make the scenes and events to follow 
 more intelligible. 
 
2 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 James Holcroft is a middle-aged man and the owner of a 
 small, hilly farm. He had inherited his rugged acres from 
 his father, had always lived upon them, and the feeling had 
 grown strong wifh the lapse of time that he could live nowhere 
 else. Yet he knew that he was, in the vernacular of the 
 region, "going down hill." The small savings of years were 
 slowly melting away, and the depressing feature of this truth 
 was "that he ■ did not see how he could help himself He 
 was not a sanguine man, but rather one endowed with a hard, 
 practical sense which made it clear that the down-hill pro- 
 cess had only to continue sufficiently long to leave him land- 
 less and penniless. It was all so distinct on this dismal 
 evening that he groaned aloud. 
 
 " If it comes to that, I don't know what I'll do — crawl 
 away on a night like this and give up, like enough." 
 
 Perhaps he was right. When a man with a nature like 
 his " gives up," the end has come. The low, sturdy o^ks 
 that grew so abundantly along the road were types of his 
 character, — they could break, but not bend. He had little 
 suppleness, little power to adapt himself to varied condi- 
 tions of life. An event had occurred a year since, which, 
 for months, he could only contemplate with dull wonder and 
 dismay. In his youth he had married the daughter of a 
 small farmer. Like himself, she had always been accus- 
 tomed to toil and frugal living. From childhood she had 
 been impressed with the thought that parting with a dollar 
 was a serious matter, and to save a dollar one of the good 
 ■ deeds rewarded in this hfe and the hfe to come. She and 
 her husband were in complete harmony on this vital point. 
 Yet not a miserly trait entered into their humble thrift. It 
 was a necessity entailed by their meagre resources ; it was 
 inspired by the wish for an honest independence in their old 
 age. 
 
 There was to be no old age for her. She took a heavy 
 
LEFT ALONE. 3 
 
 cold, and almost before her husband was aware of her dan- 
 ger, she had left his side. He was more than grief-stricken, 
 he was appalled. No children had blessed their union, and 
 they had become more and more to each other in their 
 simple home life. To many it would have seemed a narrow 
 and even a sordid life. It could not have been the latter, 
 for all their hard work, their petty economies and plans to 
 increase the hoard in the savings bank were robbed of sor- 
 didness by an honest, quiet affection for each other, by 
 mutual sympathy and a common purpose. It undoubtedly 
 was a meagre life which grew narrower with time and habit. 
 There had never been much romance to begin with, but 
 something that often wears better, — mutual respect and 
 affection. From the first, James Holcroft had entertained 
 the sensible hope that she was just the girl to help him make 
 a living from his hillside farm, and he had not hoped for or 
 even thought of very much else except the harmony and 
 good comradeship which bless people who are suited to 
 each other. He had been disappointed in no respectj they 
 had toiled and gathered like ants ; they were confidential 
 partners in the homely business and details of the farm ; 
 nothing was wasted, not even time. The little farmhouse 
 abounded in comfort, and was a model of neatness and 
 order. If it and its surroundings were devoid of grace and 
 ornament, they were not missed, for neither of its occupants 
 had ever been accustomed to such things. The years 
 which passed so uneventfully only cemented the union and 
 increased the sense of mutual dependence. They would 
 have been regarded as exceedingly matter-of-fact and un- 
 demonstrative, but they were kind to each other and under- 
 stood each other. Feeling that they were slowly yet surely 
 getting ahead, they looked forward to an old age of rest, 
 and a sufficiency for their simple needs. Then, before he 
 could realize the truth, he was left alone at her wintry grave ; 
 
4 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 neighbors dispersed after the brief service, and he plodded 
 baclc to his desolate home. There was no relative to step 
 in and partially make good his loss. Some of the nearest 
 residents sent a few cooked provisions until he could get 
 help, but these attentions soon ceased. It was believed 
 that he was abundantly able to take care of himself, and he 
 was left to do so. He was not exactly unpopular, but had 
 been much too reticent and had lived too secluded a life to 
 find, uninvited, sympathy now. He was the last man, how- 
 ever, to ask for sympathy or help ; and this was not due to 
 misanthropy, but simply to temperament and habits of life. 
 He and his wife had been sufficient for each other, and the 
 otitside world was excluded chiefly because they had no 
 time or taste for social interchanges. As a result, he suffered 
 serjous disadvantages ; he was misunderstood and virtually 
 left to meet his calamity alone. 
 
 But, indeed, he could scarcely have met it in any other 
 jvay. Even to his wife, he had never formed the habit of 
 speaking freely of his thoughts and feelings. There had 
 ceen no. need, so complete was the understanding between 
 them. A hint, a sentence, revealed to each other their sim- 
 ple and limited processes of thought. To talk about her 
 now to strangers was impossible. He had no language by 
 which to express the heavy, paralyzing pain in his heart. 
 
 For a time he performed necessary duties in a dazed, 
 mechanical way. The horses and live stock were fed regu- 
 larly, the cows milked ; but the milk stood in the dairy room 
 until it spoiled. Then he would sit down at his desolate 
 hearth and gaze for hours into the fire, until it sunk down 
 and died out. Perhaps no class in the world suffer from 
 such a terrible sense of loneliness as simple-natured, country 
 people, to whom a very few have been all the company they 
 required. 
 
 At last Holcroft partially shook off his stupor, and began 
 
. LEFT ALONE. 5 
 
 the experiment of keeping house and maintaining his dairy 
 with hired help. For a long year he had struggled on 
 through all kinds of domestic vicissitude, conscious all the 
 time that things were going from bad to worse. His house 
 was isolated, the region sparsely settled, and good help dif- 
 ficult to be obtained under favoring auspices. The few 
 respectable women in the neighborhood who occasionally 
 " lent a hand " in other homes than their own would not 
 compromise themselves, as they expressed if, by " keepin' 
 house for a widower." Servants obtained from the neigh- 
 boring town either could not endure the loneliness, or else 
 were so wasteful and ignorant, that the farmer, in sheer 
 desperation, discharged them. The silent, grief-stricken, 
 rugged-featured man was no company for any one. The 
 year was but a record of changes, waste and small pilferings. 
 Although he knew he could not afford it, he tried the device 
 of obtaining two women instead of one, so that they might 
 have society in each other ; but either they would not stay 
 or else he found that he had two thieves to deal with, instead 
 of one, — -brazen, incompetent creatures who knew more 
 about whiskey than milk, and who made his home a terror 
 to him. 
 
 Some asked, good-naturedly, " Why don't you marry 
 again?" Not only was the very thought repugnant, but he 
 knew well that he was not the man to thrive on any such 
 errand to the neighboring farmhouses. Though apparently 
 he had little sentiment in his nature, yet the memory of his 
 wife was like his religion. He felt that he could not put an 
 ordinary woman into his wife's place, and say to her the 
 words he had spoken before. Such a marriage would be to 
 him a grotesque farce, at which his soul revolted. 
 
 At last he was driven to the necessity of applying for help 
 to an Irish family that had recently moved into the neigh- 
 borhood. The promise was forbidding, indeed, as he en- 
 
6 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 tered the squalid abode in which were huddled men, women 
 and children. A sister of the mistress of the shanty was 
 voluble in her assurances of unlimited capability. 
 
 "Faix I kin do all the wourk, in doors and out, so I 
 takes the notion," she had asserted. 
 
 There certainly was no lack of bone and muscle in the 
 big, red-faced, middle-aged woman who was _ so ready to 
 preside at his hearth and glean from his diminished dairy a 
 modicum of profit; but as he trudged home along the 
 wintry road, he experienced strong feelings of disgust at 
 the thought of such a creature sitting by the kitchen fire in 
 the place once occupied by his wife. 
 
 During all these domestic vicissitudes he had occupied 
 the parlor, a stiff, formal, frigid apartment, which had been 
 rarely used in his married life. He had no inclination for the 
 society of his help ; in fact, there had been none with whom 
 he could associate. The better class of those who went out 
 to service could find places much more to their taste than 
 the lohely farmhouse. The kitchea had been the one cosey, 
 cheerful room of the house, and, driven from it, the farmer 
 was an exile in his own home. In the parlor, he could at 
 least brood over the happy past, and that was about all the 
 so'lace he had left. 
 
 Bridget came and took possession of her domain with a 
 sang fr old ^\\\c!n. appalled Holcroft from the first. To his 
 directions and suggestions, she curtly informed him that she 
 knew her business and "didn't want no mon around, order- 
 in' and interferin'." 
 
 In fact, she did appear, as she had said, capable of any 
 amount of work, and usually was in a mood to perform it ; 
 but soon her male relatives began to drop in to smoke a 
 pipe with her in the evening. A little later on, the supper- 
 table was left standing for those who were always ready to 
 " take a bite." The farmer had never heard of the camel 
 
LEFT ALONE. 7 
 
 who first got his head into the tent, but it gradually dawned 
 upon him that he was half supporting the whole Irish tribe 
 down at the shanty. Every evening, while he shivered in 
 his best room, he was compelled to hear the coarse jests and 
 laughter in the adjacent apartment. One night his bitter 
 thoughts found expression : " I might as well open a free 
 house for the keeping of man and beast." 
 
 He had endured this state of affairs for some time simply 
 because tlie woman did the essential work in her off-hand, 
 slap-dash style, and left him unmolested to his brooding as 
 long as he did not interfere with her ideas of domestic 
 economy. But his impatience and the sense of being 
 wronged were producing a feeling akin to desperation. 
 Every week there was less and less to sell from the dairy ; 
 chickens and eggs disappeared, and the appetites of those 
 who dropped in to " kape Bridgy from bein' a bit lonely " 
 grew more voracious. 
 
 Thus matters had drifted on until this March day when 
 he had taken two calves to market. He had said to the 
 kitchen potentate that he would take supper with a friend in 
 town and therefore would not be back before nine in the 
 evening. This friend was the official keeper of the poor- 
 house and had been a crony of Holcroft's in early life. He 
 had taken to politics instead of farming, and now had at- 
 tained to what he and his acquaintances spoke of as a 
 " snug berth." Holcroft had maintained with this man a 
 friendship based partly on business relations, and the well- 
 to-do purveyer for paupers always gave his old playmate an 
 honest welcome to his private supper table, which differed 
 somewhat from that spread for the town's pensioners. 
 
 On this occasion the gathering storm had decided Hol- 
 croft to return without availing himself of his friend's hos- 
 pitality, and he is at last entering the lane leading from the 
 highway to his dooryard. Even as he approaches his dwell- 
 
8 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 ing he hears the sound of revelry and readily guesses what 
 is taking place. 
 
 Quiet, patient men, when goaded beyond a certain point, 
 are capable of terrible ebullitions of anger, and Holcroft 
 was no exception. It seemed to him that night that the 
 God he had worshipped all his life was in league with man 
 against him. The blood rushed to his face, his chilled 
 form became rigid with a sudden, passionate protest against 
 his misfortunes and wrongs. Springing from the wagon, he 
 left his team standing at the barn door and rushed to the 
 kitchen window. There before him sat the whole tribe from 
 the shanty, feasting at his expense. The table was loaded 
 with coarse profusion. Roast fowls alternated with fried 
 ham and eggs, a great pitcher of milk was flanked by one 
 of foaming cider, while the post of honor was occupied by 
 the one contribution of his self-invited guests — a villanous 
 looking jug. 
 
 They had just sat down to the repast when the weazen- 
 faced patriarch of the tribe remarked, by way of grace, it 
 may be supposed, " Be jabers, but isn't ould Holcroft givin' 
 us a foine spread the noight ! Here's bad luck to the glow- 
 erin' ould skin-flint," and he poured out a bumper from the 
 
 jug- 
 
 The farmer waited to see and hear no more. Hastening 
 to a parlor window, he raised it quietly and clambered in : 
 then taking his rusty shot gun, which he kept loaded for the 
 benefit of the vermin that prowled about his hqn-roost, he 
 burst in upon the startled group. 
 
 " Be off ! " he shouted. " If you value your lives, get out 
 of that door, and never show your faces on my place again. 
 I'll not be eaten out of house and home by a lot of jackals." 
 
 His weapon, his dark, gleaming eyes and desperate aspect, 
 taught the men that he was not to be trifled with a moment, 
 and they slunk away. 
 
LEFT ALONE. g 
 
 Bridget began to whine. "Yez wouldn't turn a woman 
 out in the noight and storm,'' — 
 
 " You are not a woman ! " thundered Holcroft, " you are 
 a jackal too ! Get your traps and begone ! I warn the 
 whole lot of you to beware ! I give you this chance to get 
 off the premises, and then I shall watch for you all, old and 
 young ! " 
 
 There was something terrible and flame like in his anger, 
 dismaying the cormorants, and they hastened away with 
 such alacrity that Bridget went down the lane screaming, 
 " Sthop, I tell yees, and be afther waitin' for me." 
 
 Holcroft hurled the jug after them with words that 
 sounded like an imprecation. He next turned to the viands 
 on the table with an expression of loathing, gathered them 
 up and carried them to the hog-pen. He seemed possessed 
 by a feverish .impatience to banish every vestige of those 
 whom he had driven forth, and to restore the apartment 
 as nearly as possible to the aspect it had worn in former 
 happy years. At last, he sat down where hiswife had been 
 accustomed to sit, unbuttoned his waist-coat and flannel 
 shirt and from against his naked breast took an old, worn 
 daguerreotype. He looked a moment at the plain, good 
 face reflected there, then, bowing his head upon it, strong, 
 convulsive sobs shook his frame, though not a tear moist- 
 ened his eyes. 
 
 How long the paroxysm would have lasted it were hard 
 to say, had not the impatient whinnying of his horses, still 
 exposed to the storm, caught his attention. The life-long 
 habit of caring for the dumb animals in his charge asserted 
 itself. He went out mechanically, unharnessed and stabled 
 them as carefully as ever before in his life, then returned 
 and wearily prepared himself a pot of coffee, which, with a 
 crust of bread, was all the supper he appeared to crave. 
 
lO HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A VERY INTERESTED FRIEND. 
 
 FOR the next few days, Holcroft lived alone. The 
 weather, remained inclement and there was no occa- 
 sion for him to go farther away than the barn and out- 
 buildings. He felt that a crisis in his Kfe was approaching, 
 that he would probably be compelled to sell his property 
 for what it would bring, and begin life again under different 
 auspices. 
 
 " I must either sell or marry," he groaned, " and one's 
 about as hard and bad as the other. Who'll buy the place 
 and stock at half what they're worth, and where could I 
 find a woman that would look at an old fellow like me, even 
 if I could bring myself to look at her? " 
 
 The poor man did indeed feel that he was shut up to 
 dreadful alternatives. With his ignorance of the world, and 
 dislike for contact with strangers, selling out and going away 
 was virtually starting out on an unknown sea without j-udder 
 or compass. It was worse than that — it was the tearing 
 up of a life that had rooted itself in the soil whereon he 
 had been content from childhood to middle age. He would 
 suffer more in going, and in the memory of what- he had 
 parted with, than in any of the vicissitudes which might 
 overtake him. He had not much range of imagination or 
 feeling, but within his limitations his emotions were strong 
 and his convictions unwav-ering.- Still, he thought it might 
 be possible to live in some vague, unknown place, doing 
 
A VERY INTERESTED FRIEND. II 
 
 some kind of work for people with wliom he" need not have 
 very much to do. " I've always been my own master, and 
 done things in my own way," he muttered, " but I suppose 
 I could farm it to suit some old, quiet people, if I could 
 only find 'em. One thing is certain, anyhow, — I couldn't 
 stay here in Oakville, and see another man living in these 
 rooms, and ploughing my fields, and driving his cows to my 
 old pasture lots. That would finish me like a galloping 
 consumption." 
 
 Every day he shrank with a strange dread from the wrench 
 of parting with the familiar place and with all that he 
 associated with his wife. This was really the ordeal which 
 shook his soul, and not the fear that he would be unable to 
 earn his bread elsewhere. The unstable multitude who are 
 forever fancying that they would be better off somewhere 
 else or at something else can have no comprehension of 
 this deep-rooted love of locaUty a,nd the binding power 
 of long association. They regard such men as Holcroft 
 as little better than plodding oxen. The highest tribute 
 which some people can pay to a man, however, is to show 
 that they do not and can not understand him. But the 
 farmer was quite indifferent whether he was understood or 
 not. He gave no thought to what people said or might 
 say. What were people to him ? He only had a hunted, 
 pathetic sense of being hedged in and driven to bay. Even 
 to his neighbors, there was more^ of the humorous than the 
 tragic in his plight. It was supposed that he had a goodly 
 sum in the bank, and gossips said that he and his wife 
 thought more of increasing this hoard than of each other, 
 and that old Holcroft's mourning was chiefly for a business 
 partner. His domestic tribulations evoked mirth rather than 
 sympathy ; and as the news spread from farmhouse to 
 cottage, of his summary bundling of Bridget and her satel- 
 _lites out of doors, there were both hilarity and satisfaction. 
 
12 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 While there was little commiseration for the farmer, there ■ 
 was decided disapprobation of the dishonest Irish tribe, and 
 all were glad that the gang had received a lesson which 
 might restrain them from preying upon others. 
 
 Holcroft was partly to blame for his present isolation. 
 Remote rural populations are given to strong prejudices, 
 especially against those who are thought to be well-off from 
 an over-saving spirit, and who, worse still, are unsocial. 
 Almost any thing will be forgiven sooner than "thinking 
 one's self better than other folks ; " and that is the usual 
 interpretation of shy, reticent people. But there had been 
 a decided tinge of selfishness in the Holcrofts' habit of 
 seclusion; for it became a habit rather than a principle. 
 While they cherished no active dislike to their neighbors, 
 or- sense of superiority, these were not wholly astray in 
 believing that they had little place in the thoughts or 
 interests of the occupants of the hill farm. Indifference 
 begat indifference, and now the lonely, helpless man had 
 neither the power nor the disposition to bridge the chasm 
 which separated him from those who might have given him 
 kindly and intelligent aid. He was making a pathetic effort 
 to keep his home and to prevent his heart from being torn 
 bleeding away from all it loved. His neighbors thought that 
 he was merely exerting himself to keep the dollars which it 
 had been the supreme motive of his life to accumulate. 
 
 Giving no thought to the opinions of others, Holcroft 
 only knew that he was in sore straits, — that all which made 
 his existence a blessing was at stake. 
 
 At times, during these lonely and stormy March daySj he 
 would dismiss his anxious speculations in regard to his 
 future course. He was so morbid, especially at night, that 
 he felt that his wife could revisit the quiet house. He 
 cherished the hope that she could see him and hear what 
 he said, and he spoke in her viewless presence with a 
 
A VERY INTERESTED FRIEND. 1 3 
 
 freedom and fulness that was unlike his old reticence and 
 habit of repression. He wondered that he had not said 
 more endearing words and given her stronger assurance of 
 how much she was to him. Late at night, he would. start 
 out of a long revery, take a candle, and, going through the 
 house, would touch what she had touched, and look long 
 and fixedly at things associated with her. Her gowns still 
 hung in the closet, just as she had left them ; he would take 
 them out and recall the well-remembered scenes and occa- 
 sions when they were worn. At such times, she almost 
 seemed beside him, and he had a consciousness of com- 
 panionship which soothed his perturbed spirit. He felt that 
 she appreciated such loving remembrance although unable 
 to express her approval. He did not know it, but his 
 nature was being softened, deepened and enriched by these 
 deep and unwonted experiences ; the hard materiality of 
 his life was passing away, rendering him capable of some- 
 thing better than he had ever known. 
 
 In the morning, all the old prosaic problems of his life 
 would return, with their hard, practical insistence, and he 
 knew that he must decide upon something very soon._ His 
 lonely vigils and days of quiet had brought him to the con- 
 clusion that he could not hunt up a wife as a matter of 
 business. He would rather face the " ever angry bears " 
 than breathe the subject of matrimony to any woman that 
 he could ever imagine himself marrying. He was therefore 
 steadily drifting towards the necessity of selling every thing 
 and going away. This event, however, was like a coral-reef 
 to a sailor, with no land in view beyond it. The only thing 
 which seemed certain was the general breaking up of all 
 that had hitherto made his life. 
 
 The offer of help came from an unexpected source. One 
 morning, Holcroft received a call from a neighbor who had 
 never before shown any interest in his affairs. On this occa- 
 
14 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 sion, however, Mr. Weeks began to display so much solici- 
 tude that the farmer was not only surprised, but also a little 
 distrustful. Nothing in his previous knowledge of the man 
 had prepared the way for such very kindly intervention. 
 
 After some general references to the past, Mr. Weeks con- 
 tinued, " I've "been saying to our folks that it was too bad 
 to let you worry on alone without more neighborly help. 
 You ought either to get married or have some thoroughly 
 respectable and well-known middle-aged woman keep house 
 for you. That would stop all talk, and there's been a heap 
 of it, I can tell you. Of course, I and my folks don't be- 
 lieve any thing's been wrong." 
 
 "Believing that something was wrong, is about all the 
 attention my neighbors have given me, as far as I can see," 
 Holcroft remarked, bitterly. 
 
 " Well, you see, Holcroft, you've kept yourself so inside 
 your shell that people don't know what to believe. Now, 
 the thing to do. is to change all that. I know how hard it is 
 for a man, placed as you be, to get decent help. My wife 
 was a wondering about it the other day, and I shut her up 
 mighty sudden by saying, 'You're a good manager, and know 
 all the country side, yet how often you're a complaining that 
 you can't get a girl that's worth her salt to help in haying 
 and other busy times when we have to board a lot of men.' 
 Well, I won't beat around the bush any more. I've come 
 to act the part of a good neighbor. There's no use of you're 
 trying to get along with such hap-hazard help as you can 
 pick up here' and in town. You want a respectable woman 
 for housekeeper, and then have a cheap, common sort of 
 girl to work under her. Now, I know of just such a woman, 
 and it's not unHkely she'd be persuaded to take entire charge 
 of your house and dairy. My wife's cousin, Mrs. Mumpson " 
 — at the mention of this name, Holcroft gave a slight start 
 feeling something like a cold chill run down his back. 
 
A VERY INTERESTED FRIEND. 1 5 
 
 Mr. Weeks was a little disconcerted, but resumed, " I be- 
 lieve she called on your wife once? " 
 
 " Yes," the farmer replied, laconically. " I was away and 
 did not see her." 
 
 "Well, now," pursued Mr. Weeks, "she's a good soul. 
 She has her little peculiarities ; so have you an'd me, a lot 
 of 'em ; but she's thoroughly respectable, and there isn't a 
 man or woman in the town that would think of saying a word 
 against her. She has only one child, a nice, quiet littie girl 
 who'd be company for her mother and make every thing 
 look right, you know." 
 
 " I don't see what there's been to look wrong," growled 
 the farmer. 
 
 " Nothing to me and my folks, of course, or I wouldn't 
 suggest the idea of a relation of my wife coming to live with 
 you. But you see people will talk unless, you stop their 
 mouths so they'll feel like fools in doing it. I know yours 
 has been a mighty awkward case, and here's a plain way out 
 of it. You can set yourself right and have every thing 
 looked after as it ought to be, in twenty-four hours. We've 
 talked to Cynthy — that's Mrs. Mumpson — and she takes a 
 sight of interest. She'd do well by you and straighten things 
 out, and you might do a plaguey sight worse than give her 
 the right to take care of your indoor affairs for life." 
 
 " I don't expect to marry again," said Holcroft, curtly. 
 
 " Oh, well, many a man and woman has said that and be- 
 lieved it, too, at the time. I'm not saying that my wife's 
 cousin is inclined that way herself. Like enough, she isn't 
 at all, but then, the right kind of persuading does change 
 women's minds sometimes, eh? Mrs. Mumpson is kinder 
 alone in the world, like yourself, and if she was sure of a 
 good' home and a kind husband there's no telling what good 
 luck might happen to you. But there'll be plenty of time 
 for considering all that on both sides. You can't live like a 
 hermit " — 
 
1 6 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " I was thinking of selling out and leaving these parts," 
 Holcroft interrupted. 
 
 " Now look here, neighbor, you know as well as I do that 
 in these times you couldn't give away the place. What's 
 the use of such foolishness ? The thing to do is to keep the 
 farm and get a good living out of it. You've got down in 
 the dumps and can't see what's sensible and to your own 
 advantage." 
 
 Holcroft was thinking deeply, and he turned his eyes wist- 
 fully to the upland slopes of his farm. Mr. Weeks had talked 
 plausibly, and if all had been as he represented, the plan 
 would not have been a bad one. But the widower did not 
 yearn for the widow. He did not know much about her, 
 but had very unfavorable impressions. Mrs. Holcroft had 
 not been given to speaking ill of any one, but she had al- 
 ways shaken her head with a peculiar significance when Mrs. 
 Mumpson's name was mentioned. The widow had felt it 
 her duty to call and counsel against the sin of seclusion and 
 being too much absorbed in the affairs of this world. 
 
 " You should take an interest in every one," this self- 
 appointed evangelist had declared, and in one sense she 
 lived up to her creed. She permitted no scrap of informa- 
 tion about people to escape her, and was not only versed in 
 all the gossip of Oakville, but also of several other localities 
 in which she visited. 
 
 But Holcroft had little else to deter him from employing 
 her services beyond an unfavorable impression. She could 
 not be so bad as Bridget Malony, and he was almost willing 
 to employ her again for the privilege of remaining on his 
 paternal acres. As to marrying the widow, — a slight shud- 
 der passed through his frame at the thought. 
 
 Slowly he began, as if almost thinking aloud, " I suppose 
 you are right, Lemuel Weeks, in what you say about selling 
 the place. The Lord knows I don't want to leave it. I was 
 
A VERY INTERESTED FRIEND. 1/ 
 
 born and brought up here, and that counts with some people. 
 If your wife's cousin is willing to come and help me make a 
 living, for such wages as I can pay, the arrangement might be 
 made. But I want to look on it as a business arrangement. I 
 have quiet ways of my own, and things belonging to the past 
 to think about, and I've got a right to think about 'em. I ain't 
 one of the marrying kind, and I don't want' people to be a 
 considering such notions when I don't. I'd be kind and all 
 that to her and her little girl, but I should want to be left to 
 myself as far as I could be." 
 
 " Oh, certainly," said Mr. Weeks, mentally chuckling over 
 the slight prospect of such immunity, " but you must re- 
 member that Mrs. Mumpson isn't like common help," — 
 
 "That's where the trouble will come in," ejaculated the 
 perplexed farmer, " but there's been trouble enough with 
 the other sort." 
 
 " I should say so,'' Mr. Weeks remarked, emphatically. 
 " It would be a pity if you couldn't get along with such a 
 respectable, conscientious woman as Mrs. Mumpson, who 
 comes from one of the best families in the country." 
 
 Holcroft removed his hat and passed his hand over his 
 brow wearily as he said, " Oh, I could get along with any 
 one who would do the work in a^way that would give me a 
 chance to make a little, and then leave me to myself." 
 
 " Well, well," said Mr. Weeks, laughing, " you needn't think 
 that because I've hinted at a good match for you I'm mak- 
 ing one for my wife's cousin. You may see the day when 
 you'll be more hot for it than she is. All I'm trying to do 
 is to help you keep your place, and live like a man ought 
 and stop people's mouths." 
 
 " If I could only fill my own and live in peace, it's all I 
 ask. When I get to ploughing and planting again I'll begin 
 to take some comfort." 
 
 These words were quoted against Holcroft far and near. 
 
1 8 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIPE. 
 
 " Filling his own mouth and making a little money are all 
 he cares for," was the general verdict. And thus people are 
 misunderstood. The farmer had never turned any one hun- 
 gry from his door, and he would have gone to the poorhouse 
 ra"ther than have acted the part of the man who misreprfe- 
 sented him. He had only meant to express the hope that 
 he might be able to fill his mouth, — earn his bread,, and get 
 it from his native soil. " Ploughing and planting," — work- 
 ing where he had toiled since a child, would be a solace in 
 itself, and not a grudged means to a sordid end. 
 
 Mr. Weeks was a thrifty man also, and in nothing was he 
 more economical than in charitable views of his neighbors' 
 motives and conduct. He drove homeward with the com- 
 placent feeling that he had done a shrewd, good thing for 
 himself and " his folks " g.t least. His wife's cousin was not 
 exactly embraced in the latter category, although he had been 
 so active in her behalf. The fact was, he would be at much 
 greater pains could he attach her to Holcroft or any one else 
 and so prevent further periodical visits. He regarded her 
 and her child as barnacles with such appalling adhesive powers 
 that even his ingenuity at " crowding out " had been baffled. 
 In justice to him, it must be admitted that Mrs. Mumpson 
 was a type of the poor relation that would tax the long- 
 suffering of charity itself. Her husband had left her scarcely 
 his blessing,' and if he had fled to ills he knew not pf, he be- 
 lieved that he was escaping from some of which he had a 
 painfully distinct consciousness. His widow was one of the 
 people who regard the "world as their oyster," and her 
 scheme of life was to get as much as possible for nothing. 
 Arrayed in mourning weeds", she had begun a system of 
 periodical descents upon his relatives and her own. She 
 might have made such visitations endurable and even wel- 
 come, but she was not shrewd enough to be sensible. She 
 appeared to have developed only the capacity to talk to 
 
A VERY INTERESTED FRIEND. 1 9 
 
 pry and to worry people. She was unable to rest or to 
 permit others "to rest, yef her aversion to any useful form of 
 activity was her chief characteristic. Wherever she went, 
 she took the ground that she was "company," and, with a 
 shawl hanging over her sharp, angular shoulders, she would 
 seize upon the most comfortable rocking-chair in the house, 
 and mouse for bits of news about every one of whom she 
 had ever heard. She was quite as ready to tell all she knew 
 also, and for the sake of her budget of gossip and small scan- 
 dal, her female relatives tolerated her after a fashion for a 
 time ; but she had been around so often, and her scheme 
 of obtaining subsistence for herself and child had become 
 so offensively apparent, that she had about exhausted the 
 patience of all the kith and kin on whom she had the remot- 
 est claim. Her presence was all the more unwelcome by 
 reason of the faculty for irritating the men of the various 
 households which she invaded. Even the most phlegmatic 
 or the best natuijed lost their self-control, and, as their wives 
 declared, " felt like flying all to pieces " at her incessant 
 rocking, gossiping, questioning, and, what was worse still, 
 lecturing. Not the least endurable thing about Mrs. Mump- 
 son was her pecuhar phase of piety. She saw the delinquin- 
 cies and duties of others with such painful distinctness that 
 she felt compelled to speak of them ; and her zeal was sure 
 to be instant out of season. 
 
 When Mr. Weeks had started on his ominous mission to 
 Holcroft his wife remarked to her daughter, confidentially, 
 " I declare,-sis, if we don't get rid of Cynthy soon, I believe 
 Lemuel will fly off" the handle." 
 
 To avoid any such dire catastrophe, it was hoped and 
 almost prayed in the Weeks household that the lonely 
 occupant of the hill farm would take the widow for good 
 and all. 
 
20 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MRS. MUMPSON NEGOTIATES AND YIELDS. 
 
 MR. WEEKS, on his return home, dropped all diplomacy 
 in dealing with the question at issue. " Cynthy," he 
 said, in his own vernacular, " the end has come so far as rae 
 and my folks are concerned, — I never expect to visit you, 
 and while I'm master of the house, no more visits will be re- 
 ceived. But I hain't taken any such stand onconsiderately," 
 he concluded. " I've given up the whole forenoon to secure 
 you a better chance of living than visiting around. If you 
 go to Holcroft's, you'll have \o do some work, and so will 
 your girl. But he'll hire some one to help you, and so you 
 won't have to hurt yourself. Your tnimp card will be to 
 hook him and marry him before he finds you out. To do 
 this, you'll have to see to the house and dairy, and bestir 
 yourself for a time at least. He's pretty desperate off for 
 lack of woman-folks to look after indoor matters, but he'll 
 sell out and clear out before he'll keep a woman, much less 
 marry her, if she does nothing but talk. Now remember, 
 you've got a chance which you won't get again, for Holcroft 
 not only owns his farm, but has a snug sum in the bank. So 
 you had better get your things together, and go right over 
 while he's in the mood." i 
 
 When Mrs. Mumpson reached the blank wall of the inevi- 
 table, she yielded, and not before. She' saw that the Weeks 
 mine was worked out completely, and she knew that this 
 exhaustion was about equally true of all similar mines which 
 had been bored until they would yield no further returns. 
 
M/!S. MUMPSON NEGOTIATES AND YIELDS. 21 
 
 But Mr. Weeks soon found that he could not cany out 
 his summary measures. The widow was bent on negotia- 
 tions and binding agreements. In a stiff, cramped liand, she 
 wrote to Holcroft in regard to the amount of " salary " he 
 would be willing to pay, intimating that one burdened with 
 such responsibilities as she was expected to assume " ort to 
 be compansiated proposhundly." 
 
 Weeks groaned as he despatched his son on horseback 
 with this first epistle, and Holcroft groaned as he read it, 
 not on account of its marvellous spelling and construction, 
 but by reason of the vista of perplexities and trouble it 
 opened to his boding mind. But he named on half a sheet 
 of paper as large a sum as lie felt it possible to pay and 
 leave any chance for himself, then affixed his signature and 
 sent it back by the messenger. 
 
 The widow Mumpson wished to talk over this first point 
 between the high contracting powers indefinitely, but Mr. 
 Weeks remarked, cynically, " It's double what I thought he'd 
 offer, and you're lucky to have it in black and white. Now 
 that every thing's settled, Timothy will hitch up and take 
 you and Jane up there at once." 
 
 But Mrs. Mumpson now. began to insist upon writing 
 another letter in regard to her domestic status and that of 
 her child. They could not think of being looked upon as 
 servants. She also wished to be assured that a girl would 
 be hired to help her, that she should have all the church 
 privileges to which she had been accustomed and the right 
 to visit and entertain her friends, which meant every farmer's 
 wife and all the maiden sisters in Oakville. "And then," 
 she continued, " there are always little perquisites which 
 a housekeeper has a right to look for " — Mr. Weeks irri- 
 tably put a period to this phase of diplomacy by saying, 
 " Well, well, Cynthy, the stage will be along in a couple of 
 hours. We'll put you and your things aboard and you^ can 
 
22 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 go on with what you call your negotiations at cousin Abi- 
 ram's. I can tell you one thing though, — if you writ6 any 
 such letter to Holcroft, you'll never hear from him again." 
 
 Compelled to give up all these preliminaries, but inwardly 
 resolving to gain each point by a nagging persistence of 
 which she was a mistress, she finally declared that she " must 
 have writings about one thing which couldn't be left to any 
 man's changeful mmd. He must agree to give me the 
 monthly salary he names for at least a year." 
 
 Weeks thought a moment, and then, with a shrewd twin- 
 kle in his eyes, admitted, " It would be a good thing to have 
 Holcroft's name to such an agreement. Yes, you might try 
 that on, but you're taking a risk. If you were not so penny 
 wise and pound foolish you'd go at once and manage, to get 
 him to take you for ' better or worse.' " 
 
 " You misjudge me, cousin Lemuel," replied the widow, 
 bridling and rocking violently. " If there's any such taking 
 to be done, he must get me to take him." 
 
 " Well, well, write your letter about a year's engagement. 
 That'll settle you for a twelve month, at least." 
 
 •Mrs. Mumpson again began the slow, laborious construc- 
 tion of a letter in which she dwelt upon the uncertainties 
 of life, her " duty to her offspring,'' and the evils of " vicis- 
 situde." "A stable home is woman's chief desire," she 
 concluded, " and you will surely agree to pay me the salary 
 you have said for a year." 
 
 When Holcroft read this second epistle he so far yielded 
 to his first impulse that he half tore the sheet, then paused 
 irresolutely. After a few moments he went to the door and 
 looked out upon his acres. " It'll soon be ploughing and 
 planting time," he thought. " I guess I can stand her — at 
 least I can try it for three .months. I'd like to turn a few 
 more furrows on the old place," and his face softened and 
 grew wistful as he looked at the bare, frost-bound fields. 
 
MRS. MUMVSON NEGOTIATES AND YIELDS. 23 
 
 Suddenly it darkened and grew stem as he muttered, " But 
 I'll put my hand to no more paper with that Weeks tribe." 
 
 He strode to the stable, saying to Timothy Weeks, as he 
 passed, " I'll answer this letter in person." 
 
 Away cantered Timothy, and soon caused a flutter of ex- 
 pectancy in the Weeks household, by announcing that "old 
 Holcroft looked black as a thunder cloud and was comin' 
 himself." 
 
 " I telL you what 'tis, Cynthy, it's the turn of a hair with 
 you now," growled Weeks. " Unless you agree to whatever 
 Holcroft says, you haven't a ghost of a chance." 
 
 The widow felt that a crisis had indeed come. Cousin 
 Abiram's was the next place in the order of visitation, but 
 her last experience there left her in painful doubt as to a 
 future reception. Therefore she tied on a new cap, smoothed 
 her apron, and rocked' with unwonted rapidity. " It'll be 
 according to the ordering of Providence " — 
 
 "Oh, pshaw!" interrupted cousin Lemuel, "it'll be ac- 
 cording to whether you've, got any sense or not." 
 
 Mrs. Weeks had been -in a pitiable state of mind all day. 
 She saw that her husband had reached the limit of his en- 
 durance — that he had virtually already " flown off the han- 
 dle." But to have her own kin actually bundled out of the 
 house — what would people say ? Acceptance of Holcroft's 
 terms, whatever they might be, was the only way out of the 
 awkward predicament, and so she began in a wheedling 
 tone, " Now, cousin Cynthy, as Lernuel says, you've got a 
 first-rat^ chance; Holcroft's had an awful time with women, 
 and he'll be glad enough to do well by any one who does 
 fairly well by him. Everybody says he's well off, and once 
 you're fairly there and get things in your own hands, there's 
 no telling what may happen. He'll get a 'girl to help you, 
 and Jane's big enough now to do a good deal. Why, you'll 
 be the same as keeping house like the rest of us." 
 
24" HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 Further discussion was cut short by the arrival of the vic- 
 tim. He stood awkwardly in the door of the Weeks sitting- 
 room for a moment, seemingly at a loss how to state his 
 case. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Weeks now resolved to appear neutral and 
 allow the farmer to make his terms. Then, like other supe- 
 rior powers in the background, they proposed to exert a 
 pressure on their relative and do a little coercing. But the 
 widow's course promised at first to relieve them of all fur- 
 ther effort. She suddenly seemed to become aware of Hol- 
 croft's presence, sprang up and gave him her hand very 
 cordially. 
 
 " I'm glad to see you, sir," she began. " It's very con- 
 siderate of you to come for me. I can get ready in short 
 order, and as for Jane, she's never a bit of trouble. Sit 
 down, sir, and make yourself to home while I get our things 
 together and put on my bonnet;" and she was about tq 
 hasten from the room. 
 
 She, too, had been compelled to see that Holcroft's farm- 
 house was the only certain refuge left, and while' she had 
 rocked and waited the thought had come into her scheming 
 mind, " I've stipulated to stay a year, and if he says nothing' 
 against it, it's a bargain which I can manage to keep him to 
 in spite of himself, even if I don't marry him." 
 
 But the straightforward farmer was ncpt to be caught in 
 such a trap. He had come himself to say certain words 
 and he would say them. He quietly, therefore, stood in 
 the door and said, " Wait a moment, Mrs. Mumpson. It's 
 best to have a plain understanding in all matters of business. , 
 When I've done, you may conclude not to go with me, for 
 I want to say to you what I said this morning to your 
 cousin, Lemuel Weeks. I'm glad he and his wife are now 
 present, as witnesses. I'm a plain man, and all I want is to 
 make a livin' off the farm I've been brought up on. I'll 
 
MRS. MUATPSON NEGOTIATES AND YIELDS. 2$ 
 
 get a girl to help you witii the work. Between you, I'll ex- 
 ^pect it to be done in a way that the dairy will yield a fair 
 profit. We'll try and see how we get on for three months 
 and not a year. I'll not bind myself longer than three 
 months. Of course, if you manage well, I'll be glad to 
 have this plain business arrangement go on as long as possi- 
 ble, but it's all a matter of business. If I can't make my 
 farm pay, I'm going to sell or rent and leave these parts." 
 
 "Oh, certainly, certainly, Mr. Holcroft. You take a very 
 senserble view of affairs. I hope you will find that I will do 
 all that I agree to and a great deal more. I'm a little afraid 
 of the night air and the inclement season, and so will hasten 
 to get myself and my child ready," and she passed quickly 
 out. 
 
 Weeks put his hand to his mouth to conceal a grin as he 
 thought, " She hasn't agreed to do any thing that I know on. 
 Still, she's right ; she'll do a sight more than he expects, but 
 it won't be just what he expects." 
 
 Mrs. Weeks followed her relative to expedite matters, and 
 it must be confessed that the gathering of Mrs. Mumpson's 
 belongings was no heavy task. A small hair trunk that had 
 come down from the remote past held her own and her 
 child's wardrobe and represented all their worldly possessions. 
 
 Mr. Weeks, much pleased at the turn of affairs, became 
 very affable, but confined his remarks chiefly to the weather, 
 while Holcroft, who had an uneasy sense of being overreached 
 in some undetected' way, was abstracted and laconic. He 
 was soon on the road home, however, with Mrs. Mumpson 
 and Jane. Cousin Lemuel's last whispered charge was, 
 " Now, for mercy's sake, da keep your tongue still and your 
 hands busy." 
 
 Whatever possibilities there may be for the Ethiopian or 
 the leopard, there was no hope that Mrs. Mumpson would 
 materially change any of her characteristics. The chief 
 
26 HE FELL IN LO'VE 'WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 reason was that she had no desire to change. A more self- 
 complacent person did not exist in Oakville. Good traits in 
 other people did not interest her. They were insipid, they 
 lacked a certain pungency which a dash of evil imparts •" 
 and in the course of her minute investigations she had dis- 
 cerned or surmised so much that was reprehensible that she 
 had come to regard herself as singularly free from sins of 
 omission and commission. " What hav£ I ever done ? " she 
 would ask m her self-communings. The question implied 
 so much truth of a certain kind that all her relatives were in 
 gall and bitterness as they remembered the weary months 
 during which she had rocked idly at their firesides. With 
 her, talking was as much of a necessity as breathing, , but 
 during the ride to the hillside farm she, in a sense, held her 
 breath, for a keen March wind was blowing. 
 
 She was so quiet that Holcroft grew hopeful, not realizing 
 that the checked' flow of words must have freer course later 
 on. A cloudy twilight was deepening fast when they reached 
 the dwelling. Holcrdft's market-wagon served for the gen- 
 eral purposes of conveyance, and he drove as near as possi- 
 ble to the kitchen door. Descending from the front seat, 
 which he had occupied alone, he turned and offered his 
 hand to assist the widow to alight, but she nervously poised 
 herself on the edge of the vehicle and seemed to be afraid 
 to venture. The wind fluttered her scanty draperies, caus- 
 ing her to appear like a bird of prey about to swoop down 
 upon the unprotected man. " I'm afraid to jump so far," 
 she began. 
 
 " There's the step, Mrs. Mumpson." 
 
 "But I can't see it. Wo«ld you mind lifting me 
 down ? " 
 
 He impatiently took her by the arms, which seemed in 
 his grasp like the rounds of a chair, and put her on the 
 ground. 
 
AfRS. MUMPSON NEGOTIATES AND YIELDS. 2/ 
 
 " Oh ! " she exclaimed, in gushing tones, " there's nothing 
 to equal the strong arms of a man." 
 
 He hastily lifted out her daughter, and said, "You had 
 better hurry in to the fire. I'll be back in a few minutes," 
 and he led his horses down to the barn, blanketed and tied 
 them. When he returned, he saw two dusky figures stand- 
 ing by the front door which led to the little hall separating 
 the kitchen from the parlor. 
 
 "Bless me ! '' he exclaimed. "You haven't been stand- 
 ing here all this time? " 
 
 " It's merely due to a little oversight. The door is 
 locked, you see, and " — 
 
 " But the kitchen door is not locked." 
 
 "Well, it didn't seem quite natural for us to enter the 
 dwelling on the occasion of our first arrival by the kitchen 
 entrance, and " — 
 
 Holcroft, with a grim look, strode through the kitchen 
 and unlocked the door. 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed the widow. " I feel as if I was coming 
 home. Enter, Jane, my dear. I'm sure the place will soon 
 cease to be strange to you, for the home feeling is rapidly 
 acquired when " — 
 
 " Just wait a minute, please," said Holcroft, " and I'll 
 light the lamp and a candle." This he did with the deftness 
 of a man accustomed to help himself, then led the way to 
 the upper room which was to be her sleeping apartment. 
 Placing the candle on the bureau, he forestalled Mrs. Mump- 
 son by saying, " I'll freshen up the fire in the kitchen and 
 lay out the ham, eggs, coffee and other materials for supper. 
 Then I must go out and unharness and do my night work. 
 Make yourselves to home. You'll soon be able to find every 
 thing," and he hastened away. 
 
 It would not be their fault if they were not soon able to 
 find every thing. Mrs. Mumpson's first act was to take the 
 
28 HE FELL IN 'LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 candle and survey the room in every nook and corner. She 
 sighed when she found the closet and bureau drawers empty. 
 Then she examined the quantity and texture of the bedding 
 of the " couch on which she was to repose " as she would 
 express herself. Jane followed her around on tiptoe, doing 
 just what her mother did, but was silent. At last they shiv- 
 ered in the fireless apartment, threw off their scanty wraps 
 and went down to the kitchen. Mrs. Mumpson instinctively 
 looked around for a rocking-chair, and as none was visible 
 she hastened to the parlor, and, holding the candle aloft, sur- 
 veyed this apartment; Jane followed in her wake as before, 
 but at last ventured to suggest, " Mother, Mr. Holcroft'll be 
 in soon and want his supper." 
 
 " I suppose he'll want a great many things," replied Mrs. 
 Mumpson, with dignity, " but he can't expect a lady of my 
 connections to fly around like a common servant. It is but 
 natural, in coming to a new abode,, that I should wish to 
 know something of that abode. There should have been a 
 hired girl here ready to receive and get^ supper for us. Since 
 there is not one to receive us, bring that rocking-chair, my 
 dear, and I will direct you how to proceed." 
 
 The child did as she was told, and her mother was soon 
 rocking on the snuggest side of the kitchen stove, interspers- 
 ing her rather bewildering orders with various reflections 
 and surmises. 
 
 Sketching the child Jane is a sad task, and pity would 
 lead us to soften every touch if this could be done in truth- 
 fulness. She was but twelve years of age, yet there was 
 scarcely a trace of childhood left in her colorless face. 
 Stealthy and cat-like in all her movements, she gave the 
 impression that she could not do the commonest thing ex- 
 cept in a sly, cowering manner. Her small greenish-gray 
 eyes appeared to be growing nearer together with the lapse 
 of time, and their indirect, furtive glances suggested that 
 
MRS. MUMPSON NEGOTIATES AND YIELDS. 2g 
 
 they had hardly, if ever, seen looks of frank affection bent 
 upon her. She had early learned, on the round of visits 
 with her mother, that so far from being welcome she was 
 scarcely tolerated, and she reminded one of a stray cat that 
 comes to a dwelling and seeks to maintain existence there 
 in a lurking, deprecatory manner. Her kindred recognized 
 this feline trait, for they were accustomed to remark, " She's 
 always snoopin' around." 
 
 She could scarcely do otherwise, poor child ! there had 
 seemed no place for her at any of the firesides. She 
 haunted halls and passage-ways, sat in dusky corners, and 
 kept her meagre little form out of sight as much as possi- 
 ble. She was the last one helped at table when she was 
 permitted to come at all, and so had early learned to watch, 
 hke a cat, and when people's backs were turned, to snatch 
 something, carry it off, and devour it in secret. Detected 
 in these little pilferings, to which she was almost driven, she 
 was regarded as even a greater nuisance than her mother. 
 
 The latter was much too pre-occupied to give her child 
 attention. Ensconced in a rocking-chair in the best room, 
 and always in full tide of talk if there was any one pres- 
 ent, she rarely seemed to think where Jane was or what she 
 was doing. The rounds of visitation gave the child no 
 chance to go to school, so her developing mind had little 
 other pabulum than what her mother supplied so freely. 
 She was acquiring the same consuming curiosity, with the 
 redeeming feature that she did not talk. Listening in un- 
 suspected places, she heard much that was said about her 
 mother and herself, and the pathetic part of this experience 
 was that she had never known enough of kindness to be 
 wounded. She was only made, to feel more fully how pre- 
 carious was her foothold in her transient abiding place, and 
 therefore was rendered more furtive, sly and distant in order 
 to secure toleration by keeping out of every one's way. In 
 
30 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 her prowlings, however, she managed to learn and under- 
 stand all that was going on even better than her mother, 
 who, becoming aware of this fact, was acquiring the habit 
 of putting her through a whispered cross-questioning when 
 they retired for the night. It would be hard to imagine a 
 child beginning life under more unfavorable auspices and 
 still harder to predict the outcome. 
 
 In the course of her close watchfijlness she had observed 
 how many of the domestic labors had been performed, and 
 she would have helped more in the various households if she 
 had been given a chance ; but the housewives had not re- 
 garded her as sufficiently honest to be trusted in the pan- 
 tries, and also found that if there was a semblance of return 
 for such hospitality as they extended, Mrs. Mumpson would 
 remain indefinitely. Moreover, the homely, silent child 
 made the women nervous, just as her mother irritated the 
 men, and they did not want her around. Thus she had 
 come to be but the spectre of a child, knowing little of the 
 good in the world and as much of the evil as she could 
 understand. 
 
 She now displayed, however, more sense than her mother. 
 The habit of close scrutiny had made it clear that Holcroft 
 would not long endure genteel airs and inefficiency, and that 
 something must be done to keep this shelter. She did her 
 best to get supper, with the aid given from the rocking-chair, 
 and at last broke out sharply, " You must get up and help 
 me. He'll turn us out of doors if we don't have supper 
 -ready when he comes in." 
 
 Spurred by fear of such a dire possibility, Mrs. Mumpson 
 was bustling around when Holcroft entered. " We'll soon 
 be ready," she gushed, " we'll soon place our evening repast 
 upon the table." 
 
 "Very well," was the brief reply, as he passed up the 
 stairs with the small hair trunk on his shoulder. 
 
DOMESTIC BLISS. 3 1 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DOMESTIC BLISS. 
 
 HOLCROFT had been given a foretaste of the phase 
 of torment which he was destined to endure in his 
 domestic relations, and was planning to secure a refuge into 
 which he could not be pursued. He had made himself a 
 little more presentable for supper, instinctively aware that 
 nothing would escape the lynx-eyed widow, and was taking 
 some measurements from the floor to a stove-pipe hole 
 leading into the chimney flue, when he became aware that 
 some one was in the door-way. Turning, he saw Jane with 
 her small, cat-like eyes fixed intently upon him. Insta:ntly 
 he had the feeling that he was being watched and would be 
 watched. 
 
 " Supper's ready," said the girl, disappearing. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson smiled upon him — if certain contortions 
 of her thin, sharp face could be termed a smile — from that 
 side of the table at which his wife had sat so many years, 
 and he saw that the low rocking-chair which he had pre- 
 served jealously from his former " help " had been brought 
 from the parlor and established in the old familiar place. 
 Mrs. Mumpson folded her hands and assumed a look of 
 deep solemnity ; Jane, as instructed, also lowered her head, 
 and they waited for him to say " grace." He was in far too 
 bitter a mood for any such pious farce, and stolidly began 
 to help them to the ham and eggs, which viands had been 
 as nearly spoiled as was possible in their preparation. The 
 
32 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 widow raised her head with a profound sigh which set 
 Holcroft's teeth on edge, but he proceeded silendy with his 
 supper. The biscuits were heavy enough to burden the 
 lightest conscience ; and the coffee, simply grounds swim- 
 ming around in lukewarm water. He took a sip, then put 
 down his cup and said, quietly, "Guess I'll take a glass of 
 milk to-night. Mrs. Mumpson, if you don't know how to 
 make coffee, I can soon show you." 
 
 "Why ! isn't it right? How strange ! Perhaps it would 
 be well for you to show me just exactly how you like it, for it 
 will afford me much pleasure to make it to your taste. Men's 
 tastes differ so ! I've heard that no two men's tastes were 
 alike ; and, after all, every thing is a matter of taste. Now 
 cousin Abiram doesn't believe in coffee at all. He thinks 
 it is unwholesome. Have you ever tliought that it might 
 be unwholesome?" 
 
 " I'm used to it, and would like it good when I have it at 
 all." 
 
 " Why, of course, of course, you must have it exactly to 
 your taste. — Jane, my dear, we must put our minds on 
 coffee and learn precisely how Mr. Holcroft likes it, and 
 when the hired girl comes we must carefully -superintend 
 her when she makes it. — By the way, I suppose you will 
 employ my assistant to-morrow, Mr. Holcroft?" 
 
 "I can't get a girl short of town," was the reply, "and 
 there is so much cream in the dairy that ought to be churned 
 at once that I'll wait till next Monday and take down the 
 butter." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson put on a grave, injured air, and said, 
 " Well," so disapprovingly that it was virtually saying that 
 it was not well at all. Then, suddenly remembering that 
 this was not good policy, she was soon all smiles and chatter 
 again. " How cosey this is ! " she cried, " and how soon 
 one acquires the home feeling ! Why, any one looking in 
 
DOMESTIC BLISSi 33 
 
 at the window would think that we were an old established 
 family, and yet this is but our first meal together. But it 
 won't be the last, Mr. Holcroft. I cannot make it known to 
 you how your loneliness, which cousin Lemuel has so feel- 
 ingly described to me, has effected my feelings. Cousin 
 Nancy said but this very day that you have had desperate 
 times with all kinds of dreadful creatures. But all that's 
 past. Jane and me will give a look of stability and respecter- 
 bility to every comer." 
 
 "Well, really, Mrs. Mumpson, I tlon't know who's to 
 come." 
 
 " Oh, you'll see," she replied, wrinkling her thin, blue 
 lips into what was meant for a smile, and nodding her 
 head at him encouragingly. " You won't be so isolated no 
 more. Now that I'm here, with my offspring, your neigh- 
 bors will feel that they can show you their sympathy. The 
 most respecterble people in town will call, and your life will 
 grow brighter and brighter ; clouds will roll away, and " — 
 
 • ' I hope the neighbors will not be so ill-mannered as to 
 come without being invited," remarked Mr. Holcroft, grimly. 
 " It's too late in the day for them to begin now." 
 
 " My being here with Jane will make all the difference in 
 the world," resumed Mrs. Mumpson, with as saccharine an 
 expression as she could assume. "They will come out 
 of pure kindness and friendly interest with the wish to 
 encourage " — 
 
 "Mrs. Mumpson," said Holcroft, half desperately, "if any 
 one comes it'll be out of pure curiosity, and I don't want 
 such company. Selling enough butter, eggs and produce to 
 pay expenses will encourage me more than all the people 
 of Oakville if they should come in a body. What's the use 
 of talking in this way? I've done without the neighbors 
 so far, and I'm sure they've been very careful to do without 
 me. I shall have nothing to do with them except in the 
 
34 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 way of business, and as I said to you down at Lemuel 
 Weeks's, business must be the first consideration with us 
 all," and he^ rose from the table. 
 
 "Oh, certainly, certainly," the widow hastened to say, 
 " but then business is like a cloud, and the meetings and 
 greetings of friends is a sort of silver lining, you know. 
 What would the world be without friends — the society of 
 those who take an abiding interest? Believe me, Mr. 
 Holcroft;" she continued, bringing her long, skinny finger 
 impressively down on the table, " you have lived alone" so 
 long that you are unable to see the crying needs of your 
 own constitution. As a Christian man, you. require human 
 sympathy and " — 
 
 Poor Holcroft knew little of centrifugal force ; but at that 
 moment he was a living' embodiment of it, feeling that if 
 he did not escape he would fly into a thousand atoms. 
 Saying nervously, "I've a few chores to do," he seized his 
 hat, and hastening out, wandered disconsolately around the 
 barn. " I'm never going to be able to stand her," he 
 groaned. " I know now why my poor wife shook, her head 
 whenever this woman was mentioned. The clack of her 
 tongue would drive any man living crazy, and the gimlet 
 eyes of that girl Jane would bore holes through a saint's 
 patience. Well, well, I'll put a stove up in my room, then 
 ploughing and planting time will soon be here, and I guess I 
 can stand it at meal times for three months, for unless she 
 stops her foolishness she sha'n't stay any longer." 
 
 Jane had not spoken during the meal, but kept her eyes 
 on Holcroft, except when he looked towards her, and then 
 she instantly averted her .gaze. When she was alone with 
 her mother, she said abruptly, " We ain't a gqin' to stay here 
 long, nuther." 
 
 "Why not?" was the sharp, responsive query. 
 
 " 'Cause the same look's comin' into his face that was in 
 
DOMESTIC BLISS. 35 
 
 cousin Lemuel's and cousin Abiram's and all the rest of 'em. 
 'Fi's you I'd keep still now. 'Pears to me they all want 
 you to keep still and you won't.'' 
 
 " Jane," said Mrs. Mumpson, in severe tones, " you're an 
 ignorant child. Don't presume to instruct me! Besides, 
 this case is entirely different. Mr. Holcroft must be made 
 to understand from the start that I'm not a common woman 
 — that I'm his equal, and in most respects his superior. If 
 he ain't made to feel this, it'll never enter his head — but 
 law ! there's things which you can't and oughtn't to under- 
 stand." 
 
 " But I do,'' said the girl, shortly, " and he won't marry 
 you, nor keep you if you talk him to death." 
 
 " Jane ! " gasped Mrs. Mumpson, as she sank into the 
 chair and rocked violently. 
 
 The night air was keen and soon drove Holcroft into the 
 house. As he passed the kitchen window, he saw that Mrs. 
 Mumpson was in his wife's rocking-chair and that Jane 
 was clearing up the table. He kindled a fire on the parlor 
 hearth, hoping, but scarcely expecting, that he would be left 
 alone. 
 
 Nor was he very long, for the widow soon opened the 
 door and entered, carrying the chair. " Oh, you are here,'' 
 she said, sweetly. " I heard the fire crackling, and I do so 
 love open, wood fires. They're company in themselves, and 
 they make those who bask in the flickering blaze inclined 
 to be sociable. To think of how many long lonely even- 
 ings you have sat here when you had persons-in your employ 
 with whom you could have no affinity whatever ! I don't 
 see how you stood it. Uuder such circumstances life must 
 cloud up into a dreary burden." It never occurred to Mrs. 
 "Mumpson that her figures of speech were often mixed. She 
 merely felt that the sentimental phase of conversation must 
 be very flowery. But during the first evening she had re- 
 
36 HE FELL TN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 solved on prudence. " Mr. Holcroft shall have time," she 
 thought, " for the hope to steal into his heart that his house- 
 keeper may become something more to him than housekeeper 
 — that there is a nearer and loftier relation." 
 
 Meanwhile she was consumed with curiosity to know 
 something about the "persons" previously employed and 
 his experiences with them. With a momentary, and, as she 
 felt, a proper pause before descending to ordinary topics, 
 she resumed, " My dear Mr. Holcroft, no doubt it will be a 
 relief to your overfraught mind to pour into a symperthetic 
 ear the story of youB troubles with those — er — those pecul- 
 iar females that — er — that " — 
 
 " Mrs. Mumpson, it would be a much greater relief to my 
 mind to forget all about 'em," he replied, briefly. 
 
 "Indeed! " exclaimed the widow. "Was they as bad as 
 that? Who'd a thought it ! Well, well, well, what people 
 there is in the world ! And you'couldn't abide 'em then? " 
 
 " No, I couldn't." 
 
 " Well now, what hussies they must have been ! And to 
 think you were here all alone with no better company ! It 
 makes my heart bleed. They do say that Bridget Malony 
 is equal to any thing, and I've no doubt but that she took 
 things and did things." 
 
 " Well, she's taken herself off, and that's enough." Then 
 he groaned inwardly, ".Good Lord ! I could stand her and 
 all her tribe better'n this one." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Holcroft," pursued Mrs. Mumpson, sinking her 
 voice to a loud, confidential whisper, " and I don't believe 
 you've any idea how much she took with her. I fear you've 
 been robbed in all these vicissitudes. Men never know 
 what's in a house. They need caretakers, respecterble 
 women, that would sooner cut out their tongues than pur- 
 loin. How happy is the change which has been affected ! 
 How could you abide i^ the hquge wi^h siich a person as 
 that Bridget Malony ? " 
 
DOMESTIC BLTSS. 37 
 
 "Well, well, Mrs. Mumpson, she abode with herself. I 
 at least had this room in peace and quietness." 
 
 " Of course, of course. A person so utterly unrespecter- 
 ble would not think of entering this apartment; but then 
 you had to meet her, you know. You could not act as if 
 she was not, when she was, and there being so much of her, 
 too. She was a monstrous looking person. It's dreadful to 
 think that such persons belong to our sex. I don't wonder 
 you feel as you do about it all. I can understand you per- 
 fectly. All your senserbleness was offended. You felt that 
 your very home had become sacrilegious. Well, now, I sup- 
 pose she said awful things to you? " 
 
 Holcroft could not endure this style of inquisition and 
 comment another second longer. He rose and said, " Mrs. 
 Mumpson, if you want to know just what she said and did 
 you must go and ask her. I'm very tired. I'll go out and 
 see that the stock's all right, and then go to bed." 
 
 " Oh, certainly, certainly," ejaculated the widow. " Re- 
 pose is nature's sweet raster, says the poet. I can see 
 how recalling those dreadful scenes with those peculiar 
 females " — but he was gone. 
 
 In passing out, he caught sight of Jane whisking back 
 into the kitchen. " She's been listening," he thought. 
 " Well, I'll go to^ town to-morrow afternoon, get a stove for 
 my room up stairs and stuff the key-hole." 
 
 He went to the barn and looked with envy at the placid 
 cows and quiet horses. At last, having lingered as long as 
 he could, he returned to the kitchen. Jane had washed and 
 put away the supper dishes after a fashion, and was now 
 sitting on the edge of a chair in the farthest corner of the 
 room. 
 
 " Take this candle and go to your mother," he said curtly. 
 Then he fastened the doors and put out the lamp. Stand- 
 ing for an instant at the parlor entrance, he added, " Please 
 
38 BE FELL TN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 rake up the fire and put out the light before you come up. 
 Good night." 
 
 " Oh, certainly, certainly, we'll look after every thing just 
 as if it was our own. The sense of strangeness will soon 
 pass " — but his steps were half-way up the stairs. 
 
 Mother and daughter listened until they heard him over- 
 head, then taking the candle, they began a most minute 
 examination of every thing in the room. 
 
 Poor Holcroft listened also, too worried, anxious and 
 nei-vous to sleep until they came up and all sounds ceased 
 in the adjoining apartment. 
 
MA'S. MUMPSON TAKES UP HER, BURDENS. 39 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MRS. MUMPSON TAKES UP HER BURDENS.- 
 
 THE next morning, Holcroft awoke early. The rising 
 sun flooded his plain little room with mellow light. It 
 was impossible to give way to dejection in that radiance, 
 and hope, he scarcely knew why, sprung up in his heart. 
 He was soon dressed, and having kindled the kitchen fire, 
 went out on the porch. There had been a change in the 
 wind during the night, and now it blew softly from the 
 south. The air \yas sweet with the indefinable fragrance of 
 spring. The ethereal notes of bluebirds were heard on 
 every side. Migratory robins were feeding in the orchard, 
 whistling and calling their noisy congratulations on arriving 
 at old haunts. The frost was already oozing from the 
 ground, but the farmer welcomed the mud, knowing that it 
 indicated a long advance towards ploughiiig and planting 
 time. 
 
 He bared his head to the sweet, warm air and took long, 
 deep breaths. " If this weather holds," he muttered, " I 
 can soon put in some early potatoes on that warm hillside 
 yonder. Yes, I can stand even her for the sake of being on 
 the old place in niornings like this. The weather'll be get- 
 ting better every day and I can be out of doors more. I'll 
 have a stove in my room to-night ; I would last night if the 
 old air-tight hadn't given out completely. I'll take it to town 
 this afternoon and sell it for old iron. Then I'll get a bran' 
 new one and put it up in my room. They can't follow me 
 
40 HE FELL IN- LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 there and they can't follow me out-doors, and so perhaps I 
 can live in peace and work most of the time." 
 
 Thus he was murmuring to himself, as lonely people so 
 often do, when he felt that some one was near. Turning 
 suddenly, he saw Jane half-hidden by the kitchen door. 
 Finding herself observed, the girl came forward and said in 
 her brief, monotonous way, — 
 
 " Mother'll be down soon. If you'll show me how you 
 want the coffee -and things, I guess I can learn." 
 
 "I guess you'll have to, Jane. There'll be more chance 
 of your teaching your mother than of her teaching you, I 
 fear. But we'll see, we'll see ; it's strange people can't see 
 what's sensible and best for 'em when they see so much." 
 
 The child made no reply, but watched him intently as he 
 measured out and then ground half a cup of coffee. 
 
 " The first thing to do," he began, kindly, " is to fill the 
 kettie with water fresh drawn from the well. Never make 
 coffee or tea with water that's been boiled two or three 
 times. Now, I'll give the kettle a good rinsing, so as to 
 make sure you start with it clean." 
 
 Having accomplished this, he filled the vessel at the well 
 and placed it on the fire, remarking as he did so ," Your 
 mother can cook a little, can't she?" 
 
 "I s'pose so," Jane replied. "When father was livin' 
 mother said she kept a girl. Since then, we've visited 
 round. But she'll learn, and if she can't, I can." 
 
 "What on earth — but there's no use of talking. When 
 the water boils, bubbles up and down, you know, call me. 
 I suppose you and your mother can get the rest of the 
 breakfast?— Oh, good morning, Mrs. Mumpson. I was 
 just showing Jane about the coffee. You two can go on and 
 do all the rest, but don't touch the coffee till the kettle boils, 
 and then I'll come in and show you my way, and, if you 
 please, I don't wish it any other way." 
 
MRS. MUMPSON TAKES UP HER BURDENS. 4 1 
 
 " Oh, certainly, certainly," began Mrs. Mumpson, but 
 Holcroft waited to hear no more. 
 
 " She's a woman," he muttered, " and I'll say nothing 
 rude or ugly to her, but I sha'n't listen to her talk half a 
 minute when I can help myself; and if she won't do any 
 thing but talk — well, we'll see, we'll see. A few hours in 
 the dairy will show whether she can use any thing besides 
 her tongue." 
 
 As soon as they were alone Jane turned sharply on her 
 mother suid said, " Now you've got to do something to help. 
 At cousin Lemuel's and other places they wouldn't let us 
 help. Anyhow, they wouldn't let me. He spects us both 
 to work, and pays you for it. I tell you agin, he won't let 
 us stay here unless we do. I won't go visitin' round any 
 more, feelin' like a stray cat in every house I go to. You've 
 got to work, and talk less." 
 
 " Why Jane ! ha^ you talk ! " 
 
 " I talk sense. Come, help me get breakfast." 
 
 " Do you think that's a proper way for a child to address 
 a parent?" 
 
 " No matter what I think. Come and help. You'll soon 
 know what he thinks if we keep breakfast waitin'." 
 
 " Well, I'll do such menial work until he gets a girl, and 
 then he shall learn that he can't expect one with such re- 
 specterble connections " — 
 
 " Hope I may never see any of 'em agin," interrupted 
 Jane, shortly, and then she relapsed into silence while her 
 mother rambled on in her characteristic way, making singu- 
 larly inapt efforts to assist in the task before them. 
 
 As Holcroft rose from milking a cow he found Jane beside 
 him. A ghost could not have come more silently, and again 
 her stealthy ways gave him an unpleasant sensation. " Kettle 
 is boilin'," she said, and was gone. 
 
 He shook his head and muttered, " Queer tribe, these 
 
42 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 Mumpsons. I've only to get an odd fish of a girl to help 
 and I'll have something like a menagerie in the house." He 
 carried his pails of foaming milk, to the dairy, and then 
 entered the kitchen. 
 
 " I've only a minute," he began, hastily, seeking to fore- 
 stall the widow. " Yes, the kettle's boiling all right. First 
 scald out the coffee-pot — put three-quarters of a cup of 
 ground coffee into the pot, break an egg into it, so ; pour 
 on the egg and coffee half a cup of cold water and stir it all 
 up well, this way. Next pour in about a pint of boiling 
 water from the kettle, set the pot on the stove and let it — 
 the coffee, I mean — cook twenty minutes, reriiember, not 
 less than twenty minutes. I'll be back to breakfast by that 
 time. Now you know just how I want my coffee, don't 
 you?" looking at Jane. 
 
 Jane nodded, but Mrs. Mumpson began, " Oh, certainly, 
 certainly. Boil an egg twenty minutes, add half a cup of 
 cold water, and " — 
 
 " I know," interrupted Jane, " I can always do as you 
 did." 
 
 Holcroft again escaped to the barn, and eventually re- 
 turned with a deep sigh. " I'll have to face a good deal of 
 her music this morning," he thought, "but I shall have at 
 least a good cup of coffee to brace me." 
 
 Mrs. Miimpson did not abandon the suggestion that grace 
 should be said, — she never abandoned any thing, — but the 
 farmer, in accordance with his purpose to be civil, yet pay 
 no attentfon to her obtrusive ways, gave no heed to her hint. 
 He thought Jane looked apprehensive, and soon learned the 
 reason. His coffee was at least hot, but seemed exceedingly 
 weak. 
 
 " I hope now that it's just right," said Mrs. Mumpson 
 complacently, " and feeling sure that it was made just to 
 suit you, I filled the coffee-pot full from the ketde. We can 
 
M/IS. MUMPSON TAKES UP HER BURDENS. 43 
 
 drink what we desire for breakfast and then the rest can 
 be set aside until dinner time and warmed over. Then 
 you'll have it just to suit you for the next meal, and we, 
 at the same time, will be practising econermy. It shall 
 now be my great aim to help you econermize. Any 
 coarse, menial hands can work, but the great thing to be 
 considered is a caretaker, one who, by thoughtfulness and 
 the employment of her mind, will make the labor of others 
 affective." 
 
 During this speech, Holcroft could only stare at the 
 woman. The rapid motion of her thin jaw seemed to fasci- 
 nate him, and he was in perplexity over not merely her rapid 
 utterance, but also the queries. Had she maliciously spoiled 
 the coffee? or didn't she know any better? " I can't make 
 her out," he thought, " but she shall learn that I have a will 
 of my own," and he quietly rose, took the coffee-pot and 
 poured its contents out of doors ; then went through the 
 whole process of making his favorite beverage again, saying 
 coldly, " Jane, you had better watch close this time. I don't 
 wish any one to touch the coffee-pot but you." 
 
 Even Mrs. Mumpson was a little abashed by his manner, 
 but when he resumed his breakfast she speedily recovered 
 her complacency and volubility. " I've always heard," she 
 said, with her little cackling laugh, " that men would be 
 extravergant, especially in some things. There are some 
 things they're fidgety about and will have just so. Well, 
 well, who has a better right than a well-to-do, fore-handed 
 man? Woman is to complement the man, and it should 
 be her aim to study the great — the great — shall we say 
 reason, for her being? which is adaptation," and she ut- 
 tered the word with feeling, assured that Holcroft could 
 not fail of being impressed by it. The poor man was 
 bolting such food as had been prepared in his haste to get 
 away. 
 
44 HE FELL IN- LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 "Yes," continued the widow, "adaptation is woman's 
 mission and " — 
 
 "Really, Mrs. Mumpson, your and Jane's mission this 
 morning will be to get as much butter as possible out of the 
 cream and milk on hand. I'll set the old dog on the wheel, 
 and start the churn within half an hour," and he rose with 
 the thought, "I'd rather finish my breakfast on milk and 
 coffee by and by than stand this." And he said, " Please 
 let the coffee be until I come in to show you about taking 
 out and working the butter." 
 
 The scenes in the dairy need not be dwelt upon. He 
 saw that Jane might be taught, and that she would probably 
 try to do all that her strength permitted. It was perfectly 
 clear that Mrs. Mumpson was not only ignorant of the duties 
 which he had employed her to perform, but that she was 
 also too pre-occupied with her talk and notions of gentility 
 ever to learn. He was already satisfied that in inducing him 
 to engage her, Lemuel Weeks had played him a trick, but 
 there seemed no other resource than to fulfil his agreement. 
 With Mrs. Mumpson in the house, there might be less diffi- 
 culty in securing and keeping a hired girl who, with Jane, 
 might do the essential work. But the future looked so 
 unpromising that even the strong coffee could not sustain 
 his spirits. The hopefulness of the early morning departed, 
 leaving nothing but dreary uncertainty. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson was bent upon accompanying him to town 
 and engaging the girl herself. " There would be great pro- 
 priety in my doing so," she argued at dinner, "and propri- 
 ety is something that adorns all the human race. There 
 would be no danger of my getting any of the peculiar females 
 such as you have been affiicted with. As I am to superin- 
 tend her labors, she will look up to me with respect and 
 humility if she learns from the first to recognize in me a 
 superior on whom she will be dependent for her daily bread. 
 
M/iS. MUMPSON TAKES UP HER BURDENS. 45 
 
 No shifdess hussy would impose upon me. I would bring- 
 home — how sweet the word sounds ! — a model of industry 
 and patient endurance. She would be deferential, she would 
 know her place, too. Every thing would go like clockwork 
 in our home. I'll put on my things at once and " — 
 
 " Excuse me, Mrs. Mumpson. It would not be right to 
 leave Jane here alone. Moreover, I'd rather engage my own 
 help." 
 
 " But, my dear Mr. Holcroft, you don't realize — men 
 never do realize — that you will have a long, lonely ride 
 with a female of unknown — unknown antercedents. It will 
 be scarcely respecterble, and respecterbility should be man 
 and woman's chief aim. Jane is not a timid child, and in an 
 emergency like this, even if she was, she would gladly sacri- 
 fice herself to sustain the proprieties of life. Now that 
 your life has begun under new and better auspicies, I feel 
 that I ought to plead with you not to cloud your brightening 
 prospects by a thoughtless unregard of what society looks 
 upon as proper. The eyes of the community will now be 
 upon us " — 
 
 " You must excuse me, Mrs. Mumpson. All I ask of the 
 community is to keep their eyes on their own business, while 
 I attend to mine in my own way. The probabilities are that 
 the girl will come out on the stage Monday," and he rose 
 from the dinner table and hastily made his preparations for 
 departure. He was soon driving rapidly away, having a sort 
 of nervous apprehension lest Jane, or the widow, should 
 suddenly appear on the seat beside him. A basket of eggs 
 and- some inferior butter, with the burnt-out stove, were in 
 his wagon and his bank-book was in his pocket. It was 
 with sinking heart that he thought .of making further inroads 
 on his small accumulations. 
 
 Before he was out of sight, Mrs. Mumpson betook herself 
 to the rocking-chair and began to ^xpatiate on the blindness 
 
46 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 and obduracy, of men in general and of Mr. Holcroft in par- 
 ticular. "They are all much aUke," she complained, " and 
 are strangely neglectful of the proprieties of life. My dear, 
 deceased husband, your father, was becoming gradually sen- 
 serble of my value in guiding him in this respect, and in- 
 deed, I may add in all respects, when in the very prime of 
 his expanding manhood he was laid low. Of course, my 
 happiness was buried then and my heart can never throb 
 again, but I have a mission in the world ^ I feel it — and 
 here is a desolate home bereft of female influence and con- 
 solation and hitherto painfully devoid of respecterbihty. I 
 once called on the late Mrs. Holcroft,. and — I must say it 
 — I went away depressed by a sense of her lack of ability 
 to develop in her husband those qualities which would 
 make him an ornerment to society. She was a silent 
 woman, she lacked mind and ideas. She had seen little of 
 the world and knew not what was swaying people. There- 
 fore, her husband, having nothing else to think of, became 
 absorbed in the accumulation of dollars. Not that I object 
 to dollars, — they . have their proper place, — but minds 
 should be fixed on all things. We should take a deep 
 personal interest in our fellow beings, and thus we grow 
 broad. As I was saying, Mr. Holcroft was not developed 
 by his late spouse. He needs awakening, arousing, stimu- 
 lating, drawing out, and such I feel to be my mission. 
 I must be patient ; I cannot expect the habits of years to 
 pass away under a different kind of female influence, at 
 once." 
 
 Jane had been stolidly washing and putting away dishes 
 during this partial address to herself and partial soliloquy, 
 but now remarked, " You and me will pass away in a week 
 if you go on as you've begun. I can see it comin'. Then 
 where'U we go to ? " 
 
 " Your words, Jane, only show that you are an ignorant, 
 
MRS. MUMPSON TAKES UP HER BURDENS. 47 
 
 short-sighted child. Do you suppose that a woman of my 
 years and experience would make no, better provision for the 
 future than a man's changeful mind — a warped and unde- 
 veloped mind at that? No ; I have an agreement with Mr. 
 Holcroft. I shall be a member of his household for three 
 months at least, and long before that he will begin to see 
 every thing in a new light. It will gradually dawn upon hira 
 that he has been defrauded of proper female influence and 
 society. Now, he is crude, he thinks only of work and 
 accumulating, but when the work is done by a menial 
 female's hands and his mind is more at rest, there will begin 
 to steal in upon hina the cravings of his mind. He will see 
 that material things are not all in all." 
 
 "P'raps he will. I don't half know what you're talkin' 
 about. 'Fi's you I'd learn to work and do things as he 
 wants 'em. That's what I'm goin' to do. Shall I go now 
 and make up his bed and tidy his room? " 
 
 "I think I will accompany you, Jane, and see that your 
 task is properly performed." 
 
 " Of course you want to see every thin' in the room, just 
 as I do." 
 
 " As housekeeper, I should see every thing that is under 
 my care. That is the right way to look at the matter." 
 
 "Well, come and look then." 
 
 "You are becoming strangely disrerspectful, Jane." 
 
 " Can't help it," replied the girl, " I'm gettin' mad. We've 
 been elbowed around long's I can remember, at least I've 
 been, and now we're in a place where we've a right to be, 
 and you do nothin' but talk, talk, talk, when he hates talk. 
 Now you'll go up in his room and you'll see every thin' in 
 it, so you could tell it all off to-morrow. Why, can't you 
 see he hates talk and wants somethin' done?" 
 
 "Jane," said Mrs. Mumpson, in her most severe and dig- 
 nified manner, "you are not only disrerspectful to your 
 
48 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 parent, but you're a time-server. What Mr. Holcroft wants 
 is a very secondary matter ; what is best for him is the chief 
 consideration. But I have touched on things far above your 
 comprehension. Come, you can make up the bed, and I 
 shall inspect as becomes my station." 
 
A MARRIAGE? ' 49 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A MARRIAGE? 
 
 IN a quiet side street of the market town in which Mr. 
 Holcroft was accustomed to dispose of his farm produce, 
 was a three-story tenement house. A family occupied each 
 floor, those dwelling in the first two stories being plain, 
 respectable people of the mechanic class. The rooms in 
 the third story were, of course, the cheapest, but even from 
 the street might be seen evidences that more money had 
 been spent upon them than could have been saved in rent. 
 Lace curtains were looped aside from the windows, through 
 which were caught glimpses of flowers that must have come 
 from a greenhouse. We have only to enter these apartments 
 to find that the suggestion of refined taste is amply fulfilled. 
 While nothing is costly, there is a touch of grace, a hint of 
 beauty in every thing permitting simple adornment. The 
 mistress of these rooms is not satisfied with neatness and 
 order merely ; it is her instinct to add something to please 
 the eye, a need essential to her, yet too often conspicuously 
 absent in rented quarters of a similar character. 
 
 It is remarkable to what a degree people's abodes are a 
 reflex of themselves. Mrs. Alida Ostrom had been brought 
 to these rooms a happy bride but a few months since. They 
 were then bare and not very clean. Her husband had seemed 
 bent on indulging her so far as his limited means permitted. 
 He had declared that his income was so modest that he 
 could afford nothing better than these cheap rooms in an 
 
50 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 obscure street, but she had been abundantly content, for she 
 had known even the extremity of poverty. 
 
 Alida Ostrom had passed beyond the period of girlhood, 
 with its superficial desires and ambitions. When her hus- 
 band first met her, she was a woman of thirty and had been 
 chastened by deep sorrows and some bitter experiences. 
 Years before, she and her mother had come to this town 
 from a New England city in the hope of bettering their cir- 
 cumstances. They had no weapons other than their needles 
 with which to fight life's battle, but they were industrious 
 and frugal, — characteristic traits which won the confidence 
 of the shopkeepers for whom they worked. All went as well, 
 perhaps, as they could expect, for two or three years, their 
 secluded lives passing uneventfully and, to a certain extent, 
 happily. They had time to read some good books obtained 
 at a public library ; they enjoyed an occasional holiday in 
 the country ; and they went to church twice every Sunday 
 when it was not stormy. The mother usually dozed in the 
 obscuire seat near the door, which they occupied, for she 
 was getting old, and the toil of the long week wearied her. 
 AKda, on the contrary, was closely attentive. Her mind 
 seemed to crave all the sustenance it could get from every 
 source, and her reverential manner indicated that the hopes 
 inspired by her faith were dear and cherished. Although 
 they lived such quiet lives and kept themselves apart from 
 their neighbors, there was no mystery about them which 
 awakened surmises. " They've seen better days," was the 
 common remark when they were, spoken of; and this was 
 true. While they had no desire to be social with the people 
 among whom they lived, they did not awaken prejudices by 
 the assertion of superiority. Indeed, it was seen that the 
 two women had all they could do to earn their livelihood, 
 and they were left to do this in peace. 
 
 When Alida Armstrong — for that was her maiden name — 
 
A MARRIAGE? SI 
 
 carried her own and her mother's work to and from the 
 shops, she often encountered admiring glances. She was 
 not exactly pretty, but she had the good, refined face which 
 is often n^ore attracti\'e than the merely pretty one, and she 
 possessed a trim, rounded figure which she knew how to 
 clothe with taste from the simplest and most inexpensive 
 materials. Nor did she seek to dress above her station. 
 \Vhen passing along the street, any discerning person would 
 recognize that she was a working girl ; only the superficial 
 would look upon her as a common-place girl. There was 
 something in her modest air and graceful, elastic carriage 
 which suggested the thought to many observers, " She has 
 seen better days." 
 
 The memory of these days which had promised immunity 
 from wearing toil, anxiety and poverty, was a barrier be- 
 tween the two women and their present world. ~ Death had 
 bereft them of husband and father, and such property as he 
 had left had been lost in a bad investment. Learning that 
 they were almost penniless, they had patiently set about 
 earning honest bread. This they had succeeded in doing 
 as long as the mother kept her usual health. But the in- 
 firmities of age were creeping upon her. One winter, she 
 took a heavy cold and was very ill. She rallied only tem- 
 porarily in the milder days of spring. In the summer's 
 heat, her strength failed and she died. 
 
 During her mother's long illness, Alida was devotion it- 
 self. The strain upon her was severe indeed, for she not 
 only had to earn food for both, but there were also doctor's 
 bills, medicines and delicacies to pay for. The poor girl 
 grew thin from work by day, watching by night and from 
 fear and anxiety at all times. Their scanty savings were 
 exhausted ; articles were sold from their rooms ; the few 
 precious heirlooms of silver and china were disposed of; 
 Alida even denied herself the food she needed rather than 
 
52 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 ask for help or permit her mother to want for any thing 
 which ministered to their vain hopes of renewed health. 
 
 What she should have done she scarcely knew had not an 
 unexpected friend interested himself in her behalf. In one 
 of the men's clothing stores was a cutter from whom she 
 obtained work. Soon after he appeared in this shop he 
 began to manifest signs of interest in her. He was about 
 her own age, he had a good trade, and she often wondered 
 why he appeared so reticent and moody, as compared with 
 others in similar positions. But he always spoke kindly to 
 her, and when her mother's illness first developed, he 
 showed all the leniency permitted to him in regard to her 
 work. His apparent sympathy, and the need of explaining 
 why she was not able to finish her tasks as promptly as 
 usual, led her gradually to reveal to him the sad struggle in 
 which she was engaged. He promised to intercede in her 
 behalf with their mutual employers, and asked if he might 
 come to see her mother. 
 
 Recognizing how dependent she was upon this man's 
 good will, and seeing nothing in his conduct but kindness 
 and sympathy, she consented. His course and his words 
 confirmed all her good impressions and awakened on her 
 side corresponding sympathy united with a lively gratitude. 
 He told her that he also was a stranger in the town, that he 
 had but few acquaintances and no friends, that he had lost 
 relatives and was in no mood to go about like other young 
 men. His manner was marked apparently by nothing more 
 than interest and a wish to help her, and was untinged by 
 gallantry; so they gradually became good friends. When 
 he called Sunday afternoons, the mother looked at him 
 wistfully, in the hope that her daughter would not be left 
 without a protector. At last, the poor woman died, and 
 Alida was in sore distress, for she had no means with which 
 to bury her. Ostrom came and said in the kindest tones, — 
 
A MARRIAGE? 53 
 
 " You must let me lend you what you need and you can 
 pay me back with interest, if you wish. You won't be under 
 any obligation, for I have money lying idle in the bank. 
 When you have only yourself to support it will not take you 
 long to earn the sum." 
 
 There seemed nothing else for her to do and so it was 
 arranged. With tear-blinded eyes, she made her simple 
 mourning, and within a week after her mother's death was 
 at work again, eager to repay her debt. He urged her not 
 to hasten — to take all the rest she could while the hot 
 weather lasted, and few evenings passed that he did not 
 come to take her out for a walk through the quieter streets. 
 
 By this time he had won her confidence completely, and 
 her heart overflowed with gratitude. Of course she was not 
 so unsophisticated as not to know whither all this attention 
 was tending, but it was a great relief to her mind that his 
 courtship was so quiet and undemonstrative. Her heart 
 was sore and grief-stricken and she was not conscious of 
 any other feeling towards him than the deepest gratitude 
 and wish to make such return as was within her power. He 
 was apparently very frank in regard to his past life, and 
 nothing was said which excited her suspicions. Indeed, 
 she felt that it would be disloyalty to think of questioning 
 or surmising evil of one who had proved himself so triie a 
 friend in her sore need. She was therefore somewhat pre- 
 pared for the words he spoke one warm September day, as 
 they sat together in a little shaded park. 
 
 " Alida," he said, a little nervously, "we are both strangers 
 and alone in this world, but surely we are no longer strangers 
 to each other. Let us go quietly to some minister and be 
 married. That is the best way for you to pay your debt and 
 keep me always in debt to you." 
 
 She was silent a moment, then faltered, " I'd rather pay 
 all my debt first." 
 
54 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 "What debts can there be between husband and. wife? 
 Come now, let us look at the matter sensibly. I don't want 
 to frighten you. Things -will go on much the 'same. We 
 can take quiet rooms, I will bring work to you instead of 
 your having to go after it. It's nobody's business but our 
 own. We've not a circle of relations to consult or invite. 
 We can go to some parsonage, the minister's family will be 
 the witnesses; then I'll leave you at your room-as usual, and 
 no one will be any the wiser till I've found a place where we 
 can go to housekeeping. That won't be long, I can tell 
 you." 
 
 He placed the matter in such a simple, natural light that 
 she did not know how to refuse. 
 
 " Perhaps I do not love you as much as you ought to be 
 loved, and deserve to be in view of all your kindness," she 
 tried to explain. " I feel I ought to be very truthful and 
 not deceive you in the least, as I know you would not de- 
 ceive me." So -strong a shiver passed through his frame 
 that she exclaimed, " You are taking cold or you don't feel 
 well." 
 
 " Oh, it's nothing," he said, hastily, " only the night air ; 
 and then a fellow always feels a little nervous, I suppose, 
 when he's asking for something on which his happiness de- 
 pends. I'm satisfied with such feeling and good-will as you 
 have for me and will be only too glad to get you just as you 
 are. Come, before it is too late in the evening." 
 
 " Is your heart bent on this, after what I have said, 
 Wilson?" 
 
 " Yes, yes indeed," clasping her hand and drawing her to 
 her feet. 
 
 " It would seem very ungrateful in me to refuse, after all 
 you have done for me and mother, if you think it's right 
 and best. Will you go to the minister whose church I 
 attended, and who came to see mother? " 
 
A MARRIAGE? 55 
 
 "Certainly, any one you like," and he put her hand on 
 his arm and led her away. 
 
 The clergyman listened sympathetically to her brief his- 
 tory of Ostrom's kindness, then performed a simple cere- 
 mony which his wife and daughters witnessed. As they 
 were about to depart he said, " I will send you a certificate." 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself to do that," said the groom. 
 " I'll call for it some evening soon." 
 
 Never had she seen Ostrom in such gay spirits as on their 
 return ; and, woman-like, she was happy chiefly because 
 she had made him happy. She also felt a glad sense of 
 security. Her mother's dying wish had been fulfilled ; she 
 had now a protector, and would soon have a home instead 
 of a boarding-place among strangers. 
 
 Her husband speedily found the rooms to which the 
 reader has been introduced. The street on which they 
 were located was no thoroughfare. Its farther end was closed 
 by a fence and beyond were fields. With the exception of 
 those who dwelt upon it or had business with the residents, 
 few people came thither. Jo this locality, Ostrom brought 
 his bride, and selected rooms whose windows were above 
 those of the surrounding houses. So far from regretting 
 this isolation and remoteness from the central life of the 
 town, Alida's feelings sanctioned his choice. The sense of 
 possessing security and a refuge was increased, and it was 
 as natural for her to set about making the rooms horflelike 
 as it was to breathe. Her husband appeared to have ex- 
 hausted his tendencies towards close economy in the choice 
 of apartments, and she was given more money than she 
 desired with which to furnish and decorate. He said, " Fix 
 every- thing up to suit your mind and I'll be satisfied." 
 
 This she did with such skill, taste and good management 
 that she returned a large portion of the sum he had given 
 her, whereupon he laughingly remarked that she had already 
 
56 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 saved more than she owed him. He seemed disinclined to 
 accompany her in the selection of their simple outfit, but 
 professed himself so pleased with- her choice of every thing 
 that she was gratified and happy in the thought of relieving 
 him from trouble. 
 
 Thus their married life began under what appeared to her 
 the most promising and congenial circumstances. She soon 
 insisted on having work again,- and her busy fingers did much 
 to increase his income. 
 
 AKda was not an exacting woman and recognized from 
 the beginning that her husband would naturally have peculiar 
 ways of his own. Unlike Mrs. Mumpson, she' never expa- 
 tiated on " adaptation," but Ostrom soon learned, with much 
 injvard relief, that his wife would accept unquestioningly 
 what appeared to be his habits and preferences. He went 
 early to his place of work, taking the nice litde lunch which 
 she prepared, and returned iri the dusk of the evening when 
 he always found a warm dinner in readiness. After this, he 
 was ready enough to walk with her, but, as before, chose the 
 least frequented streets. Places of amusement and resort 
 seemed distasteful. On Sundays, he enjoyed a ramble in 
 the country as long as the season permitted and then 
 showed a great disinclination to leave the fireside. For a 
 time, he went with her in the evening to church, but gradu- 
 ally persuaded her to remain at home and read or talk to 
 him.' 
 
 His wife felt that she had little cause to complain of his 
 quiet ways and methodical habits. He had exhibited them 
 before marriage and they were conducive to her absolute 
 sense of proprietorship in him, — an assurance so dear to a 
 woman's heart. The pleasures of his home and her society 
 appeared to be all that he craved. At times, she had won- 
 dered a little at a certain air of apprehensiveness in his 
 manner when steps were heard upon the stairs, but as the 
 
A MARRIAGE? 57 
 
 quiet days and weeks passed, such manifestations of ner- 
 vousness ceased. Occasionally, he would start violently and 
 mutter strange words in his sleep, but nothing disturbed the 
 growing sense of security and satisfaction in Alida's heart. 
 The charm of a regular, quiet life grows upon one who has 
 a nature fitted for it, and this was true to an unusual degree 
 of Alida Ostrom. Her content was also increased by the 
 fact that her husband was able each month to deposit a 
 goodly portion of their united earnings in a savings bank. 
 
 Every day, every week, was so like the preceding ones 
 that it seemed as if their happy life might go on forever. 
 She was gladly conscious that there was more than gratitude 
 and good-will in her heart. She now cherished a deep 
 affection for her husband and felt that he had become essen- 
 tial to her life. 
 
 " Oh, how happy mother would be if she knew how safe 
 and protected I am," she murmured one March evening, as 
 she was preparing her husband's dinner. " Leaving me 
 alone in the world was far worse to her than dying." 
 
 At that very moment a gaunt looking woman, with a child 
 in her arms, stood in the twilight on the opposite side of the 
 street, looking up at the windows. 
 
58 HE FELL J N LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FROM HOME TO THE STREET. 
 
 AS the shadows of the gloomy March evening deepened, 
 Alida hghted the lamp and was then a little surprised 
 to hear a knock at the door. No presentiment of trouble 
 crossed her mind ; she merely thought that one of her 
 neighbors on the lower floors had stepped up to borrow 
 something. 
 
 " Come in," she cried, as she adjusted the shade of the 
 lamp. 
 
 A tall, thin, pale woman entered, carrying a child that 
 was partly hidden by a thin shawl, their only outer protec- 
 tion against the chill winds which had been blustering all 
 day. Alida looked at the stranger inquiringly and kindly, 
 expecting an appeal for charity. The woman sank into a 
 chair as if exhausted and fixed her dark hollow eyes on Mrs. 
 Ostrom. She appeared consumed by a terrible curiosity. 
 
 Alida wondered at the strange chill of apprehension with 
 which she encountered this gaze. It was so intent, so search- 
 ing, yet so utterly devoid of a trace of good-will. She began 
 gently, " Can I do any thing for you ? " 
 
 For a moment or two longer there was no response other 
 than the same cold, questioning scrutiny, as if, instead of a 
 sweet-faced wdman, something monstrously unnatural was 
 present. At last, in slow, icy utterance, came the words, 
 " So you are — her." 
 
 " Is the woman insane ? " thought Alida. " Why else does 
 
FROM HQME TO THE STREET. 59 
 
 she look at me so? Oh, that Wilson would come ! I'm 
 sorry for you, my good woman," she began, kindly. "You 
 are laboring under some mistake. My husband " — 
 
 " Your husband ! " exclaimed the stranger, with an inde- 
 scribable accent of scorn and reproach. 
 
 " Yes," replied Alida with quiet dignity. " My husband 
 will be home soon and he will protect me. You have no 
 right to enter my rooms and act as you do. If you are sick 
 and in trouble, I and my husband " — 
 
 " Please tell me, miss, how he became jc^/^r husband? " 
 
 " By lawful marriage, by my pastor." 
 
 "We'll soon see how lawful it was," replied the woman, 
 with a bitter laugh. " I'd like you to tell me how often a 
 man can be married lawfully." 
 
 "What do you mean?" cried AHda, w'ith a sudden flash 
 in her blue eyes. Then, as if reproaching herself, she added 
 kindly, " Pardon me. I see you are not well. You do not 
 realize what you are saying or where you are. Take a seat 
 nearer the fire, and when Mr. Ostrom comes from his work 
 he'll take you to your friends." 
 
 All the while she was speaking the woman regarded her 
 with a hard, stony gaze ; then replied, coldly and decisively, 
 "You are wrong, miss'' — how that title grated on Alida's 
 ears ! — "I am neither insane nor drunk. I do know what 
 I am saying and where I am. You are playing a bold game 
 or else you have been deceived, and very easily deceived 
 too. They say some women are so eager to be married that 
 they ask no questions, but jump at the first chance. Whether 
 deceived or deceiving, it doesn't matter now. But you and 
 he shall learn that there is a law in the land which will pro- 
 tect an honest woman in her sacred rights. You needn't 
 look so shocked and bewildered. You are not a young, 
 giddy girl if I may judge from your face. What else could 
 you expect when you took up with a stranger you knew 
 
6o HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 nothing about? Do you know that likeness? " and she drew 
 from her bosom a daguerreotype. 
 
 AUda waved it away as she said indignantly, "I won't 
 believe ill of my husband. I " — 
 
 " No, miss," interrupted the woman, sternly, " you are 
 right for once. You won't indeed believe ill oi your husband, 
 but you'll have to believe ill of mine. There's no use of 
 your putting on such airs any longer. No matter how rash 
 and silly you may have been, if you have a spark of 
 honesty you'll be open to proof. If you and he try to brazen 
 it out the law will open both your eyes. Look at that like- 
 ness, look at these letters ; and I have other proof and wit- 
 nesses which can't be disputed. The name of the man you 
 are living with is' not Wilson Ostrom. His name is Henry 
 Ferguson. I am Mrs. Ferguson, and I, have my marriage 
 certificate, and — what ! are you goirig to faint ? Well, I 
 can wait till you recover and till he comes," and she coolly 
 sat down again. 
 
 Alida had glanced at the proofs which the woman had 
 thrust into her hands, then staggered back to a lounge that 
 stood near. She might have fainted, but at that awful 
 moment she heard a familiar step on the stairs. She was 
 facing the door ; the terrible stranger sat at one side, with 
 her back towards it. 
 
 When Ostrorn entered he first saw Alida looking pale and 
 ill. He hastened towards her exclaiming, " Why Lida, dear, 
 what is the matter? You are sick ! " , 
 
 Instinctively she sprung to his arms, crying, " Oh, thank 
 God ! you've come. Take away this awful woman." 
 
 " Yes, Henry Ferguson, it's very proper you should take 
 me away from a place like this." 
 
 As the man who had called himself Wilson Ostrom heard 
 that voice he trembled like an aspen ; his clasp of Alida 
 relaxed, his arms dropped to his side and, as he sunk into a 
 
FROM HOME TO THE STREET. 6 1 
 
 chair and covered his face with his hands, he groaned, 
 " Lost." 
 
 " Found out, you mean," was the woman's reply. 
 
 Step by step, with horror-stricken eyes, Alida retreated 
 from the man to whose protection and embrace she had 
 flown. "Then it's true? " she said in a hoarse whisper. 
 
 He was speechless. 
 
 "You are wilfully blind now, miss, if you don't see it's 
 true," was the stranger's biting comment. 
 
 Paying no heed to her, Alida's eyes rested on the man 
 whom she had believed to be her husband. She took an 
 irresolute step towards him. "Speak, Wilson," she cried. 
 " I gave you my whole faith and no one shall destroy it but 
 yourself. Speak, explain, show me that there's some horrible 
 mistake.'' 
 
 " Lida," said the man, lifting his bloodless face, " if you 
 knew all the circumstances " — - 
 
 " She shall know them ! " half shrieked the woman, as if 
 at last stung to fury. "I see that you both hope to get 
 through this affair with a little high tragedy, then escape and 
 come together again in some other hiding place. As for 
 this creature, she can go where she pleases, after hearing the 
 truth ; but you, Henry Ferguson, have got to do your duty 
 by me and your child or go to prison. — Let me tell you, 
 miss, that this man was also married to me by a minister. 
 I have my certificate and can produce witnesses. There's 
 one little point you'll do well to consider," she continued, 
 in bitter sarcasm, '' he married me first. I suppose you are 
 not so young and innocent as not to know where this fact 
 places yo.u. He courted and won me as other girls are 
 courted and married. He promised me all that he ever 
 promised you. Then, when I lost my rosy cheeks — when 
 I became sick and feeble from child-bearing, he desertefl 
 and left me almost penniless. You needn't think you will 
 
62 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 have to take my word for this. I have proof enough. — And 
 now, Henry Ferguson, I've a few words for you and then 
 you must take your choice. You can't escape. I and my 
 brother have tracked you here. You can't leave these rooms 
 without going to prison. You'd be taken at the very door. 
 But I give you one more chance. If you will promise before 
 God to do your duty by me and your child, I'll forgive 
 as far as a wronged woman can forgive. Neither I or my 
 brother will take proceedings against you. What this woman 
 will do I don't know. If she prosecutes you, and you are 
 true to me, I'll stand by you, but I won't stand another false 
 step or a false word from you." 
 
 Ferguson had again sunk into his chair, buried his face in 
 his hands and sat trembling and speechless. Never for an 
 instant had Alida taken her eyes from him ; and now with 
 a long wailing cry, she exclaimed, " Thank God,- thank God ! 
 mother's dead." 
 
 This was now her .best consolation. She rushed into her 
 bed-chamber, and a moment later came out, wearing her hat 
 and cloak. Ferguson started up and was about to speak, 
 but she silenced him by a gesture, and her tones were sad 
 and stern as she said, " Mr. Ferguson, from your own man- 
 ner more truly than from this woman, I learn the truth. 
 You took advantage, of my misfortunes, my sorrow and 
 friendlessness to deceive me. You know how false are 
 your wife's words about my eagerness to be deceived and 
 married. But you have nothing to fear from me. I shall 
 not prosecute you, as she suggests, and I charge you be- 
 fore God to do your duty by your wife and child and never 
 to speak to me again." Turning, she hastened toward the 
 door. 
 
 "Where are you going? " Ferguson exclaimed, seeking to 
 intercept her. 
 
 She waved him off. " I don't know," she replied. " I've 
 
FROM HOME TO THE STREET. 63 
 
 no right to be here," and she fled down the stairway and 
 out into the darkness. 
 
 The child had not wakened. It was well that it had not 
 looked upon such a scene even in utter ignorance of its 
 meaning. 
 
64 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 holcroft's view of matrimony. 
 
 HOLCROFT was indeed very lonely as he drove through 
 the bare March fields and leafless woods on his way to 
 town. The sky had clouded again, like his prospects, and 
 he had the dreary sense of desolation which overwhelms a 
 quiet, domestic man who feels that his home and all to which 
 he clings is slipping from him. His lot was hard enough at 
 best and he had a bitter sense of being imposed upon and 
 wronged by Lemuel Weeks. It was now evident enough 
 that the widow and her daughter had been an intolerable 
 burden to his neighbor who had taken advantage of his need 
 and induced him to assume the burden through false repre- 
 sentations. To a man of Holcroft's simple, straightforward 
 nature, any phase of trickery was intensely repugnant, and 
 the fact that he had been overreached in a matter relating 
 to his dearest hopes galled him to the quick. He possessed 
 the strong, common sense of his class ; his wife had been 
 like him in this respect and her influence had intensified 
 the trait. Queer people with abnormal manners excited his 
 intense aversion. The most charitable view that he could 
 take of Mrs. Mumpson was that her mind — such as she had 
 — was unbalanced, that it was an impossibility for her to 
 see any subject or duty in a sensible hght or its right pro- 
 portions. Her course, so prejudicial to her own interests, 
 and her incessant and stilted talk, were proof to his mind 
 of a certain degree of insanity, and he had heard that peo- 
 
HOLCROFT'S VIEW OF MATRIMONY. 65 
 
 pie in this condition often united to their unnatural ways a 
 wonderful degree of cunning. Her child was almost as un- 
 canny as herself and gave him a shivering sense of discom- 
 fort whenever he caught her small, greenish eyes fixed upon 
 him. 
 
 " Yet she'll be the only one who'll earn her salt. I don't 
 see how I'm going to stand 'em, — I don't, indeed, but sup- 
 pose I'll have to for three months, or else sell out and clear 
 out." 
 
 By the time he reached town, a cold rain had set in. He 
 went at once to the intelligence office, but could obtain no 
 girl for Mrs. Mumpson to "superintend," nor any certain 
 promise of one. He did not much care, for he felt that 
 the new plan was not going to work. Having bartered all 
 his eggs for groceries, he sold the old stove and bought a 
 new one, then drew from the bank a little ready money. 
 Since his butter was so inferior, he took it to his friend 
 Tom Watterly, the keeper of the poor-house. 
 
 Prosperous Tom slapped his old friend on the back and 
 said, " You look awfully glum and chop-fallen, Jim. Come 
 now, don't look at the world as if it was made of tar, pitch, 
 and turpentine. I know your luck's been hard, but you 
 make it a sight harder by being so set in all your ways. 
 You think there's no place to live on God's earth but that 
 old up-and-down-hill farm of yours that I wouldn't take as 
 a gift. Why man alive, there's a dozen things you can turn 
 your hand to ; but if you will stay there, do as other men 
 do. Pick out a smart, handy woman that can make butter 
 yaller as gold that'll bring gold^ and not such limpsey- 
 slimpsy, ghostly looking stuff as you've brought me. Bein' 
 it's you, I'll take it and give as much for it as I'd pay for 
 better, but you can't run your old ranch in this fashion." 
 
 " I know it, Tom," replied Holcroft, ruefully. " I'm all 
 at sea ; but, as you say, I'm set in my ways, and I'd rather 
 
(^ HE FELL JN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 live on bread and milk and keep my farm than make money 
 anywhere else. I guess I'll have to give it all up, though, 
 and pull out, but it's like rooting up one of the old oaks in 
 the meadow lot. The fact is, Tom, I've been fooled into 
 one of the worst scrapes I've got into yet." 
 
 " I see how it is," said Tom, heartily and complacently, 
 " you want a practical, foresighted man to talk straight at 
 you for an hour or two and clear up the fog you're in. You 
 study and brood over Uttle things out there alone until they 
 seem mountains which you can't get over nohow, when, if 
 you'd take one good jump out, they'd be behind you. Now, 
 you've got to stay and take a bite with me, and then we'll 
 light our pipes and untangle this snarl. No backing out. 
 I can do you more good than all the preachin' you ever 
 heard. — Hey, there, Bill," shouting to one of the paupers 
 who was detailed for such work, " take this team to the 
 barn and feed 'em. — Come in, come in, old feller. You'll 
 find that Tom Watterly alius has a snack arid a good word 
 for an old crony." 
 
 Holcroft was easily persuaded, for he felt the need of 
 cheer, and he looked up to Tom as a very sagacious, practi- 
 cal man. So he said, " Perhaps you can see farther into a 
 millstone than I can, and if you can show me a way out of 
 my difficulties you'll be a friend sureenough." 
 
 " Why of course I can. Your difficulties are all here and 
 here," touching his bullet head and the region of his heart. 
 "There ain't no great difficulties in fact, but, after you've 
 brooded out there a week or two alone, you think you're 
 caught as fast as if you were in a bear-trap. — Here, Angy," 
 addressing his wife, " I've coaxed Holcroft to take supper 
 with us. You can hurry it up a little, can't you? " 
 
 Mrs. Watterly gave their guest a cold, limp hand and a 
 rather frigid welcome. But this did not disconcert him. 
 " It's only her way," he had always thought. " She looks 
 
HOLCROFT'S VIEW OF MATRIMONY. 67 
 
 after her husband's interests as mine did for me, and she 
 don't talk him to death." 
 
 This thought, in the main, summed up Mrs. Watterly's 
 best traits. She was a commonplace, narrow, selfish woman, 
 whose character is not worth sketching. Tom stood a little 
 in fear of her, and was usually careful not to impose extra 
 tasks, but since she helped him to save and get ahead, he 
 regarded her as a model wife. 
 
 Holcroft shared in his opinion and sighed deeply as lie 
 sat down to supper. " Ah, Tom," he said, " you're a lucky 
 man. You've got a wife that keeps every thing in doors up 
 to the mark, and gives you a chance to attend to your own 
 proper business. That's the way it was with mine. I never 
 knew what a lop-sided, helpless creature a man was until I 
 was left alone. You and I were lucky in getting the women 
 we did, but when my partner left me, she took all the luck 
 with her. That ain't the worst. She took what's more than 
 luck and money and every thing. I seenJed to lose with her 
 my grit and interest in most things. It'll seem foolishness 
 to you, but I can't take comfort in any thing much except 
 working that old farm that I've worked and played on ever 
 since I can remember any thing. You're not one of those 
 fools, Tom, that have to learn from their own experience. 
 Take a bit from mine, and be good to your wife while you 
 can. I'd give all I'm worth — I know that ain't much — if 
 I could say some things to my wife and do some things for 
 her that I didn't do." 
 
 Holcroft spoke in the simplicity of a full and remorseful 
 heart, but he unconsciously propitiated Mrs. Watterly in no 
 small degree. Indeed, she felt that he had quite repaid 
 her for his entertainment, and the usually taciturn woman 
 seconded his remarks with much emphasis. 
 
 " Well now, Angy," said Tom, " if you averaged up hus- 
 bands in these parts I guess you'd find you were faring 
 
68 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 rather better than most women-folks. I let you take the bit 
 in your teeth and go your own jog mostly. Now, own up, 
 don't I?" 
 
 " That wasn't my meaning, exactly, Tom," resumed Hol- 
 croft. " You and I could well afford to let our wives take 
 their own jog, for they always jogged steady and faithful and 
 didn't need any urging and guiding. But even a dumb 
 critter likes a good word' now and then and a little patting 
 on the back. It doesn't cost us any thing and does them a 
 sight of good. But we kind of let the chances slip by and 
 forget about it until like enough it's too late." 
 
 " Well," replied Tom, with a deprecatory look at his wife, 
 " Angy don't take to pettin' very much. She thinks it's a 
 kind of foolishness for such middle-aged people as we're 
 getting to be." 
 
 " A husband can show his consideration without blarney- 
 ing," remarked Mrs. Watterly, coldly. "When a man takes 
 on in that way, you may be sure he wants somethiiig extra 
 to pay for it." 
 
 After a Httle thought, Holcroft said, " I guess it's a good 
 way to pay for it between husband and wife." 
 
 " I^ok here, Jim, since you're so well up on the matrimo- 
 nial question, why in thunder don't you marry again ? That 
 would settle all your difficulties," and Tom looked at his 
 friend with a sort of wonder that he should hesitate to take 
 this practical, sensible course. 
 
 " It's very easy for you to say, ' Why don't ■ you marry 
 again?' If you were in my place you'd see that there are 
 things in the way of marrying for the sake of having a good 
 butter-maker and all that kind of thing.'' 
 
 " Mr. Watterly wouldn't be long in comforting himself," 
 remarked his wife. " His advice to you makes the course 
 he'd take mighty clear." 
 
 "Now, Angy," said Tom, reproachfully. "Well," he 
 
HOLCROFT'S VIEW OF MATRIMONY. 69 
 
 added, with a grin, " you're forewarned. So you've only to 
 take care of yourself and not give me a chance." 
 
 "The trouble is,'' Holcroft resumed, "I don't see how an 
 honest man is going to comfort himself unless it all comes 
 about in some natural sort of way. I suppose there are 
 people who can marry over and over again, just as easy as 
 they'd roll off a log. It ain't for me to to judge 'em, and I 
 don't understand how they do it. You are a very practical 
 man, Tom, but just you put yourself in my shoes and see 
 what you'd do. In the first place, I don't know of a woman 
 in the world that I'd think of marrying. That's saying noth- 
 ing against the women, — there's lots too good for me, — but 
 I don't know 'em and I can't go around and hunt 'em up. 
 Even if I could, with my shy, awkward ways, I wouldn't 
 feel half so nervous starting out on a bear hunt. Here's 
 difficulty right at the beginning. Supposing I found a nice, 
 sensible woman, such as I'd be willing to marry, there isn't 
 one chance in a hundred she'd look at an old fellow like me. 
 Another difficulty : Supposing she would, suppose she looked 
 me square in the eyes and said, ' So yOu truly want a wife ? ' 
 what in thunder would T say then? I don't want a wife, I 
 want a housekeeper, a butter-maker, one that would look 
 after my interests as if they were her own ; and if I could 
 hire a woman, that would do what I wish, I'd never think of 
 marrying. I can't tell a woman thatyl love her when I 
 don't. If I went to a minister with a woman I'd be deceiv- 
 ing him, and deceiving her and perjuring myself promiscu- 
 ously. I married once according to law and gospel and' I 
 was married through and through, and I can't do the thing 
 over again in any way that would seem to me like marrying 
 at all. The idea of me sitting by the fire and wishing that 
 the woman who sat on the t'other side of the stove was my 
 first wife ! Yet I couldn't help doing this any more than 
 breathing. Even if there was any chance of my succeed- 
 
^0 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 ing I can't see any thing square or honest in my going out 
 and hunting up a wife as a mere matter of business. I 
 know other people do it and I've thought a good deal about 
 it myself, but when it comes to the point of acting I find I 
 can't do it." 
 
 The two men now withdrew from the table to the fireside 
 and lighted their pipes. Mrs. Watterly stepped out for a 
 moment and Tom, looking over his shoulder to make sure 
 she was out of ear-shot, said under his breath, " But suppose 
 you found a woman that you could love and obey, and all 
 that?" 
 
 " Oh, of course, that would make every thing different. 
 I wouldn't begin with a lie then, and I know enough of my 
 wife to feel sure that she wouldn't be a sort of dog in the 
 irianger after she was dead. She was one of those good 
 souls that if she could speak her mind this minute she would 
 say, ' James, what's best and right for you is best and right.' 
 But it's just because she was such a good wife that I know 
 there's no use of trying to put any one in her place. Where 
 on earth could I find anybody, and how coiild we get ac- 
 quainted so that we'd know any thing about each other? 
 No, I must just scratch along for a short time as things are 
 and be on the lookout to sell or rent." 
 
 Tom smoked meditatively for a few moments, and then 
 remarked, " I guess that's your best way out." 
 
 " It ain't an easy way, either," said Holcroft. " Finding 
 a purchaser or tenant for a farm like mine is almost as hard 
 as finding a wife. Then, as I feel, leaving my place is next 
 to leaving the world." 
 
 Tom shook his head ruefully and admitted, " I declare, 
 Jim, when a feller comes to think it all over, you are in a 
 bad fix, especially as you feel. I thought I could talk you 
 over into practical, commonsense in no time. It's easy 
 enough, when one don't know all the bearin's of a case, to 
 
HOLCROFT'S VIEW OF MATRIMONY. J I 
 
 think carelessly, ' Oh, he ain'); as bad off as he thinks he is. 
 He can do this and that and the t'other thing.' But when 
 you come to look it all over, you find he can't, except at a 
 big loss. Of course, you can give away your farm on which 
 you were doing well and getting ahead, though how you did 
 it, I don't see. You'd have to about give it away if you 
 forced a sale, and where on earth you'll find a tenant who'll 
 pay any thing worth considering — but there's no use of 
 croaking. I wish I could help you, old feller. By jocks ! I 
 believe I can. There's an old woman here who's right smart 
 and handy when she can't get her bottle filled. I believe 
 she'd be glad to go with you, for she don't hke our board 
 and lodging over much." 
 
 "Do you think she'd go to-night?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, guess so. A little cold water'U be a good 
 change for -her." 
 
 Mrs. Wiggins was seen, and, feeling that any change would 
 be for the better, readily agreed to go for very moderate 
 wages. Holcroft looked dubiously at the woman's heavy 
 form and heavier face, but felt that it was the best he could 
 do. Squeezing Mrs. Watterly's cold, limp hand in a way 
 that would have thawed a lump of ice, he said "good-by ; " 
 and then declaring that he would rather do his own harness- 
 ing for a night ride, he went out into the storm. Tom put 
 on his rubber coat and went to the barn with his friend, 
 towards whom he cherished honest good-will. 
 
 " By jocks ! " he ejaculated, sympathetically, " but you 
 have hard lines, Jim. What in thunder would I do with two 
 such widdy women to look after my house 1 " 
 
72 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MRS. MUMPSON ACCEPTS HER MISSION. 
 
 AS Holcroft drove through the town, Mrs. Wiggins, who, 
 as matters were explained to her, had expressed her 
 views chiefly by affirmative nods, now began to use her 
 tongue with much fluency. 
 
 " Hi 'ave a friend 'erehabouts," she said, " an' she's been 
 a keepin' some of my things. Hi'Il be be'olden to ye, 
 master, hif ye'll jes stop a bit hat the door whiles hi gets 
 'em. Hif ye'll hadvance me a dollar or so on me wages 
 hit'U be a long time hafofe I trouble ye hagain." 
 
 The farmer had received too broad a hint not to know 
 that Mrs. Wiggins was intent on renewing her acquaintance 
 with her worst enemy. He briefly replied, therefore, " It's 
 too late to stop now. I'll be coming down soon again and 
 will get your things." 
 
 In vain Mrs. Wiggins expostulated, for he drove steadily 
 on. With a sort of grim humor, he thought of the meeting 
 of the two " widdy women," as Tom had characterized 
 them, and of Mrs. Mumpson's dismay at finding in the 
 " cheap girl " a dame of sixty, weighing not far from two 
 hundred. " If it wasn't such awfully serious business for 
 me," he thought, " it would be better'n going to a theatre to 
 see the two go on. If I haven't got three ' peculiar females ' 
 on my hands now, I'd like to hear of the man that has." 
 
 When Mrs. Wiggins found that she could not gain her 
 point, she subsided into utter silence. It soon became evi- 
 
MKS. MUMPSON ACCEPTS HER MISSION. 73 
 
 dent in the cloudy light of the moon that she was going to 
 sleep, for she so nodded and swayed about that the farmer 
 feared she would tumble out of the wagon. She occupied 
 a seat just back of his and filled it, too. The idea of step- 
 ping over, sitting beside her and holding her in, was inex- 
 pressibly repugnant to him. So he began talking to her, 
 and finally shouting at her, to keep her awake. 
 
 His efforts were useless. He glanced with rueful dismay 
 over his shoulder as he thought, " If she falls out, I don't 
 see how on earth I'll ever get her back again." 
 
 Fortunately, the seat slipped back a Httle and she soon 
 slid down into a sort of mountainous heap on the bottom of 
 the wagon, as unmindful of the rain as if it were a lullaby. 
 Now that his mind was at rest about her falling out, and 
 . knowing that he had a heavy load, Holcroft let the horses 
 take their own time along the miry highway. 
 
 Left to her own devices by Holcroft's absence, Mrs. 
 Mumpson had passed what she regarded as a very eventful 
 afternoon and evening. Not that any thing unusual had 
 happened, unless every thing she said and did may be looked 
 upon as unusual; but Mrs. Mumpson justly felt that the 
 critical periods of life are those upon which definite courses 
 of action are decided upon. In the secret recesses of her 
 heart — supposing her to possess such an organ —^ she had 
 partially admitted to herself, even before she had entered 
 Holcroft's door, that she might be persuaded into marrying 
 him ; but the inspection of his room, much dehberate 
 thought, and prolonged soliloquy, had convinced her that 
 she ought to "enter into nuptial relations" as her thought 
 formulated itself. It was a trait of Mrs. Mumpson's active 
 mind that when it once entered upon a line of thought it 
 was hurried along from conclusion to conclusion with won- 
 derful rapidity. 
 
 While Jane made up Mr. Holcroft's bed, her mother be- 
 
74 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 gan to inspect, and soon suffered keenly from a very painful 
 discovery. The farmer's meagre wardrobe and other be- 
 longings were soon rummaged over, but one large closet 
 and several bureau drawers were locked. " These are the 
 receptercles of the deceased Mrs. Holcroft's affects," she 
 said with compressed lips. " They are mouldering useless 
 away. Moth and rust will enter, while I, the caretaker, am 
 debarred. I should not be debarred. All the things in that 
 closet should be shaken out, aired, and carefully put back. 
 Who knows how useful they may be in the future ! Waste 
 is wicked. Indeed, there are few things more wicked than 
 waste. Now I think of it, I have some keys in my trunk." 
 
 " He won't like it," interposed Jane. 
 
 " In the responserble persition I have assumed," replied 
 Mrs. Mumpson, with dignity, " I must consider, not what he 
 wants, but what is best for him and what may be best for 
 others.'' 
 
 Jane had too much curiosity herself to make further ob- 
 jection and the keys were brought. It was astonishing what 
 a number of keys Mrs. Mumpson possessed, and she was 
 not long in finding those which would open the ordinary 
 locks thought by Holcroft to be ample protection. 
 
 "I was right," said Mrs. Mumpson, complacently. "A 
 musty odor exudes from these closed receptercles. Men 
 have no comprehension of the need of such caretakers as 
 1 am." 
 
 Every thing that had ever belonged to poor Mrs. Holcroft 
 was pulled out, taken to the window and examined, Jane 
 following, as usual, in the wake of her mother and putting 
 every thing to the same tests which her parent applied. 
 Mrs. Holcroft had been a careful woman, and the extent and 
 substantial character of her wardrobe proved that her hus- 
 band had not been close in his allowances to her. Mrs. 
 Mumpson's watery blue eyes grew positively animated as 
 
MUS. MUMPSON ACCEPTS HER MISSION. 75 
 
 she felt of and held up to the light one thing after another. 
 "Mrs. Holcroft was evidently unnaturally large,'' she re- 
 flected aloud, " but then these things could be made over, 
 and much material be left to repair them, from time to time. 
 The dresses are of sombre colors, becoming to a lady some- 
 what advanced in years, and of subdued taste." 
 
 By the time that the bed and all the chairs in the room 
 were littered with wearing apparel, Mr^. Mumpson said, 
 "Jane, I desire you to bring the rocking-chair. So many 
 thoughts are crowding upon me, that I must sit down and 
 think." 
 
 Jane did as requested, but remarked, " The sun is gettin' 
 low, and all these things'U have to be put back just as they 
 was or he'll be awful mad." 
 
 " Yes, Jane," replied Mrs. Mumpson abstractedly and 
 rocking gently, " you can put them back. Your mind is not 
 burdened hke mine, and you haven't offspring and the future 
 to provide for," and for a wonder, she relapsed into silence. 
 Possibly she possessed barely enough of womanhood to feel 
 that her present train of thought had better be kept to her- 
 self. She gradually rocked faster and faster, thus indicating 
 that she was rapidly approaching a conclusion. 
 
 Meanwhile, Jane was endeavoring to put things back as 
 they were before and found it no easy task. As the light de- 
 clined, she was overcome by a sort of panic, and, huddling 
 the things into the drawers as fast as possible, she locked 
 them up. Then, seizing her mother's hand and pulling the 
 abstracted woman to her feet, _sh? cried, " If he comes and 
 finds us here and no supper ready he'll turn us right out 
 into the rain." 
 
 Even Mrs. Mumpson felt that she was perhaps reaching 
 conclusions too fast and that some diplomacy might be 
 necessary to consummate her plans. Her views, however, 
 appeared to her so reasonable that she scarcely thought of 
 
^6 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 failure, having the happy faculty of realizing every thing in 
 advance whether it ever took place or not. 
 
 As she slowly descended the stairs with the rocking-chair, 
 she thought, "Nothing could be more suiterble. We are 
 both about the same age ; I am most respecterbly con- 
 nected — in fact, I regard myself as somewhat his superior in 
 this respect ; — he is painfully undeveloped and irreligious 
 and thus is in sore need of female influence ; he is lonely 
 and down-hearted, and in woman's voice there is a spell to 
 banish care ; worst of all, things are going to waste. I 
 must delib'rately face the great duty with which Providence 
 has brought me face to face. At first, he may be a little 
 blind to this great oppertunity of his life, — that. I must 
 expect, remembering the influence he was under so many 
 years — but I will be patient, and by tire proper use of 
 language, place every thing eventually before him in a way 
 that will cause him to yield in glad submission to my views of 
 the duties, the priviliges and the responserbilities of life." 
 
 So active was Mrs. Mumpson's mind that this train of 
 thought was complete by the time she had ensconced her- 
 self in the rocking-chair by the fir-eless kitchen stove. Once 
 more Jane seized her hand and dragged her up. "You 
 must help," said the child. "I spect him every minnit 
 and I'm scart half to death to think what he'll do, 'specially 
 if he finds out we've been rummagin'." 
 
 " Jane," said Mrs. Mumpson, severely, " that is not a proper 
 way of expressing yourself. I am housekeeper here, and 
 I've been inspecting." 
 
 "Shall I tell him you've been inspectin'?" asked the 
 girl, keenly. 
 
 " Children of your age should speak when they are spoken 
 to," replied her mother, still more severely. " You cannot 
 comprehend my motives and duties, and I should have to 
 punish you if you passed any remarks upon my actions." 
 
MRS. MUMPSON ACCEPTS HER MISSION. TJ 
 
 "Well," said Jane, apprehensively, "I only hope we'll 
 soon have a. chance to fix up them drawers, for if he should 
 open 'em we'd have to tramp again, and we will anyway if 
 you don't help me get supper." 
 
 "You are mistaken, Jane," responded Mrs. Mumpson, 
 with dignity. " We shall not leave this roof for three 
 months and that will give me ample time to open his eyes 
 to his true interests. I will condescend to these menial tasks 
 until he brings a girl who will yield the deference due to my 
 years and station in life." 
 
 Between them, after filling the room with smoke, they 
 kindled the kitchen fire. Jane insisted on making the 
 coffee and then helped her mother to prepare the rest of 
 the supper, doing, in fact, the greater part of the work. 
 Then they sat down to wait, and they waited so long that 
 Mrs. Mumpson began to express her disapproval by rocking 
 violently. At last, she said severely, " Jane, we will partake 
 of supper alone.'' 
 
 " I'd ruther wait till he comes." 
 
 " It's not proper that we should wait. He is not showing 
 me due respect. Come, do as I command." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson indulged in lofty and aggrieved remarks 
 throughout the meal and then returned to her rocker. At 
 last, her indignant sense of wrong reached such a point 
 that she commanded Jane to clear the table and put away 
 the things. 
 
 " I won't," said the child. 
 
 " What ! will you compel me to chastise you ? " 
 
 " Well, then, I'll tell him it was all your doin's." 
 
 "I shall tell him so myself. I shall remonstrate with 
 liim. The idea of his coming home alone at this time of 
 night, with an unknown female ! " 
 
 " One would think you was his aunt, to hear you talk," 
 remarked the girl, sullenly. 
 
78 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " I am a respecterble woman and most respecterbly con- 
 nected. My character and antercedents render me irrer- 
 proachful. This could not be said of a hussy, and a hussy 
 he'll probably bring — some flighty, immerture female that 
 will tax even my patience to train." 
 
 Another hour passed and the frown on Mrs. Mumpson's 
 brow grew positively awful. " To think," she muttered, 
 "that a man whom I have deemed it my duty to many 
 should stay out so and under such peculiar circumstances. 
 He must have a lesson which he can never forget." Then 
 aloud, to Jane, " Kindle a fire on the parlor hearth and let 
 this fire go out. He must find us in the most respecterble 
 room in the house — a room befitting my station." 
 
 " I declare, mother, you ain't got no sense at all," ex- 
 claimed the child, exasperated beyond measure. 
 
 "I'll teach you to use such unrerspectful language," 
 cried Mrs. Mumpson, darting from her chair like a hawk 
 and pouncing upon the unhappy child. 
 
 With ears tingling from a cuffing she could not soon for- 
 get, Jane lighted the parlor fire and sat down sniffling in 
 the farthest corner. 
 
 "There shall be only one mistress in this house," said 
 Mrs. Mumpson, who had now reached the loftiest plane of 
 virtuous indignation, " and its master shall learn that his 
 practices reflect upon even me as well as himself." 
 
 At last the sound of horses' feet was heard on the wet, 
 oozy ground, without. The irate widow did not rise, but 
 merely indicated her knowledge of Holcroft's arrival by 
 rocking more rapidly. 
 
 "Hello there, Jane," he shouted, "bring a light to the 
 kitchen.", 
 
 "Jane, remain," said Mrs. Mumpson, with an awful 
 look. 
 
 Holcroft stumbled through the dark kitchen to the parlor 
 
MRS. MUMPSON ACCEPTS HER MISSION. 7^ 
 
 door and looked with surprise at the group before him, — 
 Mrs. Mumpson apparently oblivious and rocking as if the 
 chair was possessed, and the child crying in a corner. 
 
 " Jane, didn't you hear me call for a light ? " he asked a 
 little sharply. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson rose with great dignity and began, " Mr. 
 Holcroft, I wish to remonstrate " — 
 
 " Oh, bother, I've brought a woman to help you, and we're 
 both wet through from this driving rain." 
 
 "You've brought a strange female at this time of" — 
 
 Holcroft's patience gave way, but he only said, quietly, 
 "You had better have a light in the kitchen within two 
 minutes. I warn you both. I also wish some hot coffee." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson had no comprehension of a man who 
 could be so quiet when he was angry, and she believed that 
 she might impress him with a due sense of the enormity of 
 his offence. " Mr. Holcroft, I scarcely feel that I can meet 
 a girl who has no more sense of decorum than to" — but 
 Jane, striking a match, revealed the fact that she was speak- 
 ing to empty air. 
 
 Mrs. Wiggins was at last so far aroused that she was 
 helped _ from the wagon and came shivering and dripping 
 towards the kitchen. She stood a moment in the doorway 
 and filled it, blinking confusedly at the light. There was an 
 absence of celerity in all Mrs. Wiggins's movements, and she 
 was therefore slow in the matter of waking up. Her aspect 
 and proportions almost took away Mrs. Mumpson's breath. 
 Here certainly was much to superintend, much more than 
 had been anticipated. Mrs. Wiggins was undoubtedly a 
 "peculiar female," as had been expected, but she was so 
 elderly and monstrous that Mrs. Mumpson felt some em- 
 barrassment in her purpose to overwhelm Holcroft vyith a 
 sense of the impropriety of his conduct. 
 
 Mrs, Wiggins took uncertain steps towards the rocking- 
 
8o HE FELL IN- LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 chair, and almost crushed it as she sat down. " Ye gives a 
 body a cold velcome," she remarked, rubbing her eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson had got out of her way as a minnow would 
 shun a leviathan. " May I ask your name? " she gasped. 
 
 "Viggins, Mrs. Viggins." 
 
 "Oh ! indeed ! You are a married woman? " 
 
 " No, hi'm a vidder. What's more, hi'm cold, an' drippin,' 
 an' 'ungry. Hi might 'a' better staid at the poor-us than 
 come to a place like this." 
 
 "What!" almost screamed Mrs. Mumpson, "are you a 
 pauper? " 
 
 " Hi tell ye hi'm a vidder, an' good as you be, for hall he 
 said," was the sullen reply. 
 
 " To think that, a respecterbly connected woman like me " 
 — -but for once Mrs. Mumpson found language inadequate. 
 Since Mrs. Wiggins occupied the rocking-chair, she hardly 
 knew what to do and plaintively declared, " I feel as if my 
 whole nervous system was giving way." 
 
 " No 'arm '11 be done hif hit does," remarked Mrs. Wig- 
 gins, who was not in an amiable mood. 
 
 " This from the female I'm to superintend 1 " gasped the 
 bewildered woman. 
 
 Her equanimity was still further disturbed by the entrance 
 of the farmer, who looked at the stove with a heavy frown. 
 
 " Why in the name of common-sense isn't there a fire ? " 
 he asked, "and supper on the table? Couldn't you hear 
 that it was raining and know we'd want some supper after a 
 long, cold ride?" 
 
 ■"Mr. Holcroft," began the widow, in some trepidation, 
 " I don't approve — such irregular habits " — 
 - " Madam," interrupted Holcroft, sternly, " did I agree to 
 do what you approved of? Your course is so peculiar that 
 I scarcely believe you are in your right mind. You had 
 better go to your room and try to recover your senses. If 
 
MSS. MUMPSON ACCEPTS HER MISSION. 8 1 
 
 I caii't have things in this house to suit me I'll have no one 
 in it. — Here, Jane, you can help." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson put her handkerchief to her eyes and de- 
 parted. She felt that this display of emotion would touch 
 Holcroft's feelings when he came to think the scene all 
 over. 
 
 Having kindled the fire, he said to Jane, " You and Mrs. 
 Wiggins get some coffee and supper in short order and have 
 it ready when I come in," and he hastened out to care for 
 his horses. If the old woman was slow, she knew just how 
 to make every motion effective, and a good supper was soon 
 ready. 
 
 " Why didn't you keep up a fire, Jane ? " Holcroft asked. 
 
 " She wouldn't let me. She said how you must be taught 
 a lesson,'' replied the girl, feeling that she must choose be- 
 tween two potentates, and deciding quickly in favor of the 
 farmer. She had been losing faith in her mother's wisdom 
 a long time, and this night's experience had banished the 
 last shred of it. 
 
 Some rather bitter words rose to Holcroft's lips, but he 
 restrained them. He felt that he ought not to disparage 
 the mother to the child. As Mrs. Wiggins grew warm, and 
 imbibed the generous coffee, her demeanor thawed percepti- 
 bly and she graciously vouchsafed the remark, " Ven ye're 
 hout late hag'in hi'U look hafter ye." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson had not been so far off as not to hear 
 Jane's explanation, as the poor child found to her cost when 
 she went up to bed. 
 
82 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 
 
 AS poor, dazed, homeless Alida passed out into the 
 street, after the revelation that she was not a wife and 
 never had been, she heard a voice say, "Well, Manner 
 wasn't long in bouncing the woman. I guess we'd better go 
 up now. Ferguson will need a lesson that he won't soon 
 forget." 
 
 The speaker of these words was Mrs. Ferguson's brother, 
 William Hackraan, and his companion was a detective. 
 The wife had laid her still sleeping child down on the lounge 
 and was coolly completing Alida's preparations for dinner. 
 Her husband had sunk back into a chair and again buried 
 his face in his hands. He looked up with startled, blood- 
 shot eyes as his brother-in-law and the stranger entered, and 
 then resumed his former attitude. 
 
 Mrs. Ferguson briefly related what had happened and 
 then said, "Take chairs and draw up." 
 
 " I don't want any dinner," muttered the husband. 
 
 Mr. William Hackman now gave way to his irritation. 
 Turning to his brother he relieved his mind as follows, " See 
 here. Hank Ferguson, if you hadn't the best wife in the land, 
 this gentleman would now be giving you a promenade to 
 jail. I've left my work for weeks, and spent a sight of 
 money to see that my sister got her rights, and by thunder, 
 she's going to have 'em. We've agreed to give you a chance 
 to brace up and be a man. If we find out there isn't any 
 
A NIGHT OF TERROR. 83 
 
 man in you, then you go to prison and hard labor to the 
 hull extent of the law. We've fixed things so you can't 
 play any more tricks. This man is a private detective. As 
 long as you do the square thing by your wife and child, 
 you'll be let alone. If you try to sneak off, you'll be nabbed. 
 Now if you ain't a scamp down to your heel-taps, get up 
 out of that chair like a man, treat your wife as she deserves 
 for letting you off so easy, and don't make her change her 
 mind by acting as if you, and not her, was the wronged 
 person." 
 
 At heart, Ferguson was a weak, cowardly, selfish creature, 
 whose chief aim in life was to have things to suit himself. 
 When they ceased to be agreeable, he was ready for a 
 change, without much regard for the means to his ends. 
 He had always foreseen the possibility of the event which 
 had now taken place, but, like all self-indulgent natures, had 
 hoped that he might escape detection. Alida, moreover, 
 had won a far stronger hold upon him than he had once 
 imagined possible. He was terribly mortified and cast down 
 by the result of his experiment, as he regarded it. But the 
 thought of a prison and hard labor speedily drew his mind 
 away from this aspect of the affair. He had been fairly 
 caught, his lark was over, and he soon resolved that the 
 easiest and safest way out of the scrape was the best way. 
 He therefore raised his head and came forward with a peni- 
 tent air, as he said, " It's natural I should be overwhelmed 
 with shame at the position in which I find myself. But I 
 see the truth of your words and I'll try to make it all right, 
 as far as I can. I'll go back with you and Hannah to my 
 old home. I've got money in the bank, I'll sell out every 
 thing here, and I'll pay you, William, as far as I can, what 
 you've spent. Hannah is mighty good to let me off so easy 
 and she won't be sorry. This man is witness to what I say," 
 and the detective nodded. 
 
84 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 "Why, Ferguson," said Mr. Hackman, effusively, "now 
 you're talking like a man. — Come and kiss him, Hanner, 
 and make it all up." 
 
 "That's the way with you men," said the woman, bitterly. 
 " These things count for little. Henry Ferguson must prove 
 he's honest-in what he says, by deeds, not words. I'll do as 
 I've said if he acts square, and that's enough to start with." 
 
 "All right," said Ferguson, glad enough to escape the 
 caress. " I'll do as I say." 
 
 He did do all he promised, and very promptly, too. He 
 ■was not capable of believing that a woman, wronged as Alida 
 had been, would not prosecute him, and he was eager to 
 escape to another State, and, in a certain measure, again 
 to hide his identity under his own actual name. 
 
 Meanwhile, how fared the poor creature who had fled, 
 driven forth by her first wild impulse to escape from a false 
 and terrible position? With every step she took down the 
 dimly lighted street, the abyss into which she had fallen 
 seemed to grow deeper and darker. She was overwhelmed 
 with the magnitude of her misfortune. She shunned the 
 illumined thoroughfares with a half-crazed sense that every 
 finger would be pointed at her. Her final words, spoken to 
 Ferguson, were the last clear promptings of her womanly 
 nature. After that, every thing grew confused, except the 
 impression of remediless disaster and shame. She was in- 
 capable of forming any correct judgment concerning her 
 position. The thought of her pastor filled her with horror. 
 He, she thought, would take the same view which the 
 woman had so brutally expressed, — that in her eagerness to 
 be married, she had brought to the parsonage an unknown 
 man and had involved a clergyman in her own scandalous 
 record. It would all be in the papers, and her pastor's 
 name mixed up in the affair. She would rather die than 
 subject him to such an ordeal. Long after, when he learned 
 
A NIGHT OF TERROR. 85 
 
 the facts in the case, he looked at her very sadly, as he 
 asked, "Didn't you know me better than that? Had I so 
 failed in my preaching that you couldn't come straight to 
 me?" 
 
 She wondered afterwards that she had not done this, but 
 she was too morbid, too close upon absolute insanity, to do 
 what was wise and safe. She simply yielded to the wild 
 impulse to escape, to cower, to hide from every human eye, 
 hastening through the darkest, obscurest streets, not caring 
 where. In the confusion of her mind she would retrace 
 her steps, and s6on was utterly lost, wandering she knew not 
 whither. As it grew late, casual passers-by looked after her 
 curiously, rough men spoke to her and others jeered. She 
 only hastened on, driven by her desperate trouble like the 
 svild, ragged clouds that were flying across the stormy March 
 sky. 
 
 At last, a policeman said gruffly, " You've passed me twice. 
 You can't be roaming the streets at this time of night. 
 Why don't you go home ? " 
 
 Standing before him and wringing her hands, she moaned, 
 " I have no home ! " ; 
 
 " Where did you come from ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I can't tell you. Take me to any place where a 
 woman will be safe." 
 
 " I can't take you to any place now but the station- 
 house." 
 
 " But can I be alone there ? I won't be put with any- 
 body?" 
 
 " No, no, of course not. You'll be better off there. 
 Come along. 'Tain't far." 
 
 She walked beside him without a word. 
 
 " You'd better tell me something of your story. Perhaps 
 I can do- more for you in the morning." 
 
 " I can't. I'm a stranger. I haven't any friends in town." 
 
86 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 "Well, well, the sergeant will see what can be done in 
 the morning. You've been up to some foolishness I sup- 
 pose, and you'd better tell the whole story to the sergeant." 
 
 She soon entered the station-house and was locked up in 
 a narrow cell. She heard the grating of the key in the lock 
 with a sense of relief, feeling that she had at least found a 
 place of temporary refuge and security. A hard board was 
 the only couch it possessed, but the thought of sleep did 
 not enter her mind. Sitting down, she buried her face in 
 her hands and rocked back and forth in agony and distrac- 
 tion until day dawned. At last, some one — she felt she 
 could not raise her eyes to his face — brought her some 
 breakfast and coffee. She drank the latter, but left the 
 food untasted. Finally, she was led to the sergeant's private 
 room and told that she must give an account of herself. " If 
 you can't or won't tell a clear story," the officer threatened, 
 " you'll have to go before the justice in open court, and he 
 may commit you to prison. If you'll tell the truth now, it 
 may be that I can discharge you. You had no business to 
 be wandering about the streets like a vagrant or worse ; 
 but if you were a stranger or lost and hadn't sense enough 
 to go where you'd be cared for, I can let you go." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Alida, again wringing her hands and looking 
 at the officer with eyes so full of .misery and fear that he 
 began to soften, " I don't know where to go." 
 
 " Haven't you a friend or acquaintance in town?" 
 
 " Not one that I can go to ! " 
 
 "Why don't you tell me your story? Then I'll know 
 what to do, and perhaps can help you. You don't look like 
 a depraved woman." 
 
 " I'm not. God knows I'm not." 
 
 " Well, my poor woman, I've got to act in view of what I 
 know, not what God knows." 
 
 " If I tell my story, will I have to give names ? " 
 
A mOHT OF TERROR. 87 
 
 " No, not necessarily. It would be best though." 
 
 " I can't do that, but I'll tell you the truth. I will swear 
 it on the Bible. I married some one. A good minister 
 married us. The man deceived me. He was already mar- 
 ried, and last night his wife came to my happy home and 
 proved before the man whom I thought my husband that I 
 was no wife at all. He couldn't, didn't deny it. Oh ! oh ! 
 oh ! " and she again rocked back and forth in uncontrollable 
 anguish. "That's all," she added brokenly. "I had no 
 right to be near him or her any longer and I rushed out. I 
 don't remember much more. My brain seemed on fire. 
 I just walked and walked till I was brought here." 
 
 "Well, well," said the sergeant, sympathetically, "you 
 have been treated badly, outrageously, but you are not to^ 
 blame unless you married the man hastily and foolishly." 
 
 " That's what every one will think, but it don't seem to 
 me that I did. It's a long story, and I can't tell it." 
 
 " But you ought to tell it, my poor woman. You ought 
 to sue the man for damages and send him to State prison." 
 
 " No, no," cried Alida, passionately. " I don't want to 
 see him again and I won't go to a court before people 
 unless I am dragged there." 
 
 The sergeant looked up at the policeman who had ar- 
 rested her and said, "This story is not contrary to any 
 thing -you saw? " 
 
 " No, sir, she was wandering about and seemed half out 
 of her mmd." 
 
 " Well, then, I can let you go." 
 
 " But I don't know where to go," she replied, looking at 
 him with hunted, hollow eyes. " I feel as if I were going to '' 
 be sick. Please don't turn me into the streets. I'd rather 
 go back to the cell." 
 
 " That won't answer. There's no place that I can send 
 ^ou to except the poor-house. Haven't you any money? " 
 
88 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " No, sir. I just rushed away and left every thing when I 
 learned the truth." 
 
 "Tom Watterly's hotel is the only place for her," said 
 the policeman, with a nod. 
 
 " Oh, I can't go to a hotel." 
 
 " He means the almshouse," explained the sergeant. 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 "Alida — that's all now. Yes, I'm a pauper and I can't 
 work just yet. I'll be safe there, won't I ? " 
 
 " Certainly, safe as if in your mother's house." 
 
 " Oh, mother, mother ; thank God, you are dead." 
 
 "Well, I am sorry for you," said the sergeant, kindly. 
 " 'Tain't often we have so sad a case as yours. If you say 
 so, I'll send for Tom Watterly, and he and his wife will take 
 charge of you. After a few days, your mind will get quieter 
 and clearer, and then you'll prosecute the man who wronged 
 you." 
 
 "I'll go to the poor-house until I can do better," she 
 replied wearily. " Now, if you please, I'll return to my cell, 
 where I can be alone." 
 
 " Oh, we can give you a better room than that," said the 
 sergeant. " Show her into the waiting room, Tim. If you 
 prosecute, we can help you with our testimony. Good-by, 
 and may you have better days ! " 
 
 Watterly was telegraphed to come down with a convey- 
 ance, for the almshouse was in a suburb. In due time he 
 appeared, and was briefly told Alida's story. He swore a 
 little at the " mean cuss," the author of all the trouble, and 
 then took the stricken woman to what all his acquaintances 
 facetiously termed his " hotel." 
 
BAFFLED. 89 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BAFFLED. 
 
 IN the general consciousness, Nature is regarded as femi- 
 nine, and even tliose who love lier most will have to 
 aSopt Mrs. Mumpsoh's oft expressed opinion of the sex, and 
 admit that she is sometimes a " peculiar female." During 
 the month of March, in which our story opens, there was 
 scarcely any limit to her varying moods. It would almost 
 appear that she was taking a mysterious interest in Holcroft's 
 affairs ; but whether it was a kindly interest or not, one 
 might be at a loss to decide. When she caught him away 
 from house, she pelted him with the coldest of rain and 
 made his house, with even Mrs. Mumpson and Jane abiding 
 there, seem a refuge. In the morning after the day on 
 which he had brought,- or in a sense had carted Mrs. Wig- 
 gins to his domicile. Nature was evidently bent on instituting 
 contrasts between herself and the rival phases of femininity 
 with which the farmer was compelled to associate. It may 
 have h§en that she had another motive and was determined 
 to keep her humble worshipper at her feet, and to render it 
 impossible for him to make the changes towards which he 
 had felt himself driven. 
 
 Being an early riser, he was up with the sun, and the sun 
 rose so serenely and smiled so benignly that Holcroft's 
 clouded brow cleared in spite of all that had happened or 
 could take place. The rain which had brought such dis- 
 comfort the night before had settled the ground and made 
 
90 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 it comparatively firm to his tread. The south-m breeze 
 which fanned his cheek was as soft as the air of May. He 
 remembered that it was Sunday and that beyond feeding 
 his stock and milking he would have nothing to do. He 
 exulted in the unusual mildness and thought, with an im- 
 mense sense of relief, " I can stay out doors nearly all 
 day." He resolved to let his help kindle the fire and get 
 breakfast as they could, and to keep out of their way. 
 Whatever changes the future might bring, he would have 
 one more long day in rambling about his fields and in 
 thinking over the past. Feeling that there need be no 
 haste about any thing, he leisurely inhaled the air, fragrant 
 from springing grass, and listened with a vague, undefined 
 pleasure to the ecstatic music of the bluebirds, song-spar- 
 rows and robins. If any one had asked him why he liked 
 to hear them he would have replied, " I'm used to 'em. 
 When 'they come I know that ploughing and planting time 
 is near." 
 
 It must be admitted that Holcroft's enjoyment of spring 
 was not very far removed from that of the stock in his barn- 
 yard. All the animal creation rejoices in the returning sun 
 and warmth. A subtile, powerful influence sets the blood 
 in more rapid motion, kindles new desires and awakens a 
 glad expectancy. All that is alive becomes more thoroughly 
 alive and existence in itself is a pleasure. Spring had always 
 brought to the farmer quickened pulses, renewed activity 
 and hopefulness, and he was pleased to find that he was not 
 so old and cast down that its former influence had spent 
 itself Indeed, it seemed that never before had his fields, 
 his stock and out-door work — and these comprised Nature 
 to him — been so attractive. They remained unchanged, 
 amid the sad changes which had clouded his life, and his 
 heart clung more tenaciously than ever to old scenes and 
 occupations. They might not bring him happiness again. 
 
BAFFLED. 9 1 
 
 but he instinctively felt that they might insure a comfort 
 and peace with which he could be content. 
 
 At last, he went to the barn and began his work, doing 
 every thing slowly, and getting all the solace he could from 
 the tasks. The horses whinnied their welcome and he 
 rubbed their noses caressingly as he fed them. The cows 
 came briskly to the rack in which he foddered them in 
 pleasant weather, and when he scratched them between the 
 horns they turned their mild, Juno-like eyes upon him with 
 undisguised affection. The chickens, clamoring for their 
 breakfast, followed so closely that he had to be careful 
 where he stepped. Although he knew that all this good- 
 will was based chiefly on the hope of -food and the remem- 
 brance of it in the past, nevertheless it soothed and pleased 
 him. He was in sympathy with' this homely life ; it be- 
 longed to him and was dependent on him ; it made him 
 honest returns for his care. Moreover, it was agreeably 
 linked with the past. There were quiet cows which his 
 wife had milked, clucking biddies which she had lifted from 
 nests with their downy broods. He looked at them wist- 
 fully, and was wondering if they ever missed the presence 
 that he regretted so deeply, when he became conscious that 
 Jane's eyes were upon him. How long she had been watch- 
 ing him, he did not know, but she merely said, " Breakfast's 
 ready," and disappeared. 
 
 With a sigh he went to his room .to perform his ablutions, 
 remembering with a slight pang how his wife always had a 
 basin and towel ready for him in the kitchen. In the break- 
 ing up of just such homely customs, he was continually 
 reminded of his loss.. 
 
 On awakening to the light of this Sabbath morning, Mrs. 
 Mumpson had thought deeply and reasoned every thing out 
 again. She felt that it must be an eventful day and that 
 thejre was much to be accomphshed. In the first place 
 
92 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HTS WIFE. 
 
 there was Mrs. Wiggins. She disapproved of her decidedly. 
 " She isn't the sort of person that I would prefer to superin- 
 tend," she remarked to Jane while making, a toilet which she 
 deemed befitting the day, " and the hour will assuredly come 
 when Mr. Holcroft will look upon her in the light that I do.. 
 He will eventually realize that I cannot be brought in such 
 close relationship with a pauper. Not that the relationship 
 is exactly close, but then I shall have to speak to her — in 
 brief, to superintend her. My eyes will be offended by her 
 vast proportions and uncouth appearance. The floor creaks 
 beneath her tread and affects my nerves seriously. Of course, 
 while she is here, I shall zealously, as befits one in my 
 responserble position, try to render useful such service as 
 she can perform. But then, the fact that I disapprove of her 
 must soon become evident. When it is discovered that I 
 Only tolerate her, there will be a change. I cannot show my 
 disapproval very strongly to-day, for this is a day set apart 
 for sacred things, and Mrs. Viggins, as she called herself, — I 
 cannot imagine a Mr. Viggins, for no man in his senses 
 could have married such a creature, — as I was saying, Mrs. 
 Viggins is not at all sacred and I must endeavor to abstract 
 my mind from her till to-morrow, as far as posserble. My 
 first duty to-day is to induce Mr. Holcroft to take us to 
 church. It will give the people of Oakville such a pleasing 
 impression to see us driving to church. Of course, I may 
 fail. Mr. Holcroft is evidently .a hardened man. All the 
 influences of his life have been adverse to spiritual develop- 
 ment, and it may require some weeks of my influence to 
 soften him and awaken yearnings for what he has not yet 
 known." 
 
 "He may be yearnin' for breakfast," Jane remarked, 
 completing her toilet by tying her little pig- tail braid with 
 something that had once been a bit of black ribbon, but was 
 now a string. " You'd better come down soon and help." 
 
BAFFLED. 93 
 
 " If Mrs. Viggins cannot get breakfast, I would like to 
 know what she is here for," continued- Mrs. Mumpson, 
 loftily and regardless of Jane's departure. " I shall decline 
 to do menial work any longer, especially on this sacred 
 day, and after I have made my toilet for church. Mr. 
 Holcroft has had time to think. My disapproval was mani- 
 fest last night and it has undoubtedly occurred to him 
 that he has not conformed to the proprieties of life. In- 
 deed, I almost fear I shall have to teach him what the pro- 
 prieties of life are. He witnessed my emotion when he 
 spoke as he should not have spoken to me. But I must 
 make allowances for his unregenerate state. He was cold, 
 and wet, and hungry last night, and men are unreasonerble 
 at such times. I shall now heap coals of fire upon his head. 
 I shall show that I am a meek, forgiving Christian woman, 
 and he will relent, soften, and become peni,tent. Then will 
 be my opportunity," and she descended to the arena which 
 should witness her efforts. 
 
 During the period in which Mrs. Mumpson had indulged 
 in these lofty reflections and self-communings, Mrs. Wiggins 
 had also arisen. I am not sure whether she had thought of 
 any thing in particular or not. She may have had some 
 spiritual longings which were not becoming to any day of 
 the week. Being a woman of deeds, rather than of thought, 
 probably not much else occurred to her beyond the duty 
 of kindling the fire and getting breakfast. Jane came down, 
 and offered to assist, but was cleared out with no more 
 scruple than if Mrs. Wiggins had been one of the much 
 visited relatives. 
 
 "The hidee," she grumbled, "of 'avin' sich a little trollop 
 round hunder my feet ! " 
 
 Jane therefore solaced herself by watching the "cheap 
 girl " till her mother appeared. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson sailed majestically in and took the rock- 
 
94 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 ing-chair, mentally thankful that it had survived the crushing 
 weight imposed upon it the evening before. Mrs. Wiggins 
 did not drop a courtesy. Indeed, not a sign of recognition 
 passed over her vast, immobile face. Mrs. Mumpson was a 
 little embarrassed. " I hardly know how to comport my- 
 self toward-s ?hat female," she thought. "She is utterly 
 uncouth. Her manners are unmistakerbly those of a pauper. 
 I think I will ignore her to-day. I do not wish my feelings 
 ruffled or put out of harmony v/ith the sacred duties and 
 motives which actuate me." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson therefore rocked gently, solemnly, and 
 strange to say, silently, and Mrs. Wiggins also proceeded 
 with her duties, but not in silence, for every thing in the 
 room trembled and clattered at her- tread. Suddenly, she 
 turned on Jane and said, " 'Ere, you little baggage, go and 
 tell the master breakfast's ready." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson sprung from her chair, and with a voice 
 choked with indignation, gasped, " Do you dare address my 
 offspring thus?" 
 
 "Ye're vat?" 
 
 " My child, my daughter, who is not a pauper, but the 
 offspring of a most respecterble woman and respecterbly 
 connected. I'm amazed, I'm dumbfoundered, I'm " — 
 
 "Ye're a bit daft, hi'm a thinkin'." Then to Jane, "Vy 
 don't ye go an' hearn ye're salt?" 
 
 " Jane, I forbid " — but it had not taken Jane half a min- 
 ute to decide between the now jarring domestic powers, and 
 henceforth she would be at Mrs. Wiggins's beck and call. 
 "She can do somethin'," the child, muttered, as she stole 
 upon Holcroft. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson sunk back in her chair, but her mode of 
 rocking betokened a perturbed spirit. " I will restrain my- 
 self till to-morrow and then " — She shook her head por- 
 tentously and waited till the farmer appeared, feeling assured 
 
BAFFLED. 95 
 
 that Mrs. Wiggins would soon be taught to recognize her 
 station. When brealifast was on the table she darted to her 
 place behind the coffee-pot, for she felt that there was no 
 teUing what this awful Mrs. Wiggins might not assume dur- 
 ing this day of sacred restraint. But the ex-pauper had no 
 thought c^f presumption in her master's presence, and the 
 rocking-chair again distracted Mrs. Mumpson's nerves as it 
 creaked under an unwonted weight. 
 
 Holcroft took his seat in silence. The widow again 
 bowed her head devoutly, and sighed deeply when observ- 
 ing that the farmer ignored her suggestion. 
 
 " I trust that you feel refreshed after your repose," she 
 said benignly. 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " It is a lovely morning, — a morning, I may add, befitting 
 the sacred day. Nature is at peace, and suggests that we 
 and all should be at peace." 
 
 " There's nothing I hke more, Mrs. Mumpson, unless it is 
 quiet;" 
 
 " I feel that way, myself. You don't know what restraint 
 I have put upon myself that the sacred quiet of this day 
 might not be disturbed. I -have had strong provercation 
 since I entered this apartment. I will forbear to speak of 
 it till to-morrow, in order that there may be quietness and 
 that our minds may be prepared for worship. I feel that it 
 would be unseemly for us to enter a house of worship with 
 thoughts of strife in our souls. At precisely what moment 
 do you wish me to be ready for church? " 
 
 " I am not going to church, Mrs. Mumpson." 
 
 "Not going to church! I — I — scarcely understand. 
 Worship is such a sacred duty" — 
 
 " You and Jane certainly have a right to go to church, and 
 since it is your wish, I'll take you down to Lemuel Weeks's 
 and you can go with them." 
 
96 HE FELL IN 'love WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " I don't want to go to cousin Lemuel's, nor to church, 
 nuther," Jane protested. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Holcroft," began the widow, sweetly, " after 
 you've once harnessed up it will take but a little longer to 
 keep on to the meeting-house. It would appear so seemly 
 for us to drive thither, as a matter of course. It would be 
 what the communerty expects of us. This is not our day, 
 that we should spend it carnally. We should be spiritually 
 minded. We should put away things of earth. Thoughts 
 of business and any unnecessary toil should be abhorrent. I 
 have often thought that there was too much milking done on 
 Sunday arrjong farmers. I know they say it is essential, but 
 they all seem so prone to forget that but one thing is need- 
 ful. I feel it borne in upon roy mind, Mr. Holcroft, that I 
 should plead with you to attend divine worship and seek an 
 uplifting of your thoughts. You have no idea how differently 
 the day may end, or what emotions may be aroused if you 
 place yourself under the droppings of the sanctuary." 
 
 "I'm like Jane, I don't wish to go," said Mr. Holcroft, 
 nervously. 
 
 " But, my dear Mr. Holcroft," — the farmer fidgeted under 
 this address, — " the very essence of true religion is to do 
 what we don't wish to do. We are to mortify the fiesh and 
 thwart the carnal mind. The more thorny the path of self- 
 denial is, the more certain it's the right path. I've already 
 entered upon it,'' she continued, turning a momentary glare 
 upon Mrs. Wiggins. " Never before was a respecterble 
 woman so harrowed and outraged ; but I am calm ; I am 
 endeavoring to maintain a frame of mind suiterble to worship, 
 and I feel it my bounden duty to impress upon you that wor- 
 ship is a necessity to every human being. My conscience 
 would not acquit me if I did not use all my influence " — 
 
 " Very well, Mrs. Mumpson, you and your conscience are 
 quits. You have used all your influence. I will do as I 
 
BAFFLED. 97 
 
 said, — take you to Lemuel Weeks's and you can go to 
 church with his family," and he rose from the table. 
 
 " But cousin Lemuel is also painfully blind to his spiritual 
 interests " — 
 
 Holcroft did not stay to listen and was soon engaged in 
 the morning milking. Jane flatly declared that she would 
 not go to cousin Lemuel's or to church. " It don't do me 
 no good, nor you, nuther," she sullenly declared to her 
 mother. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson now resolved upon a different line of tac- 
 tics. Assuming a lofty, spiritual air, she commanded Jane to 
 light a fire in the parlor, and retired thither with the rocking- 
 chair. The elder widow looked after her and ejaculated, 
 " Veil, hif sh'e hain't the craziest loon hi hever 'eard talk. 
 Hif she vas blind she might 'a' seen that the master didn't 
 vant hany sich lecturin' clack." 
 
 Having kindled the fire, the child was about to leave the 
 room when her mother interposed and said, solemnly, " Jane, 
 sit down and keep Sunday." 
 
 " I'm goin' to help Mrs. Wiggins, if she'll let me." 
 
 " You will not so demean yourself. I wish you to have 
 no relations whatever with that female in the kitchen. If 
 you had proper self-respect you would never speak to her 
 again." 
 
 "We ain't visitin' here. If I can't work in-doors I'll tell 
 him I'll work out-doors." 
 
 " It's not proper for you to work to-day. I want you to 
 sit there in the corner and learn the Fifth Commandment." 
 
 "Ain't you goin' to cousin Lemuel's?" 
 
 " On mature reflection, I have decided to remain at 
 home." 
 
 " I thought you would if you had any sense left. You 
 know well enough we ain't wanted down there. I'll go tell 
 hirn not to hitch up." 
 
98 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Well, I will permit you to do so. Then return to your 
 Sunday task." 
 
 "I'm goin' to mind him," responded the child. She 
 passed rapidly and apprehensively through the kitchen, but 
 paused on the doorstep to make some overtures to Mrs. 
 Wiggins. If that austere dame vi'as not to be propitiated, a 
 line of retreat was open to the barn. " Say," she began, to 
 attract attention. 
 
 "Veil, young-un," replied Mrs. Wiggins, rendered more 
 pacific by her breakfast. 
 
 " Don't you want me to wash up the dishes and put 'em 
 away? I know how." 
 
 " Hi'll try ye. Hif ye breaks hanythink " — and the old 
 woman nodded volumes at the child. 
 
 " I'll be back in a minute," said Jane. A moment later 
 she met Holcroft carrying two pails of milk from the barn- 
 yard. He was about to pass without noticing her, but she 
 again secured attention by her usual preface, " say," when 
 she had a somewhat extended communication to make. ■ 
 
 " Come to the dairy-room, Jane, and say your say there," 
 said Holcroft, not unkindly. 
 
 " She ain't goin' to cousin Lemuel's," said the girl, from 
 the door. 
 
 " What is she going to do." 
 
 "Rock in the parlor. Say, can't I help Mrs. Wiggins 
 wash up the dishes and do the work?" 
 
 "Certainly; why not?" 
 
 " Mother says I must sit in the parlor 'n' learri Command- 
 ments 'n'^keep Sunday." 
 
 "Well, Jane, which do you think you ought to do?" 
 
 " I think I oughter work, and if you and Mrs. Wiggins 
 will let me, I will work in spite of mti^er." 
 
 " I think that you and your mother both should help do 
 the necessary work to-day. TIjefe won't be much." 
 
BAFFLED. 99, 
 
 " If I try and help Mrs. Wiggins mother'!! bounce out at 
 me. She shooli me !ast night after I went upstairs, and she 
 boxed my eare 'cause I wanted to !ceep the !citchen fire up 
 !ast night." 
 
 " I'!! go with you to the Icitchen and tel! Mrs. Wiggins to 
 !et you he!p, and I won't let your mother punish you again 
 unless you do wrong." 
 
 Mrs. Wiggins, relying on Jane's promise of help, had sat 
 down to the solace of her pipe for a few minutes, but was 
 about to thrust it hastily away on seeing Holcroft. He re- 
 assured her by saying, good-naturedly, " No need of that, 
 my good woman. Sit still and enjoy your pipe. I like to 
 smolie myself. Jane will help clear away things and I wish 
 her to. You'll find she's quite handy. By the way, have 
 you all the tobacco you want? " 
 
 " Veil, now, master, p'raps ye know the 'lowance down hat 
 the poor-US vasn't sich as ud keep a body in vat ye'd call 
 satisfyin' smokin'. Hi never 'ad henough ter keep down 
 the 'ankerin'." 
 
 " I suppose that's so. You shall have half of my stock, 
 and when I go to town again, I'll get you a good supply. 
 I guess I'll light my pipe, too, before starting for a 
 walk." 
 
 "Bless yer 'art, master, ye makes a body comfterble. 
 Ven hi smokes hi feels more hat 'ome and kind o' contented 
 like. And hold 'ooman like me haint got much left to 
 comfort 'er but 'er pipe." 
 
 "jane," called Mrs. Mumpson sharply from the parlor. 
 As there was no answer, the widow soon appeared in the 
 kitchen door. Smoking was one of the unpardonable sins 
 in Mrs.- Mumpson's eyes ; and when she saw Mrs. Wiggins 
 puffing comfortably away and Holcroft lighting his- pipe, 
 while Jane cleared the table, language almost failed her. 
 She managed to articulate, " Jane, this atmosphere is not fit 
 
lOO HE FELL IiVLOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 for you to breathe, on this sacred day. I wish you to share 
 my seclusion." 
 
 " Mrs. Mumpson, I have told her to help Mrs. Wiggins in 
 the necessary work/' Holcroft interposed. 
 
 " Mr. Holcroft, you don't realize — men never do — Jane 
 is my offspring, and " — 
 
 " Oh, if you put it that way, I sha'n't interfere between 
 mother and child. But I suppose you and Jane came here 
 to work." 
 
 ~ " If you will enter the parlor, I will explain to you fully 
 my views, and " — 
 
 "Oh, please excuse me," said Holcroft, hastily passing 
 out, " I was just starting for a walk. — I'm bound to have one 
 more day to myself on the old place," he muttered, as he 
 bent his steps toward an upland pasture. 
 
 Jane, seeing that her mother was about to pounce upon 
 her, ran behind Mrs. Wiggins, who slowly rose and began a 
 progress towards the irate widow, remarking as she did so, 
 " Hi'll just shut the door 'twixt ye and ye're hoffspring, and 
 then ye kin say ye're prayers hon the tother side." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson was so overcome at the turn affairs had 
 taken on this day which was to witness such progress in her 
 plans and hopes, as to feel the absolute necessity of a pro- 
 longed season of thought and soliloquy, and she relapsed 
 without protest into the rocking-chair. 
 
JANE. lOI 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 JANE. 
 
 HOLCROFT was not long in climbing to a sunny nook 
 whence he could see not only his farm and dwelling, 
 but also the Oakville valley, and the little white spire of the 
 distant meeting-house. He looked at this last named object 
 wistfully and very sadly. Mrs. Mumpson's tirade about 
 worship had been without effect, but the memories suggested 
 by the church we're bitter-sweet indeed. It belonged to the 
 Methodist denomination", and Holcroft had been taken, or 
 had gone thither, from the time of his earliest recollection. 
 He saw himself sitting between his father and mother, a 
 round-faced urchin to whom the sermon was unintelligible, 
 but to whom little Bessie Jones in the next pew was a fiact, 
 not only intelligible, but very interesting. She would turn 
 around and stare at him until he smiled, then she would 
 giggle until her mother brought her right-about-face with 
 considerable emphasis. After this, he saw the litrie boy ' — 
 could it have been himself? — nodding, swaying, and finally 
 slumbering peacefully, with his head on his mother's lap, 
 until shaken into sufficient consciousness to be half dragged, 
 half led, to the door. Once in the big, springless farm wagon 
 he was himself again, looking eagerly around to catch an- 
 other glimpse of Bessie Jones. Then, he was a big, irrev- 
 erent boy, shyly and awkwardly bent on mischief in the same 
 old meeting-house. Bessie Jones no longer turned and 
 Stared at him, but he exultingly discovered that be could 
 
I02 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 Still make her giggle on the sly. Years passed, and Bessie 
 was his occasional choice for a sleigh-ride when the long 
 body of some farm wagon was placed on runners, and boys 
 and girls — young men and women, they almost thought 
 themselves — were packed in like sardines. Something like 
 self-reproach smote Holcroft even now, remembering how 
 he had allowed his fancy much latitude at this period, paying 
 attention to more than one girl besides Bessie, and painfully 
 undecided which he hked best. 
 
 Then had come the memorable year which had opened 
 with a protracted meeting. He and Bessie Jones had 
 passed under conviction at the same time, and on the same 
 evening had gone forward to the anxious seat. From the 
 way in which she sobbed, one might have supposed that the 
 good, simple-hearted girl had terrible burdens on her con- 
 science ; but she soon found hope, and her tears gave place 
 to smiles. Holcroft, on the contrary, was terribly cast down 
 and unable to find relief. He felt that he had much more 
 to answer for than Bessie ; he accused himself of having been 
 a rather coarse, vulgar boy ; he had made fun of sacred 
 things in that very meeting-house more times than he liked 
 to think of, and now for some reason could think of nothing 
 else. He could not shed tears, or get up much emotion ; 
 neither could he rid himself of the dull weight at heart. 
 The minister, the brethren and sisters, prayed for him and 
 over him, but nothing removed his terrible inertia. He 
 became a familiar form on the anxious seat, for there was 
 a dogged persistence in his -nature which prevented him 
 from giving up ; but at the close of each meeting he went 
 home in a state of deeper dejection. Sometimes, in return- 
 ing, he was Bessie Jones's escort, and her happiness added 
 to his gall and bitterness. One moonlight night, they stopped 
 under the shadow of- a pine near her father's door, and 
 talked over the matter a few moments before parting. 
 
JANE. 103 
 
 Bessie was full of sympathy which she hardly knew how to 
 express. Unconsciously, in her earnestness — how well he 
 remembered the act ! — she laid her hand on his arm as she 
 said, " James, I guess I know what's the trouble with you. 
 In all your seeking, you are thinking only of yourself — how 
 bad you've been, and all that. I wouldn't think of myself 
 and what I was any more, if I was you. You ain't so awful 
 bad, James, that I'd turn a cold shoulder to you ; but you 
 might think I was doing just that if you staid away from 
 me and kept saying to yourself, ' I ain't fit to speak to Bessie 
 Jones.' " 
 
 Her face had looked sweet and compassionate, and her 
 touch upon his arm had conveyed the subtile magic of sym- 
 pathy. Under her homely logic, the truth had burst upon 
 him like sunshine. In brief, he had turned from his own 
 shadow and was in the light. He remembered how in his 
 deep feehng he had bowed his head on her shoulder and 
 murmured, " O Bessie, Heaven bless you ! I see it all." 
 
 He no longer went to the anxious seat. With this young 
 girl, and many others, he was taken into the church on pro- 
 bation. Thereafter, his fancy never wandered again, and 
 there was no other girl in Oakville for hirri but Bessie. In 
 due time, he had gone with her to yonder meeting-house to 
 be married. It had all seemed to come about as a matter 
 of course. He scarcely knew when he became formally 
 engaged. They "kept company" together steadfastly for 
 a suitable period, and that seemed to settle it in their own 
 and everybody else's mind. 
 
 There had been no change in Bessie's quiet, constant soul. 
 After her words under the shadow of the pine tree she 
 seemed' to find it difficult to speak of religious subjects, even 
 to her husband ; but her simple faith had been unwavering, 
 and she had entered into rest without fear or misgiving. 
 
 Not so her husband. ' He had his spiritual ups and downs. 
 
I04 f!E FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 but, like herself, was reticent. A\'iiile she lived, only a heavy 
 storm kept them from "going to meeting," but with Hol- 
 croft, worship was often little more than a form, his mind 
 being on the farm and its interests. Parents and relatives 
 had died, and the habit of seclusion from neighborhood and 
 church life had grown upon them gradually and almost un- 
 consciously. 
 
 For a long time after his wife's death, Holcroft had felt 
 that he did not wish to see any one who would make refer- 
 ences to his loss. He shrunk from formal condolences as 
 he would from the touch of a diseased nerve. When the 
 minister called, he listened politely but silently to a general 
 exhortation ; then muttered, when left alone, " It's all as he 
 says, I suppose ; but somehovif his words are like the medi- 
 cines Bessie took, — they don't do any good." 
 
 He kept up the form of his faith and a certain vague hope 
 until the night on which he drove forth the Irish revelers 
 from his home. In remembrance of his rage and profanity 
 on that occasion, he silently and in dreary misgiving con- 
 cluded that he should not, even to himself, keep up the 
 pretence of religion any longer. " I've fallen from grace — 
 that is, if I ever had any " — was a thought which did much 
 to rob him of courage to meet his other trials. Whenevei 
 he dwelt on these subjects, doubts, perplexities and resent- 
 ment at his misfortunes so thronged his mind that he was 
 appalled ; so he strove to occupy himself with the immediate 
 present. 
 
 To-day, however, in recalling the past, his thoughts would 
 question the future and the outcome of his experiences. In 
 accordance with his simple, downright nature, he muttered, 
 " I might as well face tJie truth and have done with it. 
 I don't know whether I'll ever see my wife again or not ; 
 1 don't know whether God is for me or against me. Some- 
 times, I half think there isn't any Qod. I don't know what 
 
JANE. 105 
 
 will become of me when I die. I'm sure of only one thing, 
 — while I do live I could take comfort in working the old 
 place." 
 
 In brief, without e\-er Jiaving heard of the term, he was an 
 agnostic^but not one of the self-complacent, superior type 
 who fancy that they have developed themselves beyond the 
 trammels of faith and are ever ready to make the world 
 aware of their progi'ess. 
 
 At last, he recognized that his long re\ery was leading to 
 despondency and weakness ; he rose, shook himself half 
 angrily, and strode towards the house. " I'm here, and here 
 I'm going to stay," he growled. "As long as I'm on my 
 own land, it's nobody's business what I am or how I feel. If 
 I can't get decent, sensible women help, I'll close up my 
 dairy and live here alone. I certainly can make enough 
 to support myself." 
 
 Jane met him with a summons to dinner, looking appre- 
 hensively at his stern, gloomy face. Mrs. Mumpson did'not 
 appear. " Call her," he said' curtly. 
 
 The literal Jane returned from the parlor and said, unsym- 
 pathetically, " She's got a hank'chif to her eyes and says she 
 don't want no dinner." 
 
 "Very well," he replied, much relieved. 
 
 Apparently he did not want much dinner, either, for he 
 soon started out again. Mrs. ^Viggins was not utterly want- 
 ing in the intuitions of her sex, and said nothing to break in 
 upon her master's abstraction. 
 
 In the afternoon, Holcroft visited every nook and corner 
 of his farm, laying out, he hoped, so much occupation for 
 both hands and thoughts as to render him proof against 
 domestic tribulations. 
 
 He had not been gone long before Mrs. Mumpson called 
 in a plaintive voice, "Jane." 
 
 The child entered the parlor warily, keeping open a line 
 
I06 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 of retreat to the door. " You need not fear me," said her 
 mother, rocking pathetically. " My feelings are so hurt and 
 crushed that I can only bemoan the wrongs from which 
 I suffer. You little know, Jane, you little know a mother's 
 heart." 
 
 " No," assented Jane, " I dunno nothin' about it." 
 " What wonder, then, that I weep, when even my child 
 is so unnatural ! " 
 
 " I dunno how to be any thing else but what I be," replied 
 the girl in self-defence. 
 
 " If you would only yield more to my guidance and influ- 
 ence, Jane, the future might be brighter for us both. If you 
 had but stored up the' Fifth Commandment in memory — 
 but I forbear. You cannot so far forget your duty as not 
 to tell me how he behaved at dinner." 
 
 " He looked awful glum, and hardly said a word." 
 " Ah-h ! " exclaimed the widow, " the spell is working." 
 " If you ain't a workin' to-morrow", there'll be a worse 
 spell," the girl remarked. 
 
 " That will do, Jane, that will do. You little understand — 
 how should you ? Please keep an eye on him and let me 
 know how he looks and what he is doing and whether his 
 face still wears a gloomy or a penitent aspect. Do as I bid 
 you, Jane, and you may unconsciously secure your own 
 well-being by obedience." 
 
 Watching any one was a far more congenial task to the 
 child than learning the Commandments, and she hastened 
 to comply. Moreover, she had the strongest curiosity in 
 regard to Holcroft herself. She felt that he was the arbiter 
 of her fate. So untaught was she, that delicacy and tact 
 were unknown qualities. Her one hope of pleasing was 
 in worli- She had no power of guessing that sly espionage 
 would counterbalance such service. Another round of visit- 
 ing was dreaded above all things ; she was therefore exceed- 
 
JANE. 107 
 
 ingly anxious about the future. " Mother may be right," she 
 thought. " P'raps "she can make him marry her, so we 
 needn't go away any more. P'raps she's taken the right 
 way to bring a man around and get him hooked, as cousin 
 Lemuel said. If I was goin' to hook a man though, I'd try 
 another plan than mother's. I'd keep my mouth shut and 
 my eyes open. I'd see what he wanted and do it, even 'fore 
 he spoke. 'Fi's big anuf I bet I could hook a man quicker'n 
 she can by usin her tongue 'stead of her hands." 
 
 Jane's scheme was not so bad a one but that it might be 
 tried to advantage by those so disposed. Her matrimonial 
 prospects, however, being still . far in the future, it behooved 
 her to make her present existence as tolerabje as possible. 
 She knew how much depended on Holeroft and was unaware 
 of any other method of learning his purposes except that of 
 watching him. Both fearing and fascinated, she dogged his 
 steps most of the afternoon, but saw nothing to confirm 
 her mother's view that any spell was working. She scarcely 
 understood why he looked so long at field, thicket, and 
 woods, as if he saw something invisible to her. 
 
 In . planning future work and improvements, the farmer 
 had attained a quieter and more genial frame of mind. 
 When, therefore, he sat down and in glancing about saw 
 Jane crouching behind a low hemlock, he was more amused 
 than irritated. He had dwelt on his own interests so long 
 that he was ready to consider even Jane's for a while. 
 "Poor child!" he thought, "she doesn't know any better 
 and perhaps has even been taught to do such things. 1 
 think I.'U surprise her and draw her out a little. 
 
 "Jane, come here," he called. 
 
 The girl sprang to her feet, and hesitated whether to fly 
 or obey. " Don't be afraid," added Holeroft. " I won't 
 scold you. Come." 
 
 She stole towards him like some small, wild, fearful jhiimal 
 
Io8 HB FELL IN LOVE WITN HTS WIFE. 
 
 in doubt of its reception. " Sit down there on that rock," 
 he said. » 
 
 She obeyed with a sly, sidelong look, and he saw that she 
 kept her feet gathered under her so as to spring away if he 
 made the slightest hostile movement. 
 
 "Jane, do you think it's right to watch people so?" he 
 asked gravely. ~ 
 
 "She told me to." 
 
 "Your mother?" 
 
 The girl nodded. 
 
 " But do you think it's right yourself? " 
 
 " Dunno. 'Tain't best if you get caught." 
 
 " Well, Jane," said Holcroft, with something like a smile 
 lurking in his deep-set eyes, " I don't think it's right at all. 
 I don't want you to watch me any more, no matter who tells 
 you to. Will you promise not to? " 
 
 The child nodded. She seemed averse to speaking when 
 a sign would answer. 
 
 " Can I go now? " she asked after a moment. 
 
 " Not yet. I want to ask you some questions. Was any 
 one ever kind to you? " 
 
 " I dunno. I suppose so." 
 
 " What would you call being ktnd to you? " 
 
 " Not scoldin' or cufifin' me." 
 
 " If I didn't scold or strike you, would you think I was 
 kind, then?" 
 
 She nodded ; but after a moment's thought, said, " And 
 if you didn't look as if you hated to see me round." 
 
 " Do you think I've been kind to you? " 
 
 " Kinder'n anybody else. You sorter look at me some- 
 times as if I was a rat. I don't s'pose you can help it and 
 I don't mind. I'd ruther stay here and work than go a visit- 
 in' again. Why can't I work out-doors when there's nothin' 
 for me to do in the house? " 
 
JANE. 109 
 
 " Are you willing to work — to do any thing you can ? " 
 
 Jane was not sufficiently politic to enlarge on her desire for 
 honest toil and honest bread ; she merely nodded. Holcroft 
 smiled as he asked, "Why are you so anxious to work?" 
 
 " 'Cause I won't feel like a stray cat in the house then, 
 I want to be some'ers where I've a right to be." 
 
 "Wouldn't they let you work down at Lemuel Weeks's? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "Why not?" he asked. 
 
 " They said I wasn't honest ; they said they couldn't trust 
 me with things, 'cause when I was hungry I took things 
 to eat." 
 
 "Was that the way you were treated at other places? " 
 
 " Mostly." 
 
 "Jane," asked Holcroft, very kindly, "did anyone ever 
 kiss you?" 
 
 " Mother used to 'fore people. It alius made me kinder 
 sick." 
 
 Holcroft shook his head, as if this child was a problem 
 beyond him, -and for a time tTiey sat together in silence. At 
 last, he rose and said, " It's time to go home. Now, Jane, 
 don't follow me ; walk openly at my side, and when you 
 come to call me at any time, come openly, make a noise, 
 whistle or sing as a child ought. As long as you are with 
 me, never do any thing on the sly and we'll get along well 
 enough." 
 
 She nodded and walked beside him. At last, as if em- 
 boldened by his words, she, broke out, "Say, if mother 
 married you, you couldn't send us away, could you?" 
 
 "Why do you ask such a question?" said Holcroft, 
 frowning. 
 
 " I was a thinkin' " — 
 
 " Well," he interrupted, sternly, " never think or speak of 
 such things asain." ' 
 
no HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 The child had a miserable sense that she had angered 
 him ; she was also satisfied that her mother's schemes would 
 be futile, and she scarcely spoke again that day. 
 
 Holcroft was more than angry ; he was disgusted. That 
 Mrs. Mumpson's design upon him was so offensively open 
 that even this ignorant child understood it and was expected 
 to further it, caused such a strong revulsion in his mind that 
 he half resolved to put them both in his market wagon on 
 the morrow and take them back to their relatives. His 
 newly awakened sympathy for Jane quickly vanished. If 
 the girl and her mother had been repulsive from the first, 
 they were now hideous, in view of their efforts to fasten 
 themselves upon him permanently. Fancy, then, the climax 
 in his feelings when, as they passed the house, the front door 
 suddenly opened aind Mrs. Mumpson emerged with clasped 
 hands and the exclamation, " Oh, how touching ! — just like 
 father and child ! " 
 
 Without noticing the remark, he said coldly, as he passed, 
 "Jane, go help Mrs. Wiggins get supper." 
 
 His anger and disgust grew so strong as he hastily did his 
 evening work that he resolved not to endanger his self-con- 
 trol by sitting down within earshot of Mrs. Mumpson. As 
 soon as possible, therefore, he carried the new stove to his 
 room and put it up. The widow tried to address him as he 
 passed in and out, but he paid no heed to her. At last, he 
 only paused long enough at the kitchen door to say, " Jane, 
 bring me some supper to my room. Remember, you only 
 are to bring it." 
 
 Bewildered and abashed, Mrs. Mumpson rocked ner- 
 vously. " I had looked for relentings this evening, a gen- 
 eral softening," she murmured, " and I don't understand 
 his bearing towards me." Then a happy thought struck 
 her. " I see, I see," she cried softly and ecstatically : 
 " he is struggling with himself ; he finds that he must either 
 
JANE. 1 1 1 
 
 deny himself my society or -yield at once. The end is 
 near." 
 
 A little later she, too, appeared at the kitchen door and 
 said, with serious sweetness, " Jane, you can also bring me 
 my supper to the parlor." 
 
 Mrs. Wiggins shook with mirth in all her vast propoi-tions 
 as she remarked, " Jane, ye can bring me my supper from 
 the stove to the table 'ere, and then vai_t hon yeself." 
 
112 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 NOT WIFE, BUT WAIF. 
 
 TOM Watterly's horse was the pride of his heart. It was 
 a bobrtailed, raw-boned animal, but, as Tom compla- 
 cently remarked to Alida, " He can pass about any thing on 
 the road " — a boast that he let no chance escape of verifying. 
 It was a terrible ordeal to the poor woman to go dashing 
 through the streets in an open wagon, feeling that every eye 
 was upon her. With head bowed down, she employed her 
 failing strength in holding herself from falling out, yet almost 
 wishing that she might be dashed against some objept that 
 would end her wretched life. It finally occurred to Tom 
 that the woman at his side might not, after her recent expe- 
 rience, share in his enthusiasm, and he pulled up, remarking, 
 with a rough effort at sympathy, " It's a cussed shame you've 
 been treated so, and as soon as you're ready, I'll help you 
 get even with the scamp." 
 
 "I'm not well, sir," said Alida, humbly. " I only ask for 
 a quiet place where I can rest till strong enough to do some 
 kind of work." 
 
 " Well, well," said Tom, kindly, " don't lose heart. We'll 
 do the best by you we can. That ain't saying very much, 
 though, for we're full and running over." 
 
 He soon drew rein at the poor-house door and sprung out. 
 "I — I — feel strange," Alida gasped. 
 
 Tom caught the fainting woman in his arms and shouted, 
 " Here, Bill, Joe, you lazy loons, where are you ? " 
 
NOT WIFE, BUT WAIF. 1 13 
 
 Three or four half wrecks of men shuffled to his assist- 
 ance, and together they bore the unconscious woman to the 
 room which was used as a sort of hospital. Some old crones 
 gathered around with such restoratives as ihey had at com- 
 mand. Gradually the stricken woman revived, but as the 
 whole miserable truth came back, she turned her face to the 
 wall with a sinking of heart akin to despair. At last, from 
 sheer exhaustion, feverish sleep ensued, from uhich she often 
 started with moans and low cries. One impression haunted 
 her, — she was falling, ever falling into a dark, bottomless 
 abyss. 
 
 Hours passed in the same partial stupor, filled with phan- 
 toms and horrible dreams. Towards evening, she aroused 
 herself mechanically to take the broth Mrs. VVatterly ordered 
 her to swallow, then relapsed into the same lethargy. Late 
 in the night, she became conscious that some one was kneel- 
 ing at her bedside and fondling her. She started up with a 
 slight cry. 
 
 " Don't be afeard ; it's only me, dear," said a quavering 
 voice. 
 
 In the dim rays of a night lamp, Alida saw an old woman 
 with gray hair falling about her face and on her night-robe. 
 At first, in her confused, feverish impressions, the poor waif 
 was dumb with superstitious awe, and trembled between joy 
 and fear. Could her mother have come to comfort her in 
 her sore extremity? 
 
 " Put ye're head on me ould withered breast,'' said the 
 apparition, " an' ye'U know a mither's heart niver changes. 
 I've been alookin' for ye and expectin' ye these long, weary 
 years. They said ye wouldn't come back — that I'd niver 
 find ye ag'in ; but I knowed I wud, and here ye are in me 
 arms, me darlint. Don't draw away from ye're ould mither. 
 Don't ye be afeard or 'shamed loike. No matter what 
 ye've done or where ye've been or who ye've been with, a 
 
114 -^^ FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 mither's heart welcomes ye back jist the same as -when yes 
 were a babby an' slept on me breast. A mither's heart ud 
 quench the fires o' hell. I'd go inter the burnin' flames o' 
 the pit an' bear ye out in me arms. So niver fear. Now 
 that I've found ye, ye're safe. Ye'U not rin away from .me 
 ag'in. I'll hould ye, — I'll hould ye back," and the poor 
 creature clasped Alida with such convulsive energy tljat she 
 screamed from pain and terror. 
 
 " Ye shall not get away from me, ye shall not go" back to 
 evil ways. Whist, whist, be aisy and let me plead wid ye. 
 Think how many long, weary years I've looked for ye and 
 waited for yc. Niver have I slept noight or day in me watch- 
 in'. Ye may be so stained an' lost an' ruined that the whole 
 ■wourld will scorn ye, yet not ye're mither,' not ye're ould 
 mither. O Nora, Nora, why did ye rin away from me ? 
 Wasn't I koind? No, no, ye cannot lave me ag'in," and sEe 
 threw herself on Alida, whose disordered mind was tortured 
 by what she heard. Whether or not it was a more terrible 
 dream than had yet oppressed her, she scarcely knew, but in 
 the excess of her nervous horror she sent out a cry that 
 echoed in every part of the large building. Two old women 
 rushed in and dragged Alida's persecutor screaming away. 
 
 " That's alius the way o' it," she shrieked. " As soon as 
 I find me Nora they snatches me and carries me off, and I 
 have to begin me watchin' and waitin' and lookin' ag'in." 
 
 Alida continued sobbing and trembling violently. One 
 of the awakened patients sought to assure her by saying, 
 " Don't mind it so, miss. It's only old crazy Kate. Her 
 daughter ran away from her years and years ago, — how 
 many no one knows, — and when a young woman's brought 
 here she thinks it's her lost Nora. They oughtn't a let her 
 get out, knowin' you was here." 
 
 For several days Alida's reason wavered. The nervous 
 shock of her sad experiences had been so great that it did 
 
NOT WIFE, BUT WAIF. II5 
 
 not seem at all improbable that she, like the insane mother, 
 might be haunted for the rest of her life by an overwhelming 
 impression of something lost. In her morbid, shaken mind 
 she confounded the wrong she had received with guilt on 
 her own part. Eventually, she grew calmer and more sen- 
 sible. Although her conscience acquitted her of intentional 
 evil, nothing could remove the deep-rooted conviction that 
 she was shamed beyond hope of remedy. For a time she 
 was unable to rally from nervous prostration ; meanwhile, 
 her mind was preternaturally active, presenting every detail 
 of the past until she was often ready to cry aloud in her 
 despair. 
 
 Tom \Vatterly took an unusual interest in her case and 
 exhorted the visiting physician to do his best for her. She 
 finally began to improve, and with the first return of strength 
 sought to do something with her feeble hands. The bread 
 of charity was not sweet. 
 
 Although the place in which she lodged was clean, and 
 the coarse, unvarying fare abundant, she shrunk shuddering, 
 with each clay's clearer consciousness, from the majority of 
 those about her. Phases of life of which she had scarcely 
 dreamed were the common topics of conversation. In her 
 mother, she had learned to venerate gray hairs, and it was 
 an awful shock to learn that so many of the feeble creatures 
 about her were coarse, wicked, and evil-disposed. How 
 could their withered lips frame the words they spoke? 
 How could they dwell on subjects that were profanation, 
 even to such wrecks of womanhood as themselves ? 
 
 Moreover, they persecuted her by their curiosity. The 
 good material in her apparel had been examined and com- 
 mented on ; her wedding ring had been seen and its absence 
 soon noted, for Alida, after gaining the power to recall the 
 past fully, had thrown away the metal Jie, feeling that it 
 was the last link in a chain binding her to a loathed and 
 
Il6 . HE FELL IN LOVE' WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 hated relationship. Learning from their questions that the 
 inmates of the almshouse did not know her. history, she 
 refused to reveal it, thus awakening endless surmises. Many 
 histories were made for her, the beldams vieing with each 
 other in constructing the worst one. Poor Alida soon 
 learned that there was pubhc opinion even in an almshouse, 
 and that she was under its ban. In dreary despondency 
 she thought, " They've found out about me. If such crea- 
 tures as these think I'm hardly fit to speak to, how can I 
 ever find work among good, respectable people?" 
 
 Her extreme depression, the coarse, vulgar, and unchari- 
 table natures by which she was surrounded, retarded her 
 recovery. By her efforts to do any thing in lier power for 
 others she disarmed the hostility of some of the women, and 
 those that were more or less demented became fond of her ; 
 but the majority probed her wound by every look and word. 
 She was a saint compared with any of these, yet they made 
 her envy their respectability. She often thought, " Would 
 to God that I was as old and ready to die as the feeblest 
 woman here if I could only hold up my head like her." 
 
 One day a woman who had a child left it sleeping in 
 its rude wooden cradle' and went down stairs. The babe 
 wakened and began to cry. Alida took it up and found a 
 strange solace in rocking it to sleep again upon her breast. 
 At last the mother returned, glared a moment into Alida's 
 appealing eyes, then snatched the child away with the cruel 
 words, " Don't ye touch my baby ag'in. To think it ud 
 been in the arms o' the loikes o' ye ! " 
 
 Alida went away and sobbed until her strength was golie. 
 She found that there were some others ostracised like her- 
 self, but they accepted their positions as a matter of course, 
 — as if it belonged to them and, was the least of their 
 troubles. 
 
 Her strength was returning, yet she was still feeble when 
 
NOT WIFE, BUT WAIF. 11/ 
 
 she seiit for Mrs. Watterly and asked, " Do you think I'm 
 strong enough to take a place somewhere ? " 
 
 "You ought to know that better than me," was the chilly 
 reply. 
 
 " Do you — do you think I could get a place ? I would 
 be willing to do any kind of honest work not beyond my 
 strength." 
 
 "You hardly look able to sit up straight. Better wait 
 till you're stronger. I'll tell my husband. If applications 
 come, he'll see about it," and she turned coldly away. 
 
 A day or two later Tom came and said brusquely, but 
 not unkindly, "Don't like my hotel, hey? What can you 
 do?" 
 
 " I'm used to sewing, but I'd try to do almost any thing 
 by which I could earn my living." , 
 
 " Best thing to do is to prosecute that scamp and make 
 him pay you a good round sum." 
 
 She shook her head decidedly. " I don't wish to see 
 him again. I don't wish to go before people and have the 
 — the — past talked about. I'd like a place with some 
 kind, quiet people who keep no other help. Perhaps they 
 wouldn't take me if they knew ; but I would be so faithful 
 to them, and try so hard to learn what they wanted " — 
 
 " That's all nonsense, their not taking you. I'll find you 
 a place some day, but you're not strong enough yet. You'd 
 be brought right back here. You're as pale as a ghost — 
 almost look like one. So don't be impatient, but give me a 
 chance to find you a good place. I feel sorry for you, and 
 don't want you to get among folks that have no feelings. 
 Don't you worry now ; chirk up, and you'll come out all 
 right." 
 
 "I — I think that if — if I'm employed, the people who 
 take me ought to know," said Alida, with bo\ved head. 
 , " They'll be blamed fools if they don't think more of you- 
 
Il8 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 when they do know," was his response. " Still, that shall be 
 
 as you please. I've told only my wife, and they've kept 
 
 mum at the police station, so the thing hasn't got into the 
 
 papers." 
 
 ■ AUda's head bowed lower still as she replied, " I thank 
 
 you. My only wish now is to find some quiet place in which 
 
 I can work and be left to myself." 
 
 "Very well," said Tom, good-naturedly. "Cheer up, I'll 
 be on the lookout for you." 
 
 She turned to the window, near which she was sitting, to 
 hide the tears which his rough kindness evoked. " He don't 
 seem to shrink from me as if I wasn't fit to be spoken^ to," 
 she thought ; " but his wife did. I'm afraid people won't 
 take me when they know." 
 
 The April sunshine poured in at the window ; the grass 
 was becoming green ; a robin alighted on a tree near by and 
 poured out a jubilant song. For a few moments hope, that 
 had been almost dead in her heart, revived. As she looked 
 gratefully at the bird, thanking it in her heart for the song, 
 it darted upon a string hanging on an adjacent spray and 
 bore it to a crotch between two boughs. Then Alida saw 
 it was building a nest. Her woman's heart gave way. 
 " Oh," she moaned, " I shall never have a home again ! no 
 place shared by one who cares for me. To work, and to -be 
 tolerated io\ the sake of my work, is all that's left." 
 
A l^ITCHED BATTLE. I ig 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A PITCHED BATTLE. 
 
 IT was an odd household under Holcroft's roof on the 
 evening of the Sunday we have described. The farmer, 
 in a sense, had " taken sanctuary " in his own room, that 
 he might escape the manoeuvring wiles of his tormenting 
 housekeeper. If she would content herself with general 
 topics he would try to endure her foolish, high-flown talk 
 until the three months expired ; but that she should speedily 
 and openly take the initiative in matrimonial designs was 
 proof of such an unbalanced mind that he was filled with 
 nervous dread. " Hanged if one can tell what such a silly, 
 hair-brained woman will do next," he thought, as he brooded 
 by the fire. " Sunday or no Sunday, I feel as if I'd like to 
 take my horsewhip and give Lemuel Weeks a piece of my 
 mind." 
 
 Such musings did not promise well for Mrs. Mumpson, 
 scheming in the parlor below ; but, as we have seen, she 
 had the faculty of arranging all future events to her mind. 
 That matters had not turned out in the past as she had ex- 
 pected, counted for nothing. She was one who could not 
 be taught, even by experience. The most insignificant thing 
 in Holcroft's dwelling had not escaped her scrutiny and 
 pretty accurate guess as to value, yet she could not see or 
 understand the intolerable disgust and irritation which her 
 ridiculous conduct excited. In a weak mind, egotism and 
 selfishness, beyond a certain point, pass into practical insan- 
 
120 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 ity. All sense of delicacy, of the fitness of things, is lost ; 
 even the power to consider the rights and feelings of others 
 is wanting. Unlike poor Holcroft, Mrs. Mumpson had few 
 misgivings in regard to coming years. As she rocked un- 
 ceasingly before the parlor fire, she arranged every thing in 
 regard to his future as well as her own. 
 
 Jane, quite forgotten, was oppressed with a- miserable pre- 
 sentiment of evil. Her pinched but intense little mind was 
 concentrated on two facts, — Holcroft's anger and her 
 mother's lack of sense. From such premises it did not take 
 her long to reason out but one conclusion, — " visitin' again ;" 
 and this was the summing up of all evils. Now and then a 
 tear would force its way out of one of her little eyes, but 
 ptherwise she kept her troubles to herself. 
 
 Mrs. Wiggins was the only complacent personage in the 
 house, -and she unbent with a garrulous affability to Jane, 
 which could be accounted for in but one way, — Holcroft 
 had forgotten about his cider barrel, thereby unconsciously 
 giving her the chance to sample its contents freely. She 
 was now smoking her pipe with much content, and indul- 
 ging in pleasing reminiscences which the facts of her life 
 scarcely warranted. 
 
 " Ven hi vas as leetle a gall as ye are," she began, and 
 then she related experiences quite devoid of the simplicity 
 and innocence of childhood. The girl soon forgot her 
 fears and listened with avidity until the old dame's face 
 grew heavier, if possible, with sleep, and she stumbled off 
 to bed. 
 
 Having no wish to see or speak to her mother again, the 
 child blew out the candle and stole silently up the stairway. 
 At last Mrs. Mumpson took her light and went noisily around, 
 seeing to the fastenings of doors and windows. " I know he 
 is listening to every sound from me, and he shall learn what 
 a caretaker I am," she murmured softly. 
 
A PITCHED BATTLE. 121 
 
 Once out-of-doors in the morning, with his foot on the 
 native heatli of his farm, Holcroft's hopefulness and courage 
 ahvays returned. He was half .angry with himself at his 
 nervous irritation of the evening before. " If she becomes 
 so cranky that I can't stand her, I'll pay the three months' 
 wages and clear her out," he had concluded, and he went 
 about his morning work with a grim purpose to submit to 
 very little nonsense. 
 
 Cider is akin to vinegar, and Mrs. Wiggins's liberal pota- 
 tions of the evening before had evidendy imparted a marked 
 acidity to her temper. She laid hold of the kitchen utensils 
 as if she had a spite against them, and when Jane, confid- 
 ing in the friendliness shown so recently, came down to 
 assist, she was chased out of doors with language we forbear 
 to repeat. Mrs. Mumpson, therefore, had no intimation of 
 the low state of the barometer in the region of the kitchen. 
 " I have taken time to think deeply and calmly," she mur- 
 mured. " The proper course has been made clear to me. 
 He is somewhat uncouth ; he is silent and unable to express 
 his thoughts and emotions — in brief, undeveloped ; he is 
 awfully irreligious. Moth and rust are busy in this house ; 
 much that would be so useful is going to waste. He must 
 learn to look upon me as the developer, the caretaker, a 
 patient and helpful embodiment of female influence. I will 
 now begin actively ray mission of making him an ornerment 
 to society. That mountainous Mrs. Viggins must be re- 
 placed by a deferential girl who will naturally look up to 
 me. How can I be a true caretaker — how can I bring 
 repose and refinement to this dwelling with two hundred 
 pounds of female impudence always in my way ? Mr. Hol- 
 croft shall see that Mrs. Viggins is an unseemly and jarring 
 discord in our home," and she brought the rocking-chair 
 from the parlor to the kitchen, with a serene and lofty air. 
 Jane hovered near the window, watching. 
 
122 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 At first, there was an ominous silence in respect to words. 
 Portentous sounds increased, however, for Mrs. Wiggins 
 strode about- with martial tread, making the boards creak 
 and the dishes clatter, while her red eyes shot lurid and 
 sanguinary gleams. She would seize a dipper as if it were 
 a foe, slamming it upon the table again as if striking an 
 enemy. Under her vigorous manipulation, ketdes and pans 
 resounded with reports like firearms. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson was evidently perturbed ; her calm superi- 
 ority was forsaking her; every moment she rocked faster, 
 a sure indication that she was not at peace. At last she 
 said, with great dignity, " Mrs. Viggins, I must request you 
 to perform your tasks with less clamor. My nerves are not 
 equal to- this peculiar way of taking up and laying down 
 things." 
 
 " Veil, jes' ye vait a minute, han hi'll show ye 'ow hi kin 
 take hup things han put 'em down hag'in hout''o my vay," 
 and before Mrs. Mumpson could interfere, she found herself 
 lifted, chair and all bodily, and carried to the parlor. Be- 
 tween trepidation and anger, she could only gasp during the 
 transit, and when left in the middle of the parlor floor she 
 looked around in utter bewilderment. 
 
 It so happened that Holcroft,;^ on his way from the barn, 
 had seen Jane looking in at the window, and, suspecting 
 something amiss, had arrived just in time for the spectacle. 
 Convulsed with laughter, he returned hastily to the barn ; 
 while Jane expressed her feelings, whatever they were, by 
 executing something like a hornpipe before the window. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson, however, was not vanquished. She had 
 only made a compulsory retreat from the scene of hostilities, 
 and after rallying her shattered faculties, advanced again 
 with the chair. " How dared you, you disreputeible female," 
 she began. 
 
 Mrs. Wiggins turned slowly and ominously upon her. 
 
A PITCHED BATTLIi. 
 
 123 
 
 " Ye call me a disrupterbul female hag'in, ban ye vont find 
 hit 'ealthy." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson prudently backed towards the door before 
 delivering her return fire. 
 
 "Woman!" she cried, "are you out of your mind? 
 Don't you know I'm housekeeper here and that it's my 
 duty to superintend you and your work? " 
 
 " Veil, then hi'll double ye hup hand put ye hon the shelf 
 hof the dresser han' lock the glass door hon ye. From 
 hup there ye kin see all that's goin' hon and sup'intend 
 to ye're 'eart's content," and she started for her superior 
 officer. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson backed so precipitately with her chair that 
 it struck against the door-case and she sat down hard. See- 
 ing that Mrs. Wiggins was almost upon her, she darted back 
 into the parlor, leaving the chair as a trophy in the hands 
 of her enemy. Mrs. Wiggins was somewhat appeased by 
 this second triumph, and with the- hope of adding gall and 
 bitterness to Mrs. Mumpson's defeat, she took the chair to 
 her rival's favorite rocking-place^ lighted her pipe and sat 
 down in grim complacency. Mrs. Mumpson warily ap- 
 proached to recover ■§. support which, from long habit, had 
 become moral as well as physical, and her indignation knew 
 no bounds when she saw it creaking under the weight of 
 her foe. It must be admitted, however, that her ire was 
 not so great that she did not retain the " better part of 
 valor," for she stepped back, unlocked the front door and 
 set it ajar. Returning, she opened with a volubility that 
 awed even Mrs. Wiggins for a moment. " You miserable, 
 mountainous pauper, you interloper, you unrefined, irrespon- 
 serble, unregenerate female, do you know what you have 
 done in thus outraging me ? I'm a respecterble woman, 
 respecterbly connected. I'm here in a responserble station. 
 When Mr. Holcroft appears he'll drive you from the dwelling 
 
124 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 which you vulgarize. Your presence makes this apartment 
 a den. You are a wild beast " — ^ 
 
 "Hi'ni a vile beastes, ham hi?" cried Mrs. Wiggins, at 
 last stung into action, and she threw her lighted pipe at the 
 open mouth that was discharging high sounding epithets by 
 the score. 
 
 It struck the lintel over the widow's head, was shattered 
 and sent down upon her a shower. of villanously smeUing 
 sparks. Mrs. Mumpson shrieked and sought frantically to 
 keep her calico wrapper from taking fire. Meanwhile, Mrs. 
 Wiggins rose and took a step or two that she might assist 
 should , there be any positive danger, for she had not yet 
 reached a point of malignity which would lead her to witness 
 calmly an auto-da-fe. This was Jane's opportunity. Mrs. - 
 Wiggins had ahenated this small and hitherto friendly power, 
 and now, with a returning impulse of loyalty, it took sides 
 with the weaker party. The kitchen door was on a crack ; 
 the child pushed it noiselessly open, darted around behind 
 the stove and withdrew the rocking-chair. 
 
 Mrs. Wiggins's brief anxiety and pre-occupatipn passed and 
 she stepped backward again to sit down. She did sit down, 
 but with such terrific force that the stove and nearly every 
 thing else in the room threatened to fall with her. She sat 
 helplessly for a bewildered moment, while Jane, with the 
 chair, danced before her, exclaiming, tauntingly, " That's for 
 chasing me out as if I was a cat." 
 
 " Noo hi'll chase ye both hout," cried the ireful Wiggins, 
 scrambling to her feet. She made good her threat, for 
 Holcroft, a moment later, saw mother and daughter, the 
 latter carrying the chair, rushing from the front door, and 
 Mi-s. Wiggins, armed with a great wooden spoon, waddling 
 after them, her objurgations mingling with Mrs. Mumpson's 
 shrieks and Jane's shrill laughter. The widow caught a 
 glimpse of him standing in the barn-door, and, as if borne 
 
A PITCHED BATTLE. 1 25 
 
 by the wind, she flew towards him, crying, " He shall be my 
 protector." 
 
 He barely had time to whisk through a side door and 
 close it after him. The widow's impetuous desire to pant 
 out the story of her wrongs carried her into the midst of 
 the barnyard, where she was speedily confronted by an un- 
 ruly young heifer that could scarcely be blamed for hostility 
 to such a wild looking object. 
 
 The animal shook its head threateningly as it advanced. 
 Again the widow's shrieks resounded. This time Holcroft 
 was about to come to the rescue, when the beleagured woman 
 made a dash for the top of the nearest fence, reminding her 
 amused looker-on of the night of her arrival when she had 
 perched like some strange sort of bird on the wagon wheel. 
 
 Seeing that she was abundantly able to escape alone, the 
 farmer remained in concealment. Although disgusted and 
 angry at the scenes taking place he was scarcely able to 
 restrain roars of laughter. Perched upon the fence, the 
 widow called piteously for him to lift her down, but he was 
 not to be caught by any such device. At last, giving up 
 hope and still threatened by the heifer, she went over on 
 the other side. Knowing that she 'must make a detour 
 before reaching the dwelling, Holcroft went thither rapidly 
 with the purpose of restoring order at once. "Jane," he 
 said sternly, "take that chair to the parlor and leave it 
 there. Let there be no more such nonsense." 
 
 At his approach, Mrs. Wiggins had retreated sullenly to 
 the kitchen. " Come," he ordered, good-naturedly, " hasten 
 breakfast and let there be no more quarrelling." 
 
 " Hif hi vas left to do me work hin peace," — she began. 
 
 "Well, you shall do it in peace." 
 
 At this moment, Mrs. Mumpson came tearing in, quite 
 oblivious of the fact that she had left a goodly part of her 
 calico skirt on a nail of the fence. She was rushing towards 
 
126 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 Holcroft, when he said, sternly and with a repellent gesture, 
 " Stop and listen to me. If there's any more of this quar- 
 relling like cats and dogs in my house, I'll send for the con- 
 Stable and have you all arrested. If you are not all utterly 
 demented and hopeless fools you will know that you came 
 here to do my work, and nothing else." Then catching a 
 glimpse of Mrs. Mumpson's dress, and fearing he should 
 laugh outright, he turned abruptly on his heel and went to 
 his room, where he was in a divided state between irrepres- 
 sible inhrth and vexation. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson also fled to her room. She felt that the 
 proper course for her at this juncture was a fit of violent 
 hysterics; but a prompt douche from the water pitcher, 
 administered by the unsympathetic Jane, effectually checked 
 the first symptoms. " Was ever a respecterble woman " — 
 
 "You aint respectable," interrupted the girl, as she 
 departed, " you look like a scarecrow. 'Fi's you I'd begin 
 to show some sense now." 
 
WlfAT IS TO BECOME OF ME?" 12J 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 "what is to become of me?" 
 
 HOLCROFT'S reference to a constable and arrest, though 
 scarcely intended to be more than a vague threat, had 
 the effect of clearing the air like a clap of thunder. _ Jane 
 had never lost her senses, such as she possessed, and Mrs. 
 Wiggins recovered hers sufficiently to apologize to the farmer 
 when he came down to breakfast. " But that Mumpson's 
 hawfuUy haggravatin', master, as ye know yeself, hi'm 
 a-thinkin'. Vud ye jis tell a body vat she is 'ere han 'ow 
 hi'm to get hon vith 'er. .Hif hi'm to take me horders 
 from 'er hi'd ruther go back to the poor-'us." 
 
 " You are to take your orders from me and no one else. 
 All I ask is that-you go on quietly with your work and pay 
 no attention to her. You know well enough that I can't 
 have such goings on. I want you to let Jane help you and 
 learn how to do every thing as far as she can. Mrs. Mumpson 
 can do the mending and ironing, I suppose. At any rate, I 
 won't have any more quarrelling and uproar. I'm a quiet 
 man and intend to have a quiet house. You and Jane can 
 get along very well in the kitchen, and you say you under- 
 stand the dairy work." 
 
 "Veil, hi does, han noo hi've got me horders hi'U go 
 right alongl" 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson was like one who had been rudely shaken 
 out of a dream, and she appeared to have sense enough to 
 realize that she couldn't assume so much at first as she 
 
128 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 anticipated. She received from Jane a cup of coffee, and 
 said, feebly, " I can partake of no niore after the recent 
 trying events." 
 
 For some hours she was a little dazed, but her mind was 
 of too light weight to be -long cast down. Jane rehearsed 
 Holcroft's words, described his 'manner, and sought with 
 much insistence to show her mother that she must drop her 
 nonsense at once. " I can see it in his eye," said the girl, 
 " that he won't stand much more. If yer don't come down 
 and keep yer hands busy and yer tongue still, we'll tramp. 
 As to his marrying you, bah ! he'd jes' as soon marry Mrs. 
 Wiggins." 
 
 This was awful prose, but Mrs. Mumpson was too bewil- 
 dered and discouraged for a time to dispute it, and the 
 household fell into a somewhat regular routine. The widow 
 appeared at her meals with the air of a meek and suffering 
 martyr ; Holcroft was exceedingly brief in his replies to her 
 questions and paid no heed to her remarks. After supper 
 and his evening work, he went directly to his room. Every 
 day, however, he secretly chafed, with ever-increasing dis- 
 content, over this tormenting presence in his house. The 
 mending and such work as she attempted was so wretchedly 
 performed that it would better have been left undone. She 
 was also recovering her garrulousness, and mistook his tolera- 
 tion and her immunity in the parlor for proof of a growing 
 consideration. " He knows that my hands were never made 
 for such coarse, menial tasks as that Viggins does," she 
 thought, as she 'darned one of his stockings in a way that 
 would render it almost impossible for him to put his foot 
 into it again. " The events of last Monday morning were 
 unfortunate, unforeseen, unprecedented. I was unprepared 
 for such vulgar, barbarous, unheard of proceedings — taken 
 off my feet, as it were ; but now that he's had time to think 
 it all over he sees that I am not a common woman like Vig- 
 
" WHAT IS TO BECOME OF ME?" 1 29 
 
 gins," — Mrs. Mumpson would have suffered much rather 
 than have accorded her enemy the prefix of Mrs., — " who 
 is only fit to be among pots and kettles. He leaves me 
 in the parlor as if a refined apartment became me and I 
 became it. Time and my influence will mellow, soften, ele- 
 vate, develop, and at last awaken a desire fbr my society, 
 then yearnings. My first error was in not giving myself 
 time to make a proper impression. He will soon begin to 
 yield like the earth without. First it is hard and frosty, then 
 it is cold and muddy, if I may permit myself so disagreeable 
 an illustratioH. Now he is becoming mellow, and. soon every 
 word I utter will be like good seed in good ground. How 
 aptly it all fits. I have only to be patient.'' 
 
 She was filially left almost to utter idleness, for Jane and 
 Mrs. Wiggins gradually took from the incompetent hands 
 even the light tasks which she had attempted. She made 
 no protest, regarding all as another proof , that Holcroft was 
 beginning to recognize her superiority and unfitness for 
 menial tasks. She would maintain, however, her character 
 as the caretaker and ostentatiously inspected every thing; 
 she also tried to make as much noise in fastening up the 
 dwelling at night as if she were barricading a castle. Hol- 
 croft would listen grimly, well aware that no house had been 
 entered in Oakville during his memory. He had taken an 
 early occasion to say at the table that he wished no one to 
 enter his room except Jane, and that he would not permit 
 any infringement of this rule. Mrs. Mumpson's feelings had 
 been hurt at first by this order, but she soon satisfied herself 
 that it had been meant for Mrs. Wiggins's benefit and not 
 her own. She found, however, that Jane interpreted it liter- 
 ally. " If either of you s_et foot in that room I'll tell him," 
 she said, flatly. " I've had my orders and I'm a-goin' to obey> 
 There's to be no more rummagin'. If you'll give me the 
 keys I'll put things back in order ag'in." 
 
I30 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Well, I won't give you the keys. I'm the proper person 
 to put things in order if you did not replace them properly. 
 You are just making an excuse to rummage yourself. My 
 motive for inspecting is very different from yours." 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder if you was sorry some day," the girl 
 had remarked, and so the matter had dropped and been for- 
 gotten. 
 
 Holcroft solaced himself with the fact that Jane and Mrs. 
 Wiggins served his meals regularly and looked after the 
 dairy with better care than it had received since his wife 
 died. " If I had only those two in the house I could get 
 along first-rate," he thought. " After the three months are 
 up I'll try to make such an arrangement. I'd pay the 
 mother and send her off now, but if I did, Lemuel Weeks 
 would put her up to a lawsuit." 
 
 April days brought the longed-for ploughing and planting, 
 and the farmer was so busy and absorbed in his work that 
 Mrs. Mumpson had less and less place in his thoughts, even 
 as a thorn in the flesh. One bright afternoon, however, 
 chaos came again unexpectedly. Mrs. Wiggins did not 
 suggest a volatile creature, yet such, alas ! she was. She 
 apparently exhaled and was lost, leaving no trace. The cir- 
 cumstances of her disappearance permit of a very matter-of- 
 fact and not very creditable explanation. On the day in 
 question she prepared an unusually good dinner, and the 
 farmer had enjoyed it in spite of Mrs. Mumpson's presence 
 and desulttfry remarks. The morning had been fine and 
 he had made progress in his early spring work. Mrs. Wig- 
 gins felt that her hour and opportunity had come. Follow- 
 ing him to the door, she said in a low tone and yet with a 
 decisive accent, as if she was claiming a right, " Master, hi'd 
 thank ye for me two weeks' wages." 
 
 He unsuspectingly and unhesitatingly gave it to her, think- 
 ing, " That's the way with such people. They want to be 
 
" WHAT IS TO BECOME OF ME?" 13 1 
 
 paid often and be sure of their money. She'll work all the 
 better for having it." 
 
 Mrs. Wiggins knew the hour when the stage passed the 
 house ; she had made up a bundle wit"hout a very close 
 regard to meum or tuum, and was ready to flit. The chance 
 speedily came. 
 
 The " caretaker " was rocking in the parlor and would dis- 
 dain to look, while Jane had gone out to help plant some 
 early potatoes on a warm hillside. The coast was clear. See- 
 ing the stage coming, the old woman Waddled down the lane 
 at a remarkable pace, paid her fare to town, and the Holcroft 
 kitchen knew her no more. That she found the "friend" 
 she had wished to see on her way out to the farm, and that 
 this friend brought her quickly under Tom Watterly's care 
 again, goes without saying. 
 
 As the shadows lengthened and the robins became tune- 
 ful, Holcroft said, "You've done well, Jane. Thank you. 
 Now you can go back to the house." 
 
 The child soon returned in breathless haste to the field 
 where the farmer was covering the potato pieces she had 
 dropped, and cried, " Mrs. Wiggins 's gone." 
 
 Like a flash, the woman's motive in asking for her wages 
 occurred to him, but he started for the house to assure 
 himself of the truth. " Perhaps she's in the cellar," he said, 
 remembering the cider barrel, " or else she's out for a walk." 
 
 " No, she ain't," persisted Jane. " I've looked everywhere 
 and all over the barn, and she ain't nowhere. Mother hain't 
 seen her, nuther." 
 
 With 'dreary misgivings, Holcroft remembered that he no 
 longer had a practical ally in the old Enghshwoman, and he 
 felt that a new breaking up was coming. He looked wist- 
 fully at Jane, and thought, " I could get along with that child 
 if the mother was away. But that can't be ; she'd visit here 
 indefinitely if Jane stayed." 
 
132 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 When Mrs. Mumpson learned from Jane of Mrs. Wiggins's 
 disappearance, she was thrown into a state of strong excite- 
 ment. She felt that her hour and opportunity might be 
 near also, and she began to rock very fast. "What else 
 could he expect of such a female ? " she soliloquized. " I've 
 no doubt but she's taken things, too. He'll now learn my 
 value and what it is to have a caretaker who will never 
 desert him." 
 
 Spirits and courage rose with the emergency ; her thoughts 
 hurried her along like a dry leaf caught in a March gale. 
 " Yes," she murmured, " the time has come for me to act, 
 to dare, to show him in his desperate need and hour of 
 desertion what might be, may be, must be. He will now 
 see clearly the difference between these peculiar females 
 who come and go, and a respecterble woman and a mother 
 who can be depended upon — one who will never steal away 
 like a thief in the night," 
 
 She saw Holcroft approaching the house with Jane ; she 
 heard him ascend to Mrs. Wiggins's room, then return to the 
 kitchen and ejaculate, " Yes, she's gone, sure enough." 
 
 " Now, act" murmured the widow, and she rushed towards 
 the farmer with clasped hands, and cried with emotion, 
 "Yes, she's gone ; but I'm not gone. You are not deserted. 
 Jane will minister to you ; I will be the caretaker, and our 
 home will be all the happier because that monstrous creature 
 is absent. Dear Mr. Holcroft, don't be so blind to your own 
 interests and happiness, don't remain undeveloped. Every 
 thing is wrong here if you would but see it. You are lonely 
 and desolate. Moth and rust have entered, things in un- 
 opened drawers and closets are moulding and going to waste. 
 Yield to true female influence and " — 
 
 Holcroft had been rendered speechless at first by this 
 onslaught, but the reference to unopened drawers and clos- 
 ets awakened a sudden suspicion. Had she dared to touch 
 
" IVHAT IS TO BECOME OF ME?" 1 33 
 
 what had belonged to his wife? "What!" he exclaimed 
 sharply, interrupting her ; then with an expression of disgust 
 and anger, he passed her swiftly and went to his room. A 
 moment later came the stern summons, "Jane, come here." 
 
 " Now you'll see what'll come of that rummagin'," whim- 
 pered Jane. " You ain't got no sense at all to go at him 
 so. He's jes' goin' to put us right out," and she went up 
 stairs as if to execution. 
 
 " Have I failed ? " gasped Mrs. Mumpson, and retreating 
 to the chair, she rocked nervously. 
 
 "Jane," said Holcroft, in hot anger, " my wife's things 
 have been pulled out of her bureau and stuffed back again 
 as if they were no better than dishcloths. Who did it ? " 
 
 The 'child now began to cry aloud. 
 
 " There, there," he said, with intense irritation, " I can't 
 trust you either." 
 
 " I hain't — touched 'em — since you told me — told me 
 — not to do things on the sly," the girl sobbed, brokenly; 
 but he had closed the door upon her, and did not hear. 
 
 He could have forgiven her almost any thing but this. 
 Since she only had been permitted to take care of his room, 
 he naturally thought that she committed the sacrilege, and 
 her manner had confirmed this impression. Of course the 
 mother had been present and probably had assisted ; but 
 he had expected nothing better of her. 
 
 He took the things out, folded and smoothed them as 
 carefully as he could with his heavy hands and clumsy 
 fingers. His gentle, almost reverent touch was in strange 
 contrast with his flushed, angry face and gleaming eyes. 
 "This is the worst that's happened yet," he muttered. " O 
 Lemuel Weeks, it's well you are not here now, or we might 
 both have cause to be sorry. It was )'ou who put these pry- 
 ing, and for all I know, thieving creatures into my house, 
 and it was as mean a trick as ever one man played another. 
 
134 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 You and this precious cousin of yours thought you could 
 bring about a marriage ; you put her up to her ridiculous 
 antics. Faugh ! the very thought of it all makes me sick." 
 
 "O mother, what shall I do?" Jane cried, rushing into 
 the parlor and throwing herself on the floor, " he's goin' to 
 put us right out." 
 
 " He can't put me out before the three months are up," 
 quavered the widow. 
 
 " Yes, he can. We've been a rummagin' where we'd no 
 bizniss to be. He's mad enough to do any thing ; he jes' 
 looks awful ; I'm afraid of him." 
 
 " Jane," said her mother, plaintively, " I feel indisposed. 
 I think I'll retire." 
 
 "Yes, that's the way withjc(?»," sobbed the child. "You 
 got me into the scrape and now you retire." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson's confidence in herself and her schemes 
 was terribly shaken. " I must act very discreetly, I must 
 be alone that I may think over these untoward events. Mr. 
 Holcroft has been so warped by the past female influences 
 of his life that there's no counting on his action. He taxes 
 me sorely," she explained, and then ascended the stairs. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! " moaned the child, as she writhed on the 
 floor, " Mother ain't got no sense at all. What is goin' to 
 become of me? I'd ruther hang about his barn than go 
 back to cousin Lemuel's or any other cousin's." 
 
 Spurred by one hope, she at last sprung up and went to 
 die kitchen. It was already growing dark, and she lighted 
 the lamp, kindled the fire, and began getting supper with 
 breathless energy. 
 
 As far as he could discover, Holcroft was satisfied that 
 nothing had been taken. In this respect he was right. Mrs. 
 Mumpson's curiosity and covetousness were boundless, but 
 she would not steal. There are few who do not draw the 
 line somewhere. 
 
" WHAT TS TO BECOME OF ME?» 1 35 
 
 Having tried to put the articles back as they were before, 
 he locked them up, and went hastily down and out, feeling 
 that he must regain his self-control and decide upon his 
 future action at once. " I will then carry out my purposes 
 in a way that will give the Weeks tribe no chance to make 
 trouble." 
 
 As he passed the kitchen windows he saw Jane rushing 
 about as if possessed, and he stopped^to watch her. It soon 
 became evident that she was trying to get his supper. His 
 heart relented at once in spite of himself "The poor, 
 wronged child ! " he muttered. " Why should I be so hard 
 on her for doing what she's been brought up to do ? Well, 
 well, it's too bad to send her away, but I can't help it. I'd 
 lose my own reason if the mother was here much longer, 
 and if I kept Jane, her idiotic mother would stay in spite of 
 me. ^f she didn't, there'd be endless talk and lawsuits, too, 
 like enough, about separating parent and child. Jane's too 
 young and little, anyway, to be here alone and do the work. 
 But I'm sorry for her, I declare I am, and I wish I could do 
 something to give her a chance in the world. If my wife 
 was only living we'd take and bring her up, disagreeable 
 and homely as she is ; but there's no use of my trying to do 
 any thing alone. I fear, after all, that I shall have to give 
 up the old place and go, — I don't know where. What is 
 to become of her ? " 
 
136 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MRS. mumpson's vicissitudes. 
 
 HAVING completed her preparations for supper, Jane 
 stole timidly up to Holcroft's room to summon him. 
 Her first rap on his. door was scarcely audible, then she ven- 
 tured to knock louder and finally to call him, but there was 
 no response. Full of vague dread she went to her mother's 
 room and said, " He won't answer me j he's so awful mad 
 that I don't know what he'll do." 
 
 " I think he has left his apartment," her mother moaned 
 from the bed. 
 
 "Why couldn't yer tell me so before?" cried Jane. 
 "What yer gone to bed for? If you'd only show some 
 sense and try to do what he brought you here for, like 
 enough he'd keep us yet." 
 
 " My heart's too crushed, Jane " — 
 
 " Oh, bother, bother ! " and the child rushed away. She 
 looked into the dark parlor and called, " Mr. . Holcroft ! " 
 Then she appeared in the kitchen again, the picture of un- 
 couth distress and perplexity. A moment later she opened 
 the door and darted towards the bam. 
 
 " What do you wish, Jane ? " said Holcroft, emerging firom 
 a shadowy corner and recalling her. 
 
 " Sup — supper's — ready," sobbed the child. 
 
 He came in and sat down at the table, considerately ap- 
 pearing not to notice her until she had a chance to recover 
 composure. She vigorously used the sleeves of both arms 
 
MRS. MUMPSON'S VICISSITUDES. 1 37 
 
 in dr)^ng her eyes, then stole in and found a seat in a dusky 
 comer. 
 
 "Why don't you come to supper?" he asked quietly. 
 
 " Don't want any." 
 
 "You had better take some up to your mother.'' 
 
 "She oughtn't to have any." 
 
 " That doesn't make any difference. I want you to take 
 up something to her, and then come down and eat your sup- 
 per hke a sensible girl." 
 
 " I ain't been sensible, nor mother nuther." 
 
 " Do as I. say, Jane.'' The child obeyed, but she couldn't 
 swallow any thing but a little coffee. 
 
 Holcroft was in a quandary. He had not the gift of 
 speaking soothing yet meaningless words, and was too 
 honest to raise false hopes. He was therefore almost as 
 silent and embarrassed as Jane herself. To the girl's furtive 
 scrutiny, he did not seem hardened against her, and she at 
 last ventured, " Say, I didn't touch them drawers after you 
 told me not to do any thing on the sly." 
 
 "When were they opened? Tell me the truth, Jane." 
 
 "Mother opened them the first day you left us alone. I 
 told her you wouldn't like it, but she said she was house- 
 keeper ; she said how it was her duty to inspect every thing. 
 I wanted to inspect too. We was jest rummagin' — that's 
 what it was. After the things were all pulled out, mother 
 got the rocker and wouldn't do any thing. It was gettin' 
 late, and I was frightened and poked 'em back in a hurry. 
 Mother wanted to rummage ag'in the other day and I 
 wouldn't let her ; then she wouldn't let me have the keys, 
 so I could fix 'em up." 
 
 " But the keys were in my pocket, Jane." 
 
 " Mother has a lot of keys. I've told you jes' how it all 
 was." 
 
 " Nothing was taken away? " 
 
138 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " No. Mother ain't got sense, but she never takes things. 
 I nuther 'cept when I'm hungry. Never took any thing 
 here. Say, are you goin' to send us away ? " 
 
 " I fear I shall have to, Jane. I'm sorry for you, for I 
 believe you would try to do the best you could if given a 
 chance, and I can see you never had a chance." 
 
 " No," said the child, blinking hard to keep the tears out 
 of her eyes. "I ain't had^no teachin'. I've jes' kinder 
 growed along with the farm hands and rough boys. Them 
 that didn't hate me teased me. Say, couldn't I stay in your 
 barn and sleep in the hay? " 
 
 Holcroft was sorely perplexed and pushed away his half- 
 eaten supper. He knew himself what it was to be friendless 
 and lonely, and his heart softened towards this worse than 
 motherless child. 
 
 " Jane," he said, kindly, " I'm just as sorry for you as I 
 can be, but you don't know the difficulties in the way of 
 what you wish and I fear I can't make you understand them. 
 Indeed, it would not be best to tell you all of them. If I 
 could keep you at all, you should stay in the house, and I'd 
 be kind to you, but it can't be. I may not stay here myself. 
 My future course is very uncertain. There's no use of my 
 trying to go on as I have. Perhaps some day 1 can do 
 something for you, and if I can, I will. I will pay your 
 mother her three months' wages in full in the morning, and 
 then I want you both to get your things into your trunk, 
 and I'll take you to your cousin Lemuel's." 
 
 Driven almost to desperation, Jane suggested the only 
 scheme she could think of. " If you stayed here and I run 
 away and came back, wouldn't you keep me ? I'd work all 
 day and all night jes' for the sake of stajfin'." 
 
 " No, Jane," said Holcroft, firmly, " you'd make me no end 
 of trouble if you did that. If you'll be a good girl and 
 learn how to do things, I'll try to find you a place among 
 
MRS. MUMPSON'S VICISSITUDES. 1 39 
 
 kind people some day when you're older and can act for 
 yourself." 
 
 "You're afraid 'fi's here mother'd come a-visitin'," said 
 the girl, keenly. 
 
 "You're too young to understand half the trouble that 
 might follow. My plans are too uncertain for me to tangle 
 myself up. You and your mother must go away at once, sO 
 I can do what I must do before it's too late in the season. 
 Here's a couple of dollars which you can keep for yourself," 
 and he went up to his room, feeling that he could not witness 
 the child's distress any longer. 
 
 He fought hard against despondency and tried to face the 
 actual condition of his affairs. " I might ,have known," he 
 thought, " that things would have turned out somewhat as 
 they have, with such women in the house, and I don't see 
 much chance of getting better ones. I've been so bent on 
 staying and going on as I used to that I've just shut my eyes 
 to the facts." He got out an old account book and pored 
 over it a long time. The entries therein were blind enough, 
 but at last he concluded, " It's plain that I've lost money on 
 the dairy ever since my wife died, and the prospects now are 
 worse than ever. That Weeks tribe will set the whole town 
 talking against me and it will be just about impossible to get 
 a decent woman to come here. I might as well have an 
 auction and sell all the cows but one, at once. After that, 
 if I find I can't make out living alone, I'll put the place in 
 better order and sell or rent. I can get my own meals after 
 a fashion, and old Jonathan Johnson's wife will do my wash- 
 ing and mending. It's time it was done better than it has 
 been, for some of my clothes make me look like a scarecrow. 
 I believe Jonathan will come with his cross dog and stay 
 here too, when I must be away. Well, well, it's a hard lot 
 for a man ; but I'd be about as bad off, and a hundred fold 
 more lonely, if I went anywhere else. I can only feel my 
 
I40 HE FELL m LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 way along and live a day at a time. I'll learn what can be 
 done and what can't be. One thing is clear ; I can't go on 
 with this Mrs. Mumpson in the house a day longer. She 
 makes me creep and crawl all over, and the first thing I 
 know I shall be swearing hke a bloody pirate unless I get 
 rid of her. If she wasn't such a hopeless idiot I'd let her 
 stay for the sake of Jane, but I won't pay her good. wages 
 to make my life a burden a day longer," and with like self- 
 communings he spent the evening until the habit of early 
 " drowsiness overcame him. 
 
 The morning found Jane dispirited and a little sullen, as 
 older and wiser people are apt to be when disappointed, 
 She employed herself in getting breakfast carelessly and 
 languidly, and the result was not satisfactory. 
 
 " Where's your mother? " Holcroft asked when he came in. 
 
 " She told me to tell you she was indisposed." 
 
 " Indjsposed to go to Lemuel Weeks's ? " 
 
 " I spect she means she's sick." 
 
 He frowned and looked suspiciously at the. girl. Here 
 was a new complication, and very possibly a trick. 
 ■ " What's the matter with her? " 
 
 " Dunno." 
 
 " Well, she had better get well enough to go by this after- 
 noon," he remarked, controlUng his irritation with difficulty, 
 and nothing more was said. 
 
 Full of his new plans, he spent a busy forenoon and then 
 came to dinner. It was the same old story. He went up 
 and knocked at Mrs. Mumpson's door, saying- that he wished 
 to speak with hej, 
 
 " I'm too indisposed to transact business," she replied 
 feebly. 
 
 " You must be ready to-morrow morning," he called. " I 
 have business plans which can't be delayed," and he turned 
 away muttering rather sulphurous words. 
 
MRS. MUMPSON'S VICISSITUDES. 141 
 
 " He will relent ; his hard heart will soften at last " — But 
 we shall not weary the reader with the long soliloquies with 
 which she beguiled her politic seclusion, as she regarded it. 
 Poor, unsophisticated Jane made matters worse. The con- 
 dition of life among her much visited relatives now existed 
 again. She was not wanted, and her old sly, sullen, and 
 furtive manner re-asserted itself. Much of Holcroft's sym- 
 pathy was thus alienated, yet he partially understood and 
 pitied her. It became, however, all the more clear that he 
 must get rid of both mother and child, and that further rela- 
 tions with either of them could only lead to trouble. 
 
 The following morning only Jane appeared. " Is your 
 mother really sick ? " he asked. 
 
 " S'pose so," was the laconic reply. 
 
 " You haven't taken much pains with the breakfast, Jane." 
 
 " 'Taint no use," 
 
 With knitted brows he thought deeply, and silently ate the 
 wretched meal which had been prepared. Then, remark- 
 ing that he might do some writing, he went up to a small 
 attic room which had been used occasionally by a hired man. 
 It contained a covered pipe-hole leading into the chimney-' 
 flue. Removing the cover, he stopped up the flue with an 
 old woollen coat. " I suppose I'll have to meet tricks with 
 tricks," hfi muttered. 
 
 Returning to his own apartment, he lighted a fire in the 
 stove and laid upon the kindling blaze some dampened wood, 
 then went out and quietly hitched his horses to the wagon. 
 
 The pungent odor of smoke soon filled the house. The 
 cover over the pipe-hole in Mrs. Mumpson's room was not 
 very secure, and thick volumes began to pour in upon the 
 startled widow. "Jane ! " she shrieked. 
 
 If Jane was sullen towards Holcroft, she was furious at her 
 mother, and paid no heed at first to her cry. 
 
 " Jane^ Jane, the house is on fire ! " 
 
142 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 Then the child did fly up the stairway. The smoke seemed 
 to confirm the words of her mother, who was dressing in hot 
 haste. " Run and tell Mr. Holcroft," she cried. 
 
 " I won't," said the girl. " If he won't keep us in the 
 house I don't care if he don't have any house." 
 
 " No, no, tell him," screamed Mrs. Mumpson. " If we 
 save his house he will relent. Gratitude will overwhelm 
 him. So far from turning us away, he will sue, he will plead 
 for forgiveness for his former harshness ; his home saved will 
 be our home won. Just put our things in the trunk first. 
 Perhaps the house can't be saved, and you know we- must 
 save our things. Help me, quick. There, there now, now" — 
 both were sneezing and choking in a- half-strangled manner. 
 " Now let me lock it ; my hand trembles so ; take hold 
 and drag it out ; drag it down stairs ; no matter how it 
 scratches things ! " 
 
 Having reached the hall below, she opened the door and 
 shrieked for Holcroft ; Jane also began running towards the 
 barn. The farmer came hastily out, and shouted, " What's 
 the matter?" 
 
 "The house is on fire ! " they screamed in chorus. 
 
 To carry out his ruse, he ran swiftly to the house. Mrs. 
 Mumpson stood before him wringing her hands and crying, 
 " O dear Mr. Holcroft, can't I do any thing to help you? I 
 would so like to help you and " — 
 
 " Yes, my good woman, let me get in the door and see 
 what's the matter. Oh, here's your trunk. That's sensible. 
 Better get it outside," and he went up the stairs two steps at 
 a time and r-ushed into his room. 
 
 " Jane, Jane," ejaculated Mrs. Mumpson, sinking on a seat 
 in the porch, " he called me his good woman ! " But Jane 
 was busy dragging the trunk out of doors. Having secured 
 her own and her mother's worldly possessions, she called, 
 "Shall I brin^ water and carry things out?" 
 
MRS. MUMPSON'S VICISSITUDES. I43 
 
 " No," he replied, " not yet. There's something the mat- 
 ter with the chimney," and he hastened up to the attic room, 
 removed the clog from the flue, put on the cover again, and 
 threw open the window. Ruturning, he locked the door of 
 the room which Mrs. Mumpson had occupied and came 
 down stairs. " I must get a ladder and examine the chim- 
 ney," he said as he passed. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Mr. Holcroft," the widow began. 
 
 " Can't talk with you yet," and he hastened on. 
 
 " As soon as he's sure the house is safe, Jane, all will be 
 well." But the girl had grown hopeless and cynical. She 
 had not penetrated his sch,eme to restore her mother to 
 health, but understood the man well enough to be sure that 
 her mother's hopes would end as they had in the past. She 
 sat down apathetically on the trunk to see what would happen 
 next. 
 
 After a brief inspection Holcroft came down from the roof 
 and said, " The chimney will have to be repaired," which 
 was true enough and equally so of other parts of the dwelling. 
 The fortunes of the owner were reflected in the appearance 
 of the building. 
 
 If it were a possible thing Holcroft wished to carry out 
 his ruse undetected, and he hastened up stairs again, ostensi- 
 bly to see that all danger had passed, but in reality to prepare 
 his mind for an intensely disagreeable interview. "I'd 
 rather face a mob of men than that one idiotic woman," he 
 muttered. " I could calculate the actions of a setting hen 
 with her head cut off better than 1 can this widow's. But 
 there's no help for it," and he came down looking very reso- 
 lute. " I've let the fire in my stove go out, and there's no 
 more danger," he said, quietly, as he sat down on the porch 
 opposite Mrs. Mumpson. 
 
 "Oh-h," she exclaimed, with a long breath of relief, 
 " we've saved the dwelling. What would we have done 
 
144 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 if it had burned down! We would have been home- 
 less." 
 
 " That may be my condition soon, as it is," he said, coldly. 
 " I am very glad, Mrs. Mumpson, that you are so much bet- 
 ter. As Jane told you, I suppose, I will pay you the sum I 
 agreed to give you fer three months' service " — 
 
 " My dear Mr. Holcroft, my nerves have been too shaken 
 to talk business this morning," and the widow leaned back 
 and looked as if she were going to faint. " I'm only a poor 
 lone woman," she added feebly, " and you cannot b^ so 
 lacking in the milk of human kindness as, to take advantage 
 of me." 
 
 " No, madam, nor shall I allow you and Lemuel Weeks to 
 take advantage of me. This is my house and I have a right 
 to make my own arrangements." 
 
 " It might all be arranged so easily in another way," sighed 
 the widow. 
 
 " It cannot be arranged in any other way " -^ he began. 
 
 " Mr. Holcroft," she cried, leaning suddenly forward with 
 clasped hands and speaking effusively, " you but now called 
 me your good woman. Think how much those words mean. 
 Make them true, now that you've spoken them. Then you 
 won't be homeless and will never need a caretaker." 
 
 "Are you making me- an offer of marriage?" he asked 
 with a lowering brow. 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed!" she simpered. "That wouldn't be 
 becoming in me. I'm only responding to your own 
 words." 
 
 Rising, he said sternly, " No power on earth could induce 
 me to marry you, and that would be plain enough if you 
 were in your right mind. I shall not stand this foolishness 
 another moment. You must go with me at once to Lemuel 
 Weeks's. If you will not I'll have you taken to an insane 
 asylum." 
 
MRS. MUMPSON'S VICISSITUDES. - I45 
 
 "To an insane asylum ! What for?" she half-shrieked, 
 springing to her feet. 
 
 " You'll see," he replied, going down the steps. " Jump 
 up, Jane. — I sliall now take the trunk to your cousin's* If 
 you are so crazy as to stay in a man's house when he don't 
 want you and won't have you, you are fit only for an asylum." 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson was sane enough to perceive that she was 
 at the end of her adhesive resources. In his possession of 
 her trunk, the farmer also had a strategic advantage which 
 made it necessary for her to yield. She did so, however, 
 with very bad grace. When he drove up, she bounced into 
 the wagon as if made of india rubber, while Jane followed 
 slowly, with a look of sullen apathy. He touched his horses 
 with the whip into a smart trot, scarcely daring to believe in 
 his good fortune. The lane was rather steep and rough, and 
 he soon had to pull up lest the object of his unhappy solici- 
 tude should be jolted out of the vehicle. This gave the 
 widow her chance to open fire. " The end has not come 
 yet, Mr. Holcroft," she said, vindictively. " You may think 
 you are going to have an easy triumph over a poor, friend- 
 less, unfortunate, sensitive, afflicted woman and a fatherless 
 child, but you shall soon learn that there's a law in the land. 
 You have addressed improper words to me, you have threat- 
 ened me, you have broken your agreement. I have writ- 
 ings, I have a memory, I have language to plead the cause 
 of the widow and the fatherless. I have been wronged, out- 
 raged, trampled upon, and then turned out of doors. The 
 indignant world shall hear my story, the finger of scorn will 
 be pointed at you. Your name will become a by-word and 
 a hissing. Respecterble women, respecterbly connected, will 
 stand aloof and shudder." 
 
 The torrent of words was unchecked except when the 
 wheels struck a stone, jolting her so severely that her jaws 
 came together with a click as if she were snapping at him. 
 
146 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 He made no reply whatever, but longed to get his hands 
 upon Lemuel Weeks. Pushing his horses to a high rate of 
 speed, he soon reached that interested neighbor's door, in- 
 tercepting him just as he was starting to town. 
 
 He looked very gour as he saw his wife's relatives, and 
 demanded harshly, "What does this mean?" 
 
 " It means," cried Mrs. Mumpson, in her high, cackling 
 tones, " that he's said things and done things too awful to 
 speak of, that he's broken his agreement and turned us out 
 of doors." 
 
 "Jim Holcroft," said Mr. Weeks, blustering up to the 
 wagon, "you can't carry on with this high hand. Take these 
 people back to your house where they belong or you'll be 
 sorry.'' 
 
 Holcroft sprung out, whirled Mr. Weeks out of his way, 
 took out the trunk, then with equal expedition and no more 
 ceremony lifted down Mrs. Mumpson and Jane. 
 
 "Do you know what you're about?" shouted Mr. Weeks 
 in a rage. " I'll have the law on you this very day." 
 
 Holcroft maintained his ominous silence as he hitched 
 his horses securely. Then he strode towards Weeks, who 
 backed away from him. " Oh, don't be afraid, you sneaking, 
 cowardly fox," said the farmer, bitterly. "If I gave you 
 your deserts, I'd take my horsewhip to you. You're going 
 to law me, are you ? Well, begin to-day, and I'll be ready 
 for you. I won't demean myself by answering that woman, 
 but I'm ready for you in any way you've a mind to come. 
 I'll put you and your wife on the witness stand. I'll sum- 
 mon cousin Abiram, as you call him, and his wife, and 
 compel you all under oath to give Mrs. "Mumpson a few 
 testimonials. I'll prove the trick you played on me and the 
 lies you told. I'll prove that this woman, in my absence, 
 invaded my room, and with keys of her own opened my 
 dead wife's bureau and pulled out her things. I'll prove 
 
MRS.MUMPSOAT'S VICISSITUDES. 1 47 
 
 that she hasn't earned her salt, and can't, and may prove 
 something more. Now if you want to go to law, begin. 
 Nothing would please me better than to show up you and 
 your tribe. I've offered to pay this woman her three months' 
 wages in full and so have kept my agreement. She has not 
 kept hers, for she's only sat in a rocking-chair and made 
 trouble. Now, do as you please. I'll give you all the law 
 you want. I'd like to add a horse-whipping, but that would 
 give you a case and now you haven't any." ■ 
 
 As Holcroft uttered these words sternly and slowly, hke 
 a man angry indeed but under perfect self-control, the per- 
 spiration broke out on Weeks's face. He was aware that 
 Mrs. Mumpson was too well known to play the role of a 
 wronged woman, and remembered what his testimony and 
 that of many others would be under oath. Therefore, he 
 began, "Oh, well, Mr. Holcroft, there's no need of your 
 getting in such a rage and threatening so. I'm willing to 
 talk the matter over and only want to do the square thing." 
 
 The farmer made a gesture of disgust as he said, " I un- 
 derstand you, Lemuel Weeks. There's no talking needed 
 and I'm in no mood for it. Here's the money I agreed to 
 pay. I'll give it to Mrs. Mumpson when she has signed this 
 paper, and you've signed as witness of her signature. Other- 
 wise, it's law. Now decide quick. I'm in a hurry." 
 
 Objections were interposed, and Holcroft, returning the 
 money to his pocket, started for his team without a word. 
 " Oh, well," said Weeks, in strong irritation, " I haven't time 
 for a lawsuit at this season of the year. You are both cranks, 
 and I suppose it would be best for me and my folks to be rid 
 of you both. It's a pity, though, you couldn't be married 
 and left to fight it out." 
 
 Holcroft took the whip from his wagon and said quietly, 
 " If you speak another insulting word I'll horsewhip you and 
 take my chances." 
 
148 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 Something in the man's look prevented Weeks from utter- 
 ing another unnecessary remark. The business was soon, 
 transacted, accompanied with Mrs. Mumpson's venomous 
 words, for she had discovered that she could stigmatize 
 Holcroft with impunity. He went to Jane and shook her 
 hand as he said good-by. "I am sorry lot you and I won't 
 forget my promise ; " then drove rapidly away. 
 
 " Cousin Lemuel," said Mrs. Mumpson, plaintively, "won't 
 you have Timothy take my trunk to our room? " 
 
 " No, I won't," he snapped. " You've had your chance 
 and have fooled it away. I was just going to town and you 
 and Jane will go along with me," and he put the widow's 
 trunk into his wagon. 
 
 Mrs. Weeks came out and wiped her eyes ostentatiously 
 with her apron as she whispered, " I can't help it, Cynthy. 
 When Lemuel goes off the handle in this way, it's no use 
 for me to say any thing.'' 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson wept hysterically as she was driven away. 
 Jane's sullen and apathetic aspect had passed away in part, 
 for Holcroft's words had kindled-something like hope. 
 
A MOMENTOUS DECISION. 1 49 
 
 •CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A MOMENTOUS DECISION. 
 
 IT must be admitted that Holcroft enjoyed his triumph 
 over Lemuel Weeks very much after the fashion of the 
 aboriginal man. Indeed, he was almost sorry he had not 
 been given a little more provocation, knowing well that had 
 this been true his^neighbor would have received a fuller 
 return for his interested efforts. As he saw his farmhouse 
 in the shimmering April sunlight, as the old churning dog 
 came forward, wagging his tail, the farmer said, " This is 
 the only place which can ever be home to me. Well, well, 
 it's queer about people. Some, when they go, leave you 
 desolate ; others make you happy by their absence. I 
 never dreamed that silly Mumpson could make me happy, 
 but she has. Blessed if I don't feel happy ! The first 
 time in a year or more ! " and he began to whistle old 
 " Coronation " in the most lively fashion as he unharnessed 
 his horses. 
 
 A little later, he prepared himself a good dinner and ate 
 it in leisurely enjoyment, sharing a morsel now and then with 
 the old dog. " You're a plaguey sight better company than 
 she was," he mused. "That poor little stray cat of a Jane ! 
 What will become of her? Well, well, soon as she's old 
 enough to cut loose from her mother I'll try to give her a 
 chance, if it's a possible thing." 
 
 After dinner, he made a rough draught of an auction bill, 
 ofifering his cows for sale, muttering as he did so, "Tom 
 
150 HE FELL TJV LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 Watterly'lfhelp me put it in better shape." Then he drove 
 a mile away to s'ee old Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. The former 
 agreed for a small sum to mount guard with his dog during 
 the farmer's occasional absences, and the latter readily con- 
 sented to do the washing and mending. 
 
 "What do I want of any more 'peculiar females,' as 
 that daft widow called 'em?" he chuckled on his return. 
 " Blamed if she wasn't the most peculiar of the lot. Think 
 of me marrying her ! " and the hillside echoed to his derisive 
 laugh. "As I feel to-day, there's a better chance of my 
 being struck by lightning than marrying, and I don't think 
 any woman could do it in spite of me. I'll run the ranch 
 alone." 
 
 That evening he smoked his pipe cheerfully beside the 
 kitchen fire, the dog sleeping at his feet. "I declare," he 
 said, smilingly, " I feel quite at home." 
 
 In the morning, after attending to his work, he went for 
 old Jonathan Johnson and installed him in charge of the 
 premises ; then drove to the almshouse with all the surplus 
 butter and eggs on hand. Tom Watterly arrived at the 
 door with his fast trotting horse at the same time, and cried, 
 " Hollo, Jim, just in time. I'm a sort of grass widower 
 to-day — been taking my wife out to see her sister. Come 
 in and take pot-luck with me and keep up my spirits." 
 
 "Well, now, Tom," said Holcroft, shaking hands, "I'm 
 glad, not that your wife's away, although it does make me 
 down-hearted to contrast your lot and mine, but I'm glad 
 you can- give me a little time, for I want to use that practical 
 head of yours — some advice, you know." 
 
 "All right. Nothing to do for an hour or two but eat 
 dinner and smoke my pipe with you. — Here, Bill, take this 
 team and feed 'em." 
 
 " Hold on," said Holcroft. " I'm not going to sponge on 
 you. I've got some favors to ask, and I want you to take 
 
A MOMENTOUS DECISION. lt,l 
 
 in return some butter half spoiled in the making and this 
 basket of eggs. They're all right." 
 
 "Go to thunder! Holcroft, what do you take me for? 
 When you'vi filled your pipe after dinner will you pull an 
 egg out of your pocket and say, ' That's for a smoke ' ? 
 No, no, I don't sell any advice to old friends like you. I'll 
 buy your butter and eggs at what they're worth and have 
 done with 'em. Business is one thing, and sitting down and 
 talking over an old crony's troubles is another. I'm not a 
 saint, Jim, as you know, — a man in politics can't be, — but 
 I remember when we were boys together and somehow 
 thinking of those old days always fetches me. Come in, 
 for dinner is a-waiting, I guess." 
 
 " Well, Tom, saint or no saint, I'd like to vote for you^ for 
 gov'nor." *V*^ 
 
 " This ain't an electioneering trick, as you know. I can 
 play them off as well as the next feller when there's need, 
 kiss the babies and all that." 
 
 Dinner was placed on the table immediately, and in a few 
 moments the friends were left alone. Then Holcroft related 
 in a half comic, half serious manner his tribulations with the 
 help. Tom sat back in his chair and roared at the account 
 of the pitched battle between the two widows, and the final 
 smoking out of Mrs. Mumpson, but he reproached his friend 
 for not having horsewhipped Lemuel Weeks. " Don't you 
 remember, Jim, he was a sneaking, tricky chap when we 
 were at school together? I Hcked him once, and it always 
 does me good to think of it." 
 
 " I own it takes considerable to rile me to the point of 
 striking a man, especially on his own land. His wife was 
 looking out the window, too. If we'd been out in the road 
 or anywhere else — but what's the use? I'm glad now it 
 turned out as it has, for I've too much on my mind for law- 
 suits, and the less one has to do with such cattle as Weeks, 
 
152 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 the better. Well, you see I'm alone again, and I'm going 
 to go it alone. I'm going to sell my cows and give up the 
 dairy, and the thing I wanted help in most is the putting 
 this auction bill in shape, also advice as to whether I had 
 better try to sell here in town or up at the farm." 
 
 Tom shook his head dubiously and scarcely glanced at 
 the paper. " Your scheme don't look practical to me," he 
 said. " I don't believe you can run that farm alone without 
 losing money. You'll just keep on going behind till the first 
 thing you know you'll clap a mortgage on it. Then you'll 
 soon be done for. What's more, you'll break down if you 
 try to do both outdoor and indoor work. Busy times will 
 soon come, and you won't get your meals regularly : you'll 
 be living on coffee ^nd any thing that comes handiest ; your 
 house will grow untidy arid not fit to live in. If you should 
 be taken sick, there'd be no one to do for you. Lumber- 
 men, hunters, and such fellows can rough it alone awhile, 
 but I never heard of a farm being run by man-power alone. 
 Now as to selling out your stock, look at it. Grazing is 
 what your farm's good for mostly. It's a pity you're so bent 
 on staying there. Even if you didn't get very much for the 
 place, from sale or rent, you'd have something that was sure. 
 A strong, capable man like you could find something to turn 
 your hand to. Then you could board in some respectable 
 family, and not have to live like Robinson Crusoe. I've 
 thought it over since we talked last, and if I was you I'd 
 sell or rent." 
 
 " It's too late in the season to do either," said Holcroft, 
 dejectedly. " What's more, I don't want to, at least not this 
 year. I've settled that, Tom. I'm going to have one more 
 summer on the old place, any way, if I have to live on bread 
 and milk." 
 
 " You can't make bread." 
 
 " I'll have it brought from town on the stage." 
 
A MOMENTOUS DECISION. 1 53 
 
 " Well, it's a pity some good, decent woman — there ! 
 how should I come to forget all about her till this minute ? 
 I don't know whether it would work. Perhaps it would. 
 There's a woman here out of the common run. She has 
 quite a story which I'll tell you in confidence. Then ypu 
 can say whether you'd like to employ her or not. If you 
 will stay on the farm, my advice is that you have a -woman 
 to do the housework, and me and Angy must try to find you 
 one, if the one I have in mind won't answer. The trouble 
 is, Holcroft, to get the right kind of a woman to live there 
 alone with you, unless you married her. Nice women don't 
 like to be talked about, and I don't blame 'em. The one 
 that's here, though, is so friendless and alone in the world 
 that she might be glad enough to get a home almost any- 
 wheres." 
 
 " Well, well, tell me about her," said Holcroft, gloomily. 
 " But I'm about discouraged in the line of women help." 
 
 Watterly told Alida's story with a certain rude pathos 
 which touched the farmer's naturally kind heart, and he 
 quite forgot his own need in indignation at the poor woman's 
 
 wrongs. " It's a shame ! " he said, excitedly, pacing 
 
 the room. " I say, Tom, all the law in the land wouldn't 
 keep me from giving that fellow a whipping or worse." 
 
 " Well, she won't prosecute ; she won't face the public ; 
 she just wants to go to some quiet place and work for her 
 bread. She don't seem to have any friends, or else she's too 
 ashamed to let them know."" 
 
 " Why, of course I'd give such a woman a refuge till she 
 could do better. What man wouldn't?" 
 
 " A good many wouldn't. What's more, if she went with 
 you her story might get out, and you'd both be talked about." 
 
 " I don't care that for gossip," with a snap of his fingers. 
 " You know I'd treat her with respect." • 
 
 " WhatT know, and what other people would say, are two 
 
154 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 very different things. Neither you nor any one else can go 
 too strongly against public opinion. Still, it's nobody's busi- 
 ness," added Tom, thoughtfully. " Perhaps it's worth the 
 trial. If she went I think she'd stay and do the best by you 
 she could. Would you like to see her? " 
 
 "Yes." :^>^1.' 
 
 Alida was summoned and stood withaowncast eyes in the 
 door. " Come in and take a chair," said Tom, kindly. "You 
 know I promised to be on the lookout for a good place for 
 you. Well, my friend here, Mr. Holcroft, whom I've known 
 ever since I was a boy, wants a woman to do general house- 
 work and take care of the dairy." 
 
 She gave the farmer one of those swift, comprehensive 
 glances by which women take in a personaUty, and said in a 
 tone of regret, " But I don't understand dairy work." 
 
 " Oh, you'd soon learn. It's just the kind of a place you 
 said you wanted, a lonely, out-of-the-way farm and no other 
 help kept. What's more, my friend Holcroft is a kind, hon- 
 est man. He'd treat you right. He knows all about your 
 trouble and is sorry for you." 
 
 If Holcroft had been an ogre in appearance, he wpuld 
 have received the grateful glance which she now gave him as 
 she saidj " I'd be only too glad to work for you, sir, if you 
 think I can do, or learn to do, what is required." 
 
 Holcroft, while his friend was speaking, had studied 
 closely Alida's thin, pale face, and he saw nothing in it not 
 in harmony with the story he had heard. " I am sorry for 
 you," he said, kindly. " I believe you never meant to do 
 wrong and have tried to do right. I will be perfectly hon- 
 est with you. My wife is dead, the help I had has left me, 
 and I live alone in the house. The truth is, too, that I 
 could not afford to keep two in help and there would not be 
 work for them both." 
 
 Alida had learned mijch in her terrible adversity, and had, 
 
A MOMENTOUS DECISION: 155 
 
 moreover, the instincts of a class superior to the position 
 she was asked to take. She bowed low to hide the burning 
 flush that crimsoned her pale cheeks as she faltered, " It may 
 seem strange to you, sirs, that one situated as I am should 
 hesitate, but I have never knowingly done any thing which 
 gave people the right to speak against me. I do not fear 
 work, I would humbly try to do my best, but " — 'she hesi- 
 tated and rose as if to retire. 
 
 " I understand you," said Holcroft, kindly, " and I don't 
 blame you for doing what you think is right." 
 
 " I'm very sOrry, sir," she replied, tears coming into her 
 eyes as she went out of the room. 
 
 " There it is, Holcroft," said Tom. " I believe she's just 
 the one for you, but you can see she isn't of the common 
 kind. She knows as well as you and me how people would 
 talk, especially if her story came out, as like enough it will." 
 
 " Hang people ! " snarled the farmer. 
 
 " Yes, a good lot of 'em deserve hanging, but it wouldn't 
 help you any just now. Perhaps she'd go with you if you 
 got another girl or took an old woman from the house here 
 to keep her company." 
 
 " I'm sick to death of such hags," said the farmer, with 
 an impatient gesture. Then he sat down and looked at his 
 friend as if a plan was forming in his mind of which he 
 scarcely dare speak. 
 
 "Well, out with it," said Tom. 
 
 " Have you ever seen a marriage ceremony performed by 
 a justice of the peace? " Holcroft asked, slowly. 
 
 " No, but they do it often enough. What ! are you going 
 to offer her marriage ? " 
 
 " You say she is homeless and friendless ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And you believe she is just what she seems — just what 
 her story shows her to be ? " 
 
IS6 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Yes. I've seen too many frauds to be taken in. She 
 isn't a fraud. Neither does she belong to that miserable, 
 wishy-washy, downhill class that sooner or later fetches up 
 in a poor-house. They say we're all made of dust, but some 
 seem made of mud. You could see she was out of 'the 
 common;. and she's here on account of the wrong she re- 
 ceived and not the wrong she did. I say all this in fairness 
 to her ; but when it comes to marrying her, that's another 
 question." 
 
 " Tom, as I've told you, I don't want to marry. In fact, 
 I couldn't go before a minister and promise what I'd have 
 to. But I could do something like this. I could give this 
 woman an honest name and a home. It would be marriage 
 before the law. No one could ever say a word against either 
 of us. I would be true and kind to her and she should share 
 in my fortunes. That's all. You have often advised me to 
 marry, and you know if I did it couldn't be any thing else 
 but a business affair. Thpn it ought to be done in a busi- 
 ness-like way. You say I can't get along alone, and like 
 enough you're right. I've learned more from this woman's 
 manner than I have in a year, why I can't get and keep the 
 right kind of help, and I now feel if I could find a good, 
 honest woman who would make my interests hers, and help 
 me make a living in my own home, I'd give her my name 
 and all the security which an honest name conveys. Now, 
 this poor woman is in sore need and she might be grateful 
 for what I can do, while any other woman would naturally 
 expect me to promise more than I honestly can. Anyhow, 
 I'd have to go through the form, and I can't and won't go 
 and say sacred words — just about what I said when I mar- 
 ried my wife — and know all the time I was lying." 
 
 " Well, Holcroft, you're a queer dick and this is a queer 
 plan of yours. You're beyond my depth now and I can't 
 advise." 
 
A MOMENTOUS DECISION. 1 5/ 
 
 "Why is it a queer plan? Things only seem odd because 
 they are not common. As a matter of fact, you advise a 
 business marriage. When I try to follow your advice hon- 
 estly and not dishonestly you say I'm queer." 
 
 " I suppose if everybody became honest, it would be the 
 queerest world ever known," said Tom, laughing. "Well, 
 you might do worse than marry this woman. I' can tell you 
 that marrying is risky business at best. You know a justice 
 will tie you just as tight "as a minister, and while I've given 
 you my impressions about this woman, I know little about 
 her and you know next to nothing." 
 
 " I guess that would be the case, anyhow. If you set out 
 to find a wife for me, where is there a woman that you 
 actually do know more about ? As for my going here and 
 there, to get acquainted, it's out of the question. All my 
 feelings rise up against such a, course. Now, I feel sorry 
 for this woman. She has at least my sympathy. If she is 
 as friendless, poor and unhappy as she seems, I might do 
 her as great a kindness as she would do for me if she could 
 take care of my home. I wouldn't expect very much. It 
 would be a comfort just to have some one in the house that 
 wouldn't rob or waste, and who, knowing what her station 
 was, would be content. Of course I'd have to talk it over 
 with her and make my purpose clear. She might agree with 
 you that it's too queer to be thought of. If so, that would 
 be the end of it." 
 
 " Well, Jim, you always finish by half talking me over to 
 your side of a question. Now, if my wife was home, I don't 
 believe she'd listen to any such plan." 
 
 " No, I supppse she wouldn't. She'd believe in people 
 marrying arid doing every thing in the ordinary way. But 
 neither I nor this woman is in ordinary circumstances. Do 
 you know of a justice ? " 
 
 " Yes,, and you know him, too ; Justice Harkins." 
 
IS8 HE FELL lA^ LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Why certainly. He came from our town and I knew 
 him when he was a boy, although I haven't seen much of 
 him of late years." 
 
 " Well, shall I go and say to this woman — Alida Arm- 
 strong, is her name now, I suppose — that you wish to see 
 her again ? " 
 
 " Yes, I shall tell her the truth. Then she can decide." 
 
HOLCKOFT GIVES HIS HAND. 1 59 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOLCROrr GIVES HIS HAND. 
 
 ALIDA was seated by a window with some of the mend- 
 ing in which she assisted, and, as usual, was apart by 
 herself. Watterly entered the large apartment quietly, and 
 at first she did not observe him. He had time to note that 
 she was greatly dejected, and when she saw him she hastily 
 wiped tears from her eyes. 
 
 "You are a good deal cast down, Alida," he said, watch- 
 ing her closely. 
 
 " I've reason to be. I don't see any light ahead at all." 
 
 " Well, you know the old saying, ' It's darkest before day.' 
 I want you to come with me again. I think I've found a 
 chance for you." 
 
 She arose with alacrity and followed. As soon as they 
 were alone, he turned and looked her squarely in the face 
 as he said, gravely, ". You have good common-sense, haven't 
 you?" 
 
 " I don't know, sir," she faltered, perplexed and troubled 
 by the question. 
 
 "Well, you can understand this much, I suppose. As 
 superintendent of this house I have a responsible position 
 which I could easily lose if I allowed myself to be mixed up 
 with any thing wrong or improper. To come right to the 
 point, you don't know much about me and next to nothing 
 of my friend Holcroft, but can't you see that even if I 
 was a heartless, good-for-nothing fellow, it wouldn't be wise 
 
l6o HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 or safe for me to permit any thing that wouldn't bear the 
 light?" 
 
 " I think you are an honest man, sir. It would be strange 
 if I did not have confidence when you have judged me and 
 treated me so kindly. But, Mr. Watterly, although helpless 
 and friendless, I must try to do what I think is best. If I 
 accepted Mr. Holcroft's position it might do him harm. 
 You know how quick the world is to misjudge. It would 
 seem to confirm every thing that has been said against me," 
 and the same painful flush again overspread her features. 
 
 " Well, AUda, all that you have to do is to listen patiently 
 to my friend. Whether you agree with his views or not, you 
 will see that he is a good-hearted, honest man. I want to 
 prepare you for this talk by assuring you that I've known 
 him since he was a boy, that he has lived all his life in this 
 region and is known by many others, and that I wouldn't 
 dare let him ask^you to do any thing wrong, even if I was 
 bad enough." 
 
 " I'm sure, sir, you don't wish me any harm," she again 
 faltered in deep perplexity. 
 
 "Indeed I don't. I don't advise my friend's course; 
 neither do I oppose it. He's certainly old enough to act 
 for himself. I suppose I'm a rough counsellor for a young 
 woman, but since you appear to have so few friends I'm 
 inchned to act as one. Just you stand on the question of 
 right and wrong, and dismiss from your mind all foolish no- 
 tions of what people will say. As a rule, all the people in the 
 world can't do as much for us as somebody in particular. 
 Now you go in the parlor and listen like a sensible woman. 
 I'll be reading the paper, and the girl will be clearing off the 
 table in the next room here.'' 
 
 Puzzled and trembling, Alida entered the apartment where 
 Holcroft was seated. She was so embarrassed that she could 
 not lift her eyes to him. 
 
HOLCROFT GIVES HIS HAND. l6l 
 
 " Please sit down," he said, gravely, " and don't be troubled, 
 much less frightened, you are just as free to act as ever you 
 were in your hfe." 
 
 She sat down near the door, and compelled herself to look 
 at him, for she felt instinctively that she might gather more 
 from the expression of his face than from his words. 
 
 " Alida Armstrong is your name, Mr. Watterly tells me ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well, Alida, I want to have a plain business talk with 
 you. That's nothing to be nervous and worried about, you 
 know. As I told you, I've heard your story. It has made 
 me sorry for you instead of setting me against you. It has 
 made me respect you as a right-minded woman, and I shall 
 give you good proof that my words are true. At the same 
 time, I sha'n't make any false pretences to what isn't true 
 and couldn't be true. Since I've heard your story, it's only 
 fair you should hear mine, and I ought to tell it first. 
 
 He went over the past very briefly until he came to the 
 death of his wife. There was simple and homely pathos in 
 the few sentences with which he referred to this event. 
 Then more fully he enlarged upon his efforts and failure to 
 keep house with hired help. Unconsciously, he had taken 
 the best jiiethod to enlist her sympa;thy. The secluded cot- 
 tage and hillside farm became realities to her fancy. She saw 
 how the man's heart clung to his home, and his effort to 
 keep it touched her deeply. 
 
 " Oh," she thought, " I do wish there was some way for 
 me to go there. The loneliness of the place which drove 
 others away is the chief attraction for me. Then it would be 
 pleasant to work for such a man and make his home com- 
 fortable for him. It's plain from his words and looks that 
 he's as honest and straightforward as the day is long. He 
 only wants to keep his home and make his living in peace." 
 
 As he had talked, her nervous embarrassment passed away, 
 
1 62 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 and the deep sense of her own need was pressing upon her 
 again. She saw that he also was in great need. His busi- 
 ness talk was revealing deep trouble and perplexity. With 
 the quick intuitions of a woman, her mind went far beyond 
 his brief sentences, and saw all the difficulties of his lot. 
 His feeling reference to the loss of his wife proved that he 
 was not a coarse-natured man. As he spoke so plainly of 
 his life during the past year, her mind was insensibly ab- 
 stracted from every thing but his want and hers, and she 
 thought his farmhouse afforded just the secluded refuge she 
 craved. As he drew near the end of his story, and hesitated 
 in visible embarrassment, she mustered courage to say, tim- 
 idly, "Would you permit a suggestion from me?" 
 
 "Why certainly." 
 
 " You have said, sir, that your business aiid means would 
 not allow you to keep two in help, and as you have been 
 .speaking I have tried to think of some way. TJie fact that 
 your house is so lonely is just the reason why I should like 
 to work in it. As you can understand, I have no wish to 
 meet strangers. Now, sir, I am willing to work for very little ; 
 I should be glad to find such a quiet refuge for simply my 
 board and clothes, and I would do my very best and try to 
 learn what I did not know. It seems to me that if I worked 
 for so little you might think you could afford to hire some 
 elderly woman also?" and she looked at him in the eager 
 hope that he would accept her proposition. 
 
 He shook his head as he replied, " I don't know of any 
 such person. I took the best one in this house, and you 
 know how she turned out." - 
 
 " Perhaps Mr. Watterly may know of some one else," she 
 faltered. She was now deeply troubled and perplexed again, 
 supposing that he was about to renew his first proposition 
 that she should be his only help. 
 
 " If Mr. Watterly did know of any one I would make the 
 
HOLCROFT GIVES HIS HAND. 1 63 
 
 trial, but he does not. Your offer is very considerate and 
 reasonable, but " — and he hesitated again, scarcely knowing 
 how to go on. 
 
 " I am sorry, sir," she said, rising, as if to end the inter- 
 view. 
 
 " Stay," he said, " you do not understand me yet. Of 
 course I should not make you the same offer that I did at 
 first, after seeing your feehng about it, and I respect you all 
 the more because you so respect yourself. What I had in 
 mind was to give you my name, and it's an honest name. If 
 we were married, it would be perfectly proper for you to go 
 with me, and no one could say a word against either of us." 
 
 " Oh ! " she gasped, in strong agitation andsurprise. 
 
 " Now don't be so taken aback. It's just as easy for you 
 to refuse as it is to speak, but listen first. What seems 
 strange and unexpected may be the most sensible thing for 
 us both. You have your side of the case to think of just as 
 truly as I have mine ; and I'm not forgetting, and I don't 
 ask you to forget, that I'm still talking business. You and I 
 have both been through too much trouble and loss to say any 
 silly nonsense to each other. You've heard my story, yet 
 I'm almost a stranger to you as you are to me. We'd both 
 have to take considerable on trust. Yet I know I'm honest 
 and well-meaning, and I believe you are. Now look at it. 
 Here we are, both much alone in the world — both wishing 
 to live a retired, quiet life. I don't care a rap for what peo- 
 ple say as long as I'm doing right, and in this case they'd 
 have nothing to say. It's our own business. I don't see as 
 people will ever do much for you, and a good many would 
 impose on you and expect you to work beyond your strength. 
 They might not be very kind or considerate, either. I sup- 
 pose you've thought of this? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied with bowed head. " I should meet 
 coldness, probably harshness and scorn." 
 
1 64 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 "Well, you'd never meet any thing of the kind in my 
 house. I would treat you with respect and kindness. At 
 the same time, I'm not going to mislead you by a word. 
 You shall have a chance to decide in view of the whole truth. 
 My friend, Mr. Watterly, has asked me more'n once, ' Why 
 don't you marry again ? ' I told him I had been married 
 once, and that I couldn't go before a minister and promise 
 the same things over again when they wasn't true. I can't 
 make to you any promises or say any words that are not true, 
 and I don't ask or expect you to do what I can't do. But 
 it has seemed to me that our condition was out of the com- 
 mon lof — that we could take each other for just what we 
 might be to each other and no more. You would be my 
 wife in name, and I do not ask you to be my wife in more 
 than name. You would thus secure a good home and the 
 care and protection of one who would be kind to you, and 
 I would secure a housekeeper — one that would stay 
 with me and make my interests hers. It would be a fair, 
 square arrangement between ourselves and nobody else's 
 business. By taking this course, we don't do any wrong to 
 our feelings or have to say or promise any thing that isn't 
 true." 
 
 " Yet I can't help saying, sir," she replied, in strong, yet 
 repressed agitation, " that your words sound very strange ; 
 and it seems stranger still that you can offer marriage of any 
 kind to a woman situated as I am. You know my story, 
 sir," she added, crimsoning, " and all may soon know it. 
 You would suffer wrong and injury." 
 
 " I offer you open and honorable marriage before the 
 world, and no other kind. Mr. Watterly and others — as 
 many as you pleased — would witness it, and I'd have you 
 given a certificate at once. As for your story, it has only 
 awakened my sympathy. You have not meant to do any 
 wrong. Your troubles are only another reason in my mind 
 
HOLCROFT GIVES HIS HAND. 165 
 
 for not taking any advantage of you or deceiving you in the 
 least. Look the truth squarely in the face. I'm bent on 
 keeping my house and getting my living as I have done, and 
 I need a housekeeper that vi^ill be true to all my interests. 
 Think how I've been robbed and wronged, and what a dog's 
 life I've lived in my own home. You need a home, a sup- 
 port and a protector. I couldn't come to you or go to any 
 other woman and say honestly more than this. Isn't it 
 better for people to be united on the ground of truth than to 
 begin by telling a pack of lies? " 
 
 " But — but can people be married with such an under- 
 standing by a minister? Wouldn't it be deceiving him? " 
 
 " I shall not ask you to deceive any one. Any marriage 
 that either you or I could now make would be practically a 
 business marriage. I should therefore take you, if you were 
 wiUing, to a justice and have a legal or civil marriage per- 
 formed, and this would be just as binding as any other in 
 the eye of the law. It is often done. This would be much 
 better to my mind, than if people, situated as we are, went 
 to a church or a minister." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I couldn't do that." 
 
 " Well, now, Alida," he said, with a smile that wonderfully 
 softened his rugged features, " you are free to decide. It 
 may seem to you a strange sort of courtship, but we are 
 both too old for much foolishness. I never was sentimental, 
 and it would be ridiculous to begin now. I'm full of trouble 
 and perplexity, and so are you. Are you willing to be my 
 wife so far as an honest name goes, and help me "make a 
 living for us both ? That's all I ask. I, in my turn, would 
 promise to treat you with kindness and respect, and give 
 you a home as long as I lived and to leave you all I have in 
 the world if I died. "That's all I could promise. I'm a 
 lonely, quiet man, and like to be by myself I wouldn't be 
 much society for you. I've said more to-day than I might 
 
1 66 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 in a month, for I felt that it was due to you to know just 
 what you were doing." 
 
 " Oh, sir," said Alida, trembling, and with tears in her 
 eyes, " you do not ask much and you offer a great deal. If 
 you, a strong man, dread to leave your home and go out 
 into the world you, know not where, think how terrible it is 
 for a weak, friendless woman to be worse than homeless; I 
 have lost every thing, even my good name." 
 
 " No, no, not in my eyes." 
 
 "Oh, I know, I know," she cried, wringing her hands. 
 " Even these miserable paupers like myself have made me 
 feel ir. They have burned the truth into my brain and 
 heart. Indeed, sir, you do not realize what you are doing 
 or asking. It is not fit or meet that I should bear your 
 name'. You might be sorry, indeed." 
 
 " Alida," said Holcroft, gravely, " I've not forgotten your 
 story, and you shouldn't forget mine. Be sensible now. 
 Don't I look old enough to know what I'm about. 
 
 " Oh, oh, oh," she cried, impetuously, " if I were only 
 sura it was right ! It may be business to you, but it seems 
 like hfe or death to me. It's more than death— ^I don't 
 fear that — but I do fear life, I do fear the desperate struggle 
 just to maintain a bare, dreary existence. I do dread going 
 out among strangers and seeing their cold curiosity and their 
 scorn. You can't understand a woman's heart. It isn't 
 right for me to die till God takes me, but life has seemed so 
 horrible, meeting suspicion on one side and cruel significant 
 ^ooks of knowledge on the other. I've been tortured even 
 here by these wretched' hags, and I've envied even them, so 
 near to death, yet not shamed like me. I know, and you 
 should know, that my heart is broken, crushed, trampled into 
 the mire. I had felt that for me even the thought of mar- 
 riage again would be a mockery, a wicked thing, which I 
 would never have a right to entertain. I never dreamt that 
 
HOLCROFT GIVES HIS HAND. 167 
 
 an)'' one would think of such a thing, knowing what you 
 know. Oh, oh, why have you tempted me so if it is not 
 right? I must do right. The feehng that I've not meant 
 to do wrong is all that has kept me from despair. But can 
 it be right to let you take me from the street, the poor- 
 house, with nothing to give but a blighted name, a broken 
 heart and feeble hands ! See, I am but the shadow of what 
 I was and a dark shadow at that. I could be only a dismal 
 shadow at any man's hearth. Olv, oh, I've thought and 
 suffered until my reason seemed going. You don't realize, 
 you don't know the depths into which I've fallen. It can't 
 be right." 
 
 Holcroft was almost appalled at this passionate outburst 
 in one who thus far had been sad, indeed, yet self-controlled. 
 He looked at her in mingled pity and consternation. His 
 own troubles had seemed heavy enough, but he now caught 
 glimpses of something far beyond trouble, of agony, of mortal 
 dread that bordered on despair. He could scarcely com- 
 prehend how terrible to a woman like Alida were the recent 
 events of her life, and how circumstances, with illness, had 
 all tended to create a morbid horror of her situation. Like 
 himself, she was naturally reticent in regard to her deeper 
 feelings, patiejit and undemonstrative. Had not his words 
 evoked this outburst she might have suffered and died in 
 silence, but in this final conflict between conscience and 
 hope, the hot lava of her heart had broken forth. So little 
 was he then able to understand her, that suspicions crossed 
 his mind. Perhaps his friend Watterly had not heard the 
 true story or else not the whole story. But his straightfor- 
 ward simplicity stood him in good stead, and he said, gently, 
 "Alida, you say I don't know, I don't reahze. I believe 
 you will tell me the truth. You went to a minister and was 
 married to a man that you thought you had a right to 
 marry " — 
 
l68 HE FELL IN LOl'E WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " You shall know it all from my own lips," she said, inter- 
 rupting him ; " you have a right to know ; and then you 
 will see that it cannot be," and with bowed head, and low, 
 rapid, passionate utterance, she poured out her story. " That 
 woman, his wife," she concluded, " made me feel that I was 
 of the scum and offscouring of the earth, and they've made 
 me feel so here, too, — even these wretched paupers. So 
 the world will look on me till God takes me to my mother. 
 Oh, thank God! she don't know. Don't you see, now?" 
 she asked, raising her despairing eyes, from which agony 
 had dried all tears. " Yes, I see you do," she added, des- 
 perately, " for even yoii have turned from me." 
 
 " Confound it ! " cried Holcroft, standing up and searching 
 his pockets for a handkerchief, "I — I — I'd like — like to 
 choke that fellow. If I could get my hands on him, there'd 
 be trouble. Turn away from you, you poor wronged creature ! 
 Don't you see I'm so sorry for you that I'm making a .fool 
 of myself? I, who couldn't shed a tear over my own troubles 
 — there, there — come now, let us be sensible. Let's get 
 back to business, for I can't stand this kind of thing at all. 
 I'm so confused betwixt rage at him and pity for you — Let 
 me see ; this is where we were ; I want some one to take 
 care of my home, and you want a home. That's all there 
 is about it now. If you say so, I'll make you Mrs. Holcroft 
 in an hour." 
 
 " I did not mean to work upon your sympathies, only to 
 tell you the truth. God bless you, that the impulses of your 
 heart are so kind and merciful. But let me be true to you 
 as well as to myself. Go away and think it all over calmly 
 and quietly. Even for the sake of being rescued from a life 
 that I dread far more than death, I cannot let you do that 
 which you may regret unspeakably. Do not think I misun- 
 derstand your offer. It's the only one I could think of, and 
 I would not have thought of it if you had not spoken. I 
 
HOLCROFT GIVES HIS HAND. 169 
 
 have no heart to give. I could be a wife only in name, but 
 I could work like a slave for protection from a cruel, jeering 
 world ; I could hope for something like peace and respite 
 from suffering if I only had a safe refuge. But I must not 
 have these if it is not right and best. Good to me must 
 not come through wrong to you." 
 
 "Tush ! tush ! you mustn't talk so. I can't stand it at all. 
 I've heard your story. It's just as I supposed at first, only/a 
 great deal more so. Why, of course it's all right. It makes 
 me believe in Providence, it all turns out so entirely for our 
 mutual good. I can do as much to help you as you to help 
 me. Now let's get back on the sensible, solid ground from 
 which we started. "The idea of my wanting you to work like 
 a slave ! Like enough, some people would, and then you'd 
 soon break down and be brought back here again. No, no, 
 I've explained just what I wish and just what I mean. You 
 must get over the notion that I'm a sentimental fool, carried 
 away by my feelings. How Tom Watterly would laugh at 
 the idea ! My mind is made up now just as much as it 
 would be a week hence. This is no place for you, and I 
 don't like to think of your being here. My spring work is 
 pressing, too. Don't you see that by doing what I ask you 
 can set me right on my feet and start me uphill again after 
 a year of miserable downhill work ? You have only to agree 
 to what I've said, and you will be at home to-night and I'll 
 be quietly at my work to-morrow. Mr. Watterly will go 
 with us to the justice who, has known me all my life. Then, 
 if any one ever says a word against you he'll have me to 
 settle with. Come, Alida, here's a strong hand that's able 
 to take care of you." 
 
 She hesitated a moment, then clasped it like one who is 
 sinking, and before he divined her purpose, she kissed and 
 bedewed it with tears. 
 
I/O HE FELL IN. LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A BUSINESS MARRIAGE. 
 
 WHILE Holcroft's sympathies had been deeply touched 
 by the intense emotion of gratitude which had over- 
 powered AHda, he had also been disturbed and rendered 
 somewhat anxious. He was actually troubled lest the 
 woman he was about to marry should speedily begin to love 
 him, and develop a tendency to manifest her affection in a 
 manner that would seem to him extravagant and certainly 
 disagreeable. Accustomed all his life to repress his feelings, 
 he wondered at himself and could not understand how he 
 had given way so unexpectedly. He was not sufficiently 
 versed in human nature to know that the depth of Alida's 
 distress was the adequate cause. If there had been a false 
 or an affected word, he would have remained cool enough. 
 In his inability to gauge his own nature as well as hers, he 
 feared lest this business-like marriage was verging toward 
 sentiment on her part. He did not like her kissing his 
 hand. He was profoundly sorry for her, but so he would 
 have been for any other woman suffering under the burden 
 of a great wrong. He felt that it would be embarrassing if 
 she entertained sentiments towards him which he could not 
 reciprocate, and open manifestations of regard would remind 
 him of that horror of his life, Mrs. Mumpson. He was not 
 incapable of quick, strong sympathy in any instance of genu- 
 ine trouble, but he was one of those men who would shrink 
 in natural recoil from any marked evidence of a woman's 
 
A BUSINESS MARRIAGE. 171 
 
 preference unless the counterpart of her regard existed in 
 his own breast. 
 
 To a woman of Ahda's intuition the way in which he with- 
 drew his hand and the expression of his face had a world 
 of meaning. She would not need a second hint. Yet she 
 did not misjudge him ; she knew that he meant what he had 
 said and had said all that he meant. She was also aware 
 that he had not and never could understand the depths of 
 fear and suffering from which his hand was lifting her. Her 
 gratitude was akin to that of a lost soul saved, and that was 
 all she had involuntarily expressed. She sat down again and 
 quietly dried her eyes, while in her heart she purposed to 
 show her gratitude by patient assiduity in learning to do 
 what he requked. 
 
 Holcroft was now bent upon carrying out his plan as 
 quickly as possible and returning home. He therefore asked, 
 " Can you go with me at once, Alida? " 
 
 She simply bowed her acquiescence. 
 
 " That's sensible. Perhaps you had better get your things 
 ready while I and Mr. Watterly go and arrange with Justice 
 Harkins." * 
 
 Alida averted, her face with a sort of shame which a 
 woman feels who admits such a truth. " I haven't any thing, 
 sir, but a hat and cloak to put on. I came away and left 
 every thing." 
 
 " And I'm glad of it," said Holcroft, heartily. " I wouldn't 
 want you to bring any thing which that scoundrel gave you." 
 He paced the room thoughtfully a moment or two and then 
 called Watterly in. " It's settled, Tom. AKda will be Mrs. 
 Holcroft as soon as we can see the justice. Do you think 
 we could persuade him to come here?" 
 
 "One thing at a time. — Mrs. Holcroft, — I may as well 
 call you so, for when my friend says he'll do a thing he does 
 it, — I congratulate you. I think you are well out of your 
 
172 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 troubles. Since you are to marry my old friend, we must 
 be friends, too," and he shook her heartily by the hand. 
 
 His words and manner were another ray of light — a wel- 
 come rift in the black pall that had gathered round her. 
 
 "You were the first friend I found, sir, after — after what 
 happened," she said, gratefully. 
 
 " Well, you've found another and a better one ; and he'll 
 always be just the same. Any woman might be glad " — 
 
 " Come, Tom, no more of that. I'm a plain old farmer" 
 that does what he agrees, and that's all there is about it. I've 
 told Alida just what I wished and could do " — 
 
 " I should hope so," interrupted Watterly, laughing. 
 "You've taken time enough, certainly, and I guess you've 
 talked more than you have before in a year." 
 
 " Yes, I know I'm almost as bad as an oyster about talk- 
 ing except when I'm with you. Somehow, we've always had 
 a good deal to say to each other. In this case, I felt that 
 it was due to Alida that she should know all about me and 
 understand fully just how I felt concerning this marriage. 
 The very fact that she hasn't friends to advise her made it 
 all the more needful that I should be plain and not mislead 
 her in any respect. She has just as good a right to judge 
 and act for herself as any woman in the land, and she takes 
 me and I take her with no sentimental lies to start with. 
 Now let's get back to business. I rather think, since Har- 
 kins was an old acquaintance of mine, he'll come up here 
 and marry us, don't you ? — Alida, wouldn't you rather be 
 married here quietly than face a lot of strangers ? You can 
 have your own way. I don't care now if half the town was 
 present." 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed, sir. I don't want to meet strangers — 
 and — and — I'm not very strong yet. I thank you for con- 
 sidering my feelings so kindly." 
 
 "Why, that's my daty," replied the farmer. "Come, 
 
A BUSINESS MARRIAGE. 1 73 
 
 Watterly, the sun is getting low, and we've considerable to 
 do yet before we start home." 
 
 "I'm with you. — Now, Alida, you go back quietly and 
 act as if nothing had happened till I send for yori. Of course 
 this impatient young groom will hurry back with the justice 
 as fast as possible. Still, we may not find him, or he may 
 be so busy that we shall have to come back for you and 
 take you to his office." 
 
 As she turned to leave the room, Holcroft gave her his 
 hand and said, kindly, " Now don't you be nervous or wor- 
 ried. I see you are not strong, and you shall not be taxed 
 any more than I can help. Good-by for a little while." 
 
 Meantime, Watterly stepped out a moment and gave his 
 domestic a few orders; then he accompanied Holcroft to 
 the barn and the horses were soon attached to the market- 
 wagon. "You're in for it now, Jim, sure enough,'' he said, 
 laughing. " What will Angy say to it all ? " 
 
 " Tell her that I say you've been a mighty good friend to 
 me, yet I hope I may never return any favors of the same 
 kind." 
 
 " By jocks ! I hope not. I guess it's just as well she was 
 away. She'll think we've acted just like two harum-scarum 
 men, and will be awfully scandalized over your marrying this 
 woman. Don't you feel a little nervous about it? " 
 
 " No ! when my mind's made up, I don't worry. Nobody 
 else need lie awake, for it's my affair." ' 
 
 " Well, Jim, you know how I feel about it, but I've got to 
 say something and I might as well say it plain." 
 
 " That's the only way you ought to say it." 
 
 " Well, you talked long enough to give me plenty of time 
 to think. One thing is clear, Angy won't take to this mar- 
 riage. You know I'd like to have you both come in and 
 take a meal as you always have done, but then a man must 
 keep peace with his wife, and " — 
 
i74 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS. WIFE. 
 
 " I understand, Tom. We won't come till Mrs. Watterly 
 asks us.'' 
 
 " But you won't have hard feelings? " 
 
 " No, indeed. Ain't you doing your level best as a friend ?" 
 
 "Well, you know women are so set about these things, 
 and Angy is rather hard on people who don't come up to 
 her rnark of respectability. What's more, I suppose you'll 
 find that others will think and act as she does. If you cared 
 about people's opinions I should have been dead against 
 it, but as you feel and are situated, I'm hanged if I don't 
 think she's just the one." 
 
 " If it hadn't been this one, I don't believe it would have 
 been any one. Here we are," and he tied his horses before 
 the office of the justice. 
 
 Mr. Harkins greeted Holcroft with a sort of patronizing 
 cordiality and was good enough to remember that they had 
 been at the little country schoolhouse -together. In Watterly 
 he heartily recognized a brother politician who controlled a 
 goodly number of votes. 
 
 When Holcroft briefly made known his errand, the justice 
 gave a great guffaw of laughter and said, " Oh, bring her 
 here, and I'll invite in some of the boys as witnesses." 
 
 " I'm not afraid of all the witnesses that you could crowd 
 into a ten-acre lot," said Holcroft, somewhat sternly, " but 
 there is no occasion to invite the boys, whoever they are, or 
 any one else. She doesn't want to be stared at. I was in 
 hopes, Mr. Harkins, that you'd ride up to the almshouse 
 with us and quietly marry us there.'* 
 
 " Well, I guess you'd better bring her here. I'm pretty 
 busy this afternoon, and " — 
 
 ^'See here, Beii," said Watterly, taking the justice aside, 
 " Holcroft is my friend, and you know I'm mighty thick 
 with my friends. They count more with me than my wife's 
 relations. Now I want you to do what Holcroft wishes, as 
 
A BUSINESS MARRIAGE. 1?^ 
 
 a personal favor to me, and the time will come when I can 
 make it up to you." 
 
 " Oh, certainly, Watterly. I didn't understand," replied 
 Harkins, who looked upon Holcroft as a close, and as he 
 would phrase it, no-account farmer, from whom he could 
 never expect even a vote. " I'll go with you at once. It's 
 but a short job." 
 
 "Well," said Holcroft, " how short can you make it? " 
 
 " Let me get my book," and he took from a shelf the 
 "Justice's Assistant." "You can't want any thing shorter 
 than this?" and he read, ' By this act of joining hands you 
 do take each other as husband and wife and solemnly engage 
 in the presence of these witnesses to love and honor and 
 comfort and cherish each other as such so long as you both 
 shall live. Therefore, in accordance with the law of the 
 State of New York I do hereby pronounce yofl husband and 
 wife.' A sailor couldn't tie a knot quicker than that.'" 
 
 " I guess you can, justice," said Holcroft, taking the' 
 book. "Suppose you only read this much. 'By this act 
 of joining hands you do take each other as husband and wife. 
 Therefore, in accordance with the law,' etc. Would that be 
 a legal marriage ? " 
 
 " Certainly. You'd have to go to a divorce court to get 
 out of that." 
 
 " It's my purpose to keep out of courts of all kinds. I'll 
 thank you to read just that much and no more. I don't 
 want to say any thing that isn't exactly true." 
 
 "You 'see how it is, Ben. Holcroft hasn't known the 
 woman long, and she's a nice woman, too, if she is boarding 
 at my hotel." Holcroft needs a wife — must have one, in 
 fact, to help run his house and dairy. It wasn't exactly a 
 love match, you know, and he's that kind of a mart that 
 a yoke of oxen couldn't draw a word out of him that he 
 didn't mean." 
 
176 HE FELL TN^ LOVE WITH HIS, WIFE. 
 
 "Yes, yes, I see now," said Harkins. " I'll read just what 
 you say and no more." 
 
 " And I'll have a little spread that we can be longer at 
 than the ceremony," added Watterly, who was inclined to 
 be a little hilarious over the affair. 
 
 Holcroft, however, maintained his grave manner, and 
 when they reached the almshouse he took Watterly aside 
 and said, " See here, Tom, you've been a good friend to-day 
 and seconded me in every thing. Now let the affair pass 
 off just as quietly and seriously as possible. She's too cast 
 down for a gay wedding. Suppose we had a daughter who'd 
 been through such an experience — a nice, good, modest 
 girl. Her heart's too sore for fun and jokes. My marrying 
 her is much the same as pulling her out of deep water in 
 which she was sinking." 
 
 " You're right, Jim. I didn't think, and one doesn't have 
 much cause-to be so sparing of the feelings of such creatures 
 as come here. But she's out of the common run, and I 
 ought to have remembered it. By jocks ! You're mighty 
 careful about promising to love, cherish and obey, and all 
 that, but I guess you'll do a sight more than many who do 
 promise." 
 
 " Of course I'm going to be kind. That's my duty. 
 Give Harkins a hint. Tell him that she's lost her mother. 
 He needn't know wheii tlie old lady died, but it will kind 
 of solemnize him." 
 
 Watterly did as requested, and Harkins, now convinced 
 that his political interests could be furthered by careful 
 compliance with all' requirements, put on a grave, official 
 air and was ready for business. 
 
 Alida was sent for. She was too agitated to say farewell 
 to any of the poor creatures with whom she had been com- 
 pelled to associate — even to the few who, though scarcely 
 sane, had manifested tenderness and affection. She had 
 
A BUSINESS MARK/AGE. 1 77 
 
 felt that she must reserve all her strength for the coming 
 ordeal, which she both welcomed and feared inexpressibly. 
 She knew how critical was the step she was taking and how 
 much depended on it, yet the more she thought, the more 
 it seemed to her as if Providence had, as by a miracle, given 
 her a refuge. Holcroft's business-like view of the marriage 
 comforted her greatly, and she asked God to give her health 
 and strength to work faitlrfuUy for him many years. 
 
 But she had sad misgivings as she followed the messenger, 
 for she felt so weak that she could scarcely walk. It was 
 indeed a pallid, sorrowful, trembling bride that entered Mr. 
 Watterly's parlor. Holcroft met her and taking her hand, 
 said, kindly, " Courage. It will be over in a minute." 
 
 She was so^pale and agitated that the justice asked, " Do 
 you enter into this marriage freely and without compulsion 
 of any kind?" 
 
 " Please let ine sit down a moment," she faltered, and 
 Watterly hastened to give her a chair. She fixed her eyes 
 on Holcroft and said, anxiously, " You see, sir, how weak I 
 am. I have been sick and — and I fear I am far from being 
 well now. I fear you will be disappointed — that it is not 
 right to you, and that I may not be able " — 
 
 " Alida," interrupted Holcroft, gravely, " I'm not one to 
 break my word. Home and quiet will soon restore you. 
 Answer the justice and tell him tlie exact truth." 
 
 No elixir could have brought hope and courage like that 
 word " home." She rose at once and said to Harkins, " I 
 have consented to Mr. Holcroft's wishes with feelings of the 
 deepest gratitude." 
 
 " Very welL Join hands." 
 
 She hesitated and looked for a moment at Holcroft with 
 strange intensity. 
 
 " It's all right, Alida," he said with a smile. "Come." 
 
 His perfect honesty and steadfastness of purpose stood 
 
 A 
 
178 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 him in good stead' then, for she came at once to his side 
 and took his hand. 
 
 Justice Harkins solemnly opened his big book and read, 
 "''By this act of joining hands you do take each other as 
 husband and wife. Therefore, in accordance with the law 
 of the State of New York, I do hereby pronounce you hus- 
 band and wife.' That's all." 
 
 " I don't think you'll ever be sorry, Alida," said Holcroft, 
 pressing her hand as he led her to a chair. Watterly again 
 bustled up with congratulations, and then said, " You must 
 all come out now to a little supper, and also remember that 
 it was gotten up in a hurry." 
 
 The domestic stared at Alida and Holcroft, and then, sur- 
 mising what had taken place, was so excited that she could 
 scarcely wait on the guests. 
 
 Holcrqft, with the simple tact which genuine kindness 
 usually suggests, was attentive to his bride, but managed, by 
 no sligiit effort for him, to engage the two men in general 
 conversation, so that Alida might have time to recover -her 
 composure. His quiet, matter-of-fact bearing was re-assuring 
 in itself. A cup of strong tea and a little old currant wine, 
 which Watterly insisted on her taking, brightened her up not 
 a little. Indeed, her weakness was now largely due to the 
 want of nourishment suited to her feeble condition. More- 
 over, both nerves and mind found relief and rest in the 
 consciousness that the decisive step had been taken. She 
 was no longer shuddering and recoiling from a past in which 
 each day had revealed more disheartening elements. Her 
 face was now towards a future that promised a refuge, 
 security, and even hope. 
 
 The quiet meal was soon over. Holcroft put a five dollar 
 bill in the hands of the justice, who filled in a certificate 
 and departed, feeling tliat the afternoon had not been spent 
 in vain. 
 
^ Bl/S7/V£SS MARI^IAGE. 1 79 
 
 "Jim," said Watterly, drawing his friend aside, "you'll 
 want to make some purchases. You know she's only wliat 
 she wears. How are you off for money? " 
 
 " Well, Tom, you know I didn't expect any thing of this 
 kind when " — 
 
 " Of course I know it. Will fifty answer ? " 
 
 " Yes. You're a good friend. I'll return it in a day or 
 two." 
 
 " Return it when you're a mind to. — I say, Alida, I want 
 you to take this. Jim Holcroft can't get married and his 
 bride not receive a present from me," and he put ten dollars 
 in her hand. 
 
 Tears rushed to her eyes as she turned them inquiringly 
 to Holcroft to' know what she should do. 
 
 " Now see here, Tom, you've done too much for us 
 already." 
 
 " Shut up, Jim Holcroft. Don't you end the day by hurt- 
 ing my feelings. It's perfectly right and proper for me to do 
 this. — Good-by, Alida. I don't believe you'll ever be sorry 
 you found your way to my hotel." 
 
 Alida took his proffered hand, but could only falter, " I 
 — I can never forget." 
 
l80 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 UNCLE JONATHAN'S IMPRESSION OF THE BRIDE. 
 
 "IV TOW, Alida," said Holcroft, as they drove away, "re- 
 
 IM member that we are two middle-aged, sensible people. 
 At least I'm middle-aged and fairly sensible, too, I hope. 
 You'll need to buy some things and I want you to get all 
 you need. Don't stint yourself, and you needn't hurry so as 
 to get tired, for we shall have moonlight and tliere's no use 
 trying to get home before dark. Is there any particular 
 store which you'd like to go to ? " 
 
 " No, sir, only I'd rather go over on the east side of town 
 where I'm not known." 
 
 " That suits me, for it's the side nearest home and I am 
 known there." 
 
 " Perhaps — perhaps you also would rather go this evening 
 where you are not known," she said, hesitatingly, 
 
 " It makes no difference to me. In fact, I know of a 
 place where you'll have a good choice at reasonable rates." 
 
 " I'll go where you wish," she said, quietly. 
 
 They soon entered a large shop together, and the pro- 
 prietor said, pleasantly, " Good evening, Mr. Holcroft.'' 
 
 " Good evening, Mr. Jasper. My wife wants to get some 
 things. If you'll be good enough to wait on her I'll step 
 out to do two or three errands." 
 
 The merchant looked curiously at Alida, but was too 
 polite to ask questions or make comments on her very 
 simple purchases. Her old gkill and training were of ser- 
 
JONATHAN'S IMPRESSION OF THE BRIDE. l8l 
 
 vice now. She knew just what she absolutely needed and 
 bought no more. 
 
 Holcroft laid in a good stock of groceries and some juicy 
 beef and then returned. When Mr. Jasper gave him his bill, 
 he went to Alida, who was resting, and said in a low voice, 
 " This won't do at all. You can't have bought half enough." 
 
 For the first time, something like a smile flitted across her 
 face, as she replied, " It's enough to begin with. I know.'' 
 
 "Really, Mr. Holcroft, I didn't know you were married," 
 said the merchant. " I must congratulate you.'' 
 
 " Well, I am. Thank you. Good-night." 
 
 A few moments later, he and his wife were bowling out of 
 town towards the hills. Reaching one of these, the horses 
 came down to a walk and Holcroft turned and said, " Are 
 you very tired, Alida ? I'm troubled about you taking this 
 long ride. You have been so sick." 
 
 " I'm sorry I'm not stronger, sir, but the fresh air seems 
 to do me good aad I think I can stand it." 
 
 " You didn't promise to obey me, did you ? " with a rather 
 nervous little laugh. • 
 
 " No, sir, but I will." 
 
 " That's a good beginning. Now see what an old tyrant 
 I am. In the first place, I don't want you to say " sir " to 
 me any more. My name is James. In the second place, 
 you must work only as I let you. Your first business is. to 
 get strong and well, and you know we agreed to marry on 
 strictly business grounds." 
 
 " I understand it well, but I think you are very kind for a 
 business man." 
 
 " Oh, as to that, if I do say it of myself, I don't think it's 
 my nature to be hard on those who treat me square. I think 
 we shall be very good friends in our quiet way, and that's 
 more than can be said of a good many who promise more 
 than they seem to remember afterwards." 
 
I82 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " I will try to do all you wish, for I am very grateful." 
 " If you do, you may find I'm as grateful as you are." 
 " That can never be. Your need and mine were very dif- 
 ferent. But I shall try to show my gratitude by learning 
 your ways and wishes and not by many words of thanks " 
 
 "Thank the Lord!" mentally ejaculated the- farmer, 
 " there's no Mrs. Mumpson in this case ; " but he only said, 
 kindly, " I think we understand each other now, Alida. I'm 
 not a man of words either, and I had better show by actions 
 also what I am. The fact is, although we are married, we 
 are scarcely acquainted, and people can't get acquainted in 
 a day." 
 
 The first long hill w,as surmounted and away they bowled 
 again, past cottage and farmhouse, through strips of wood- 
 land and between dusky fields from which came the fra- 
 grance of the springing grass and the peepings of the hylas. 
 The moon soon rose, full-orbed, above the higjier eastern 
 hills, and the mild April evenmg became luminous and full 
 of beauty. 
 
 A healing sense of quiet and security already began to 
 steal into Alid^'s bruised Jieart. In turning her back upon 
 the town in which she had suffered so greatly, she felt like 
 one escaping from prison and torture. An increasing assur- 
 ance of safety came with every mile ; the cool, still radiance 
 of the night appeared typical of her new and most unex- 
 pected, experience. Light bad risen on her shadowed path, 
 but it was not warm, vivifying sunlight which stimulates and 
 develops. A few hours before, she was in darkness which 
 might be felt — yet it was a gloom shot through and through 
 with lurid, threatening gleams. It had seemed to her that 
 she had fallen from home, happiness and honor to unfath- 
 omed depths, and yet there had appeared to be deeper and 
 darker abysses on every side. She had shuddered at the 
 thought of going out into the world, feeling that her misfor- 
 
JONATHAN'S IMPRESSTON OF THE BRIDE. 1 83 
 
 tune would awaken suspicion rather than sympathy, scorn 
 instead of kindness ; that she must toil on until death, to 
 sustain a life to which death would come as God's welcome 
 messenger. Then had come this man at her side, with his 
 comparatively trivial troubles and perplexities, and he had 
 asked her help — she who was so helpless. He had banished 
 despair from her earthly future, he had lifted her up and was 
 bearing her away from all which she had so dreaded ; noth- 
 ing had been asked which her crushed spirit was unable to 
 bestow ; she was simply expected to aid him in -his natural 
 wish to keep his home and to live where he had always 
 dwelt. His very inability to understand her, to see her 
 broken, trampled life and immeasurable need as she saw 
 it, brought quietness of mind. The concentration of his 
 thoughts on a few homely and simple hopes gave her immu- 
 nity. With quick intuition, she divined that she had not a 
 whimsical, jealous, exacting nature to deal with. He was 
 the plain, matter-of-fact man he seemed, so literal and abso- 
 lutely truthful that he would appear odd to most people. 
 To her mind, his were the traits which she could now most 
 welcome and value. He knew all about her, she had merely 
 to be herself, to do what she had promised, in order to rest 
 securely on his rock-like truth. He had again touched a 
 deep, grateful chord in speaking of her to the shopkeeper as 
 his wife ; he showed no disposition whatever to shrink from 
 the relation before the world ; it was evident that he meant 
 to treat her with respect and kindness, and to exact respect 
 from others. For all this, while sitting quietly and silently 
 at his side, she thanked him almost passionately in her heart ; 
 but far more than for all this she was glad and grateful that 
 he would not expect what she now felt it would be impossi- 
 ble for her to give, — the love and personal devotion which 
 had been inseparable from marriage in her girlhood thoughts. 
 He would make good his words, — she should be his wife 
 
1 84 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 in name and be respected as such. He was too simple and 
 true to himself and his buried love, too -considerate of her, to 
 expect more. She might hope, therefore, as he had said, 
 that they might be helpful, loyal friends, and he would have 
 been surprised indeed had he known how the pale, silent 
 woman beside him was longing and hoping to fill his home 
 with comfort. 
 
 Thoughts like these had inspired and sustained her while 
 at the same time administering the balm of hope. The quiet 
 face of nature, lovely in the moonlight, seemed to welcome 
 and re-assure her. Happy are those who, when sorely 
 wounded in life, can turn to the natural world and find in 
 every tree, shrub and flower a comforting friend that will not 
 turn from them. Such are not far from God and peace. 
 
 The range of Holcroft's thoughts was far simpler and 
 narrower than Alida's. He turned rather deliberately from 
 the past, preferring to dwell on the probable consummation 
 of his hope. His home, his farm, were far more to him than 
 the woman he had married. He had wedded her for their 
 sake, and his thoughts followed his heart which was in his 
 hillside acres. It is said that women often marry for a 
 home ; he truly had done so to keep his home. The 
 question which now most occupied him was the prospect 
 of doing this through quiet, prosperous years. He dwelt 
 minutely on Alida's manner, as well as her words, and found 
 nothing to shake his belief that she had been as truthful as 
 himself. Nevertheless, he queried in regard to the future 
 with not a little anxiety. In her present distress and poverty 
 she might naturally be glad of the refuge he had offered ; but 
 as time passed, and the poignancy of bitter memories was 
 allayed, might not her life on the farm seem monotonous 
 and dull, might not weariness and discontent come into her 
 eyes in place of gratitude? "Well, well," he concluded, 
 " this marrying is a risky experiment at best, but Tom Wat- 
 
JONATHAN'S IMPRESSION OF THE BRIDE. 1 85 
 
 terly's talk and her manner seemed to shut me up to it. I 
 was made to feel that I couldn't go on in any other way ; 
 and I haven't done any thing under-handed or wrong, as I 
 see, for the chance of going on. If I hadn't become such a 
 heathen, I should say there was a Providence in it, but I 
 don't know what to think about such things any more. 
 Time'U show, and the prospect is better than it has been yet. 
 She'll never be sorry if she carries out the agreement made 
 to-day, if kindness and good will can repay her." 
 
 Thus it may be seen that although two life currents had 
 become parallel, they were still very distinct. 
 
 By the time Holcroft approached the lane leading to his 
 dwelling Alida was growing very weary, and felt that her 
 endurance had almost reached its limit. Her face was so 
 white in the moonlight that he asked, solicitously, " You can 
 stand it a little longer, can't you? " 
 
 " I'll try. I'm very sorry I'm not stronger." 
 
 " Don't you worry about that. You won't know yourself 
 in a week. Here we are at the lane and there's the house 
 yonder. A moment or two more and you'll be by the fire." 
 
 A loud barking starded old Jonathan Johnson out of his 
 doze, and he hastened to replenish the fire and to call off 
 his rather savage dog. He was a little, surprised to see Hol- 
 croft driving towards the kitchen door with a woman by his 
 side. " He's tried his luck with anuther of them town gals," 
 he muttered, " but, Jerusalem ! she won't stay a week, an' 
 my old woman'll have the washin' an' mendin' all the same." 
 
 He could scarcely believe his ears and eyes when he heard 
 the farmer say, "Alida, you must let me lift you out," and 
 then saw the " town gal" set gently on the ground, her hand 
 placed on Holcroft's arm as she was supported slowly and 
 carefully to the rocking-chair beside the fire. 
 
 " Jonathan," was the quiet announcement, " this is Mrs. 
 Holcroft, my wife." 
 
1 86 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 "Jem— beg a pardon. Wasn't spectin' jis' sich a turn 
 o' things. — Respects, missus. Sorry to see yer enj'yin' 
 poor health." 
 
 " Yes, Jonathan, Mrs. Holcroft has been sick, but she's 
 much better and will soon be well. She's very tired now 
 from the long drive, but quiet life and country air will soon 
 make her strong. — I'll just step out and care for the horses, 
 Alida, and soon be back again. — You come and help me, 
 Jonathan, and keep your dog off, too." 
 
 The old man complied with rather poor grace, for he 
 would have much preferred to interview the bride at whom 
 he was staring with all his weak, watery eyes. Holcroft 
 understood his neighbor's peculiarities too well to subject his 
 wife to this ordeal, and was bent on despatching Jonathan 
 homeward as sooji as possible. 
 
 "I say, Jim," said the old guardsman, who felt that he was 
 speaking to the boy he had known for thirty odd years, 
 "where on airth did you pick up sich a sickly lopkin' 
 critter? " 
 
 " I didn't pick her up," replied the farmer, laughingly, "I 
 married her fair and square just as you did your wife a hun- 
 dred years ago, more or less. Haven't I as good a right to 
 get married as you had ? " 
 
 " Oh, I ain't a-disputin' yer right, but it seems so kind o' 
 suddint that it's taken what little breath I've left." 
 
 " How do you know it's sudden ? Did you go around 
 telling every one how you were getting on when you were 
 a-courting? " 
 
 " Well, I svvan ! yer got me. 'Tain't so long ago that I 
 disremember we did it on the sly." 
 
 " Well now. Uncle Jonathan, you've got nothing to say 
 against me, for I didn't marry on the sly, although I've gone 
 on the principle that my business wasn't everybody's busi- 
 ness. When I saw your wife about ray washing aiid mend- 
 
JONATHAN'S IMPRESSION OF THE BRIDE. 1 8/ 
 
 ing I didn't know I was going to be lucky so soon. You 
 know you can't marry a woman in this country till she's 
 willing. But tell your wife she sha'n't lose any thing, and 
 the next time I go to town I'll leave that settin' of eggs she 
 wanted. Now, Jonathan, honor bright, do you feel able to 
 walk home if I give you fifty cents extra?" 
 
 " Why sartinly ! s'pose I'd take yer away on sich a 'casion ? 
 My wife wouldn't let me in if she knowed it." 
 
 " Well, you and your wife are good neighbors, and that's 
 more'n I can say for most people in these parts. Here's 
 the money. Mrs. Holcroft isn't strong or well enough to 
 talk any to-night. You got yourself a good supper, didn't 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes, yes ; helped myself bount'fuUy. Good-night, and 
 good luck ter yer. I can't help thinkin' it was kind o' sud- 
 dint though, and then she's sich a sickly lookin' critter. 
 Hope yer haven't been takin in, but then, as you say, the 
 marryin' business, like other kinds o' business, is a man's 
 own business." 
 
 " I hope every one will take your sensible view, Uncle 
 Jonathan. Good-night." 
 
l88 HE FELL IN LOVE WITJI HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 AT HOME. 
 
 ALIDA was not so cold, weary and almost faint but that 
 she looked around the old kitchen with the strongest 
 ^ interest. This interest was as unlike Mrs. Mumpson's curi- 
 osity as she was unlike the widow. It is true the thought 
 of self was prominent, yet hers were not selfish thoughts. 
 Tjiere are some blessed natures in the world that in doing 
 the best for themselves do the best that is possible for 
 others. 
 
 The genial warmth of the fire was grateful to her chilled 
 and enfeebled frame ; the homely kitchen, witli its dresser 
 of china ware^ its tin-closet and pantry, the doors of wliich 
 old Jonathan had left open, man-like, after helping himself 
 "bountifully," all suggested more comfort to this pallid 
 bride, sitting there alone, than wealth of ornament in elegant 
 apartments have brought to many others. She saw her chief 
 domain, not in its coarse and common aspect, but as her 
 vantage ground, from which she could minister to the com- 
 forts of the one who had rescued her. Few brides would 
 care to enter the kitchen first, but she was pleased ; she 
 who had scarcely hoped to smile again looked smilingly 
 around on the quaint, homelike room. 
 
 " And this is to be my home," she murmured. " How 
 strange, unexpected, yet natural it all is ! — just wliat he led 
 me to expect. The little lonely farmliouse, where I can be 
 safe from staring eyes and unwounded by cruel questionings. 
 
AT HOME. 189 
 
 Yet that old man had a dozen questions on his tongue. I 
 believe he took him away to save my feelings. It's strange 
 that so plain and simple a man in most respects can be so 
 considerate. Oh, pray God that all goes on as it promises ! 
 I couldn't have dreamt it this morning, but I have an odd, 
 homelike feeling already. Well, since I am at home I may 
 as well take off my hat and cloak." 
 
 As she did so, Holcroft entered and said, heartily, " That's 
 right, Alida. You are here to stay, you know. You mustn't 
 think it amiss that I left you a few moments alone, for I had 
 to get that talkative old man off home. He's getting a little 
 childish and would fire questions at you point blank." 
 
 "But shouldn't you have taken him home in the wagon? 
 I don't mind being alone." 
 
 " Oh, no, he's spry enough to walk twice the distance and 
 often does. It's light as day outside and I made it right 
 with him. You can leave your things up stairs in your room, 
 and I'll carry up your bundles also, if you are rested enough 
 for the journey." 
 
 " Oh, yes," she replied, " I'm feeling better already." 
 
 He led the way to the apartment that Mrs. Mumpson had 
 occupied and said, regretfully, " I'm sorry the room looks 
 so bare and comfortless, but that will all be mended in time. 
 When you come down, we'll have some coffee and supper." 
 
 She soon re-appeared' in the kitchen, and he continued, 
 " Now I'll show you that I'm not such a very helpless sort 
 of man, after all, so if you're sick you needn't worry. I'm 
 going to get you a good cup of coffee and broil you a piece 
 of steak." 
 
 " Oh, please let me " — she began. 
 
 " No ; can't allow you to do any thing to-night but sit 
 in that chair. You promised to mind, you know,'' and he 
 smiled so genially that she smiled back at him, although 
 tears came into her eyes. 
 
I90 HE FELL lAT LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " I can't realize it all," she said in a low voice. " To 
 think how this day began and how it is ending ! " 
 
 "It's ending in a poor man's kitchen, Alida. It was 
 rather rough to bring you in here first, but the parlor is cold 
 and comfortless." 
 
 " I would rather be brought here. It seems to me that 
 it must be a light and cheerful room." 
 
 " Yes, the sun shines in these east windows, and there's 
 another window facing the south, so it's light all day long." 
 
 She watched him curiously, and with not a little self- 
 reproach, as he deftly prepared supper. "It's too -bad for 
 me to sit idle while you do such things, yet you do every 
 thing so well that I fear I shall seem awkward. Still, I think 
 I do at least know how to cook a little." 
 
 " If you knew what I've had to put up with for a year 
 or more, you wouldn't woiry about satisfying me in this 
 respect. Except when old Mrs. Wiggins was here, I had 
 few decent meals that I didn't get myself," and then, to 
 cheer her up, he laughingly told her of Mrs. Mumpson's 
 essay at making coffee. He had a certain dry humor, and 
 his unwonted effort at mimicry was so droll in itself that 
 Alida was startled to hear her own voice in laughter, and 
 she looked almost frightened, so deeply had she been im- 
 pressed that it would never be possible or even right for her 
 to laugh again. 
 
 The farmer was secretly much pleased at his success. If 
 she would laugh, be cheerful and not brood, he felt sure 
 she would get well and be more contented. The desperate 
 view she had taken of her misfortunes troubled him, and he 
 had thought it possible that she might sink into despondency 
 and something like invalidism ; but that involuntary bubble 
 of laughter re-assured him. " Quiet, wholesome, cheerful 
 life will restore her to health," he thought, as he put his 
 favorite beverage and the sputtering steak on the table. 
 
AT HOME. igi 
 
 " Now," he said, placing a chair at the table, "you can pour 
 me a cup of coffee." ' 
 
 " I'm glad I can do something," she answered, " for I 
 can't get over the strangeness of being so waited on. In- 
 deed, every thing that was unexpected or undreamt of has 
 happened," and there was just the faintest bit of color on 
 her cheeks as she sat down opposite him. 
 
 Few men are insensible to simple, natural, womanly grace, 
 and poor Holcroft, who so long had been compelled to see 
 at his table " perfect terrors," as he called them, was agree- 
 ably impressed by the contrast she made with the Mumpson 
 and Malony species. Alida unconsciously had a subtile 
 charm of carriage and action, learned in her long past and 
 happy girlhood, when all her aissociations were good and 
 refined. Still, in iti truest explanation, this grace is native 
 and not acquired ; it is a personal trait. Incapable of nice 
 analysis or fine definitions, he only thought, " How much 
 pleasanter it is to see at the table' a quiet, sensible woman 
 instead of a ' peculiar female ' ! " and it was not long before 
 he supplemented her remark by saying, " Perhaps things are 
 turning out for both of us better than we expected. I had 
 made up my mind this morning to ' live here like a hermit, 
 get my own meals, and all that. I actually had the rough 
 draught of an auction-bill in my pocket, — yes, here it is now, 
 — and was going to sell my cows, give up my dairy and try 
 to make my living in a way that wouldn't require any woman 
 help. That's what took me up to Tom Watterly's ; I wanted 
 him to help me put the bill in shape. He wouldn't look at 
 it, and talked me right out of trying to live like Robinson 
 Crusoe, as he expressed it. I had been quite cheerful over 
 my prospects ; indeed, I was almost happy in being alone 
 again after having such terrors in the house. But, as I said, 
 Watterly talked all the courage and hope right out of me, 
 and made it clear that I couldn't go it alone. You see, Tom 
 
192 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 and I have been friends since we were boys together, and 
 that's the reason he talks so plain to me." 
 
 " He has a good, kind heart," said Alida. " I don't think 
 I could have kept up at all had it not been for his kindness." 
 
 " Yes, Tom's a rough diamond. He don't make any pre- 
 tences, and looks upon himself as a rather hard case, but I 
 fancy he's doing kind things in his rough way half the time. 
 Well, as we were talking, he remembered you, and he spoke 
 of you so feelingly and told your story with so much honest 
 sympathy that he awoke my-sympathy. Now you know how 
 it has all come about. You see it's all natural enough and 
 simple enough, and probably it's the best thing that could 
 have happened for us both. All you have to do is to get 
 strong and well, and then it won't be any one-sided affair, as 
 you've been too much inchned to think. I can go on and 
 keep my farm and home just as my heart is bent on doing. 
 I want you to understand every thing, for then your mind 
 will be more satisfied and at rest, and that's half the battle 
 in getting over sickness and trouble like yours." 
 
 " I can only thank God and you for the great change in 
 my prospects. This quiet and escape from strangers are just 
 what I most craved, and I am already beginning to hope 
 that if I can learn to do all you wish, I shall find a content 
 that I never hoped for," and the tears that stood in her eyes 
 were witnesses of her sincerity. 
 
 " Well, don't expect to learn every thing at once. Let 
 me have my way for awhile, and then you'll find, as you get 
 strong, and the busy season comes on, that I'll be so taken 
 up with the farm that you'll have your own way. Won't you 
 have some more steak? No? Well, you've enjoyed your 
 supper a little, haven't you ? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied, smiling, " I actually felt hungry when 
 I sat down, and the coffee has taken away the tired, faint 
 feeling." 
 
AT HOME. 193 
 
 " I hope you'll soon be good and hungry three times a 
 day," he said, laughing pleasantly. 
 
 "You'll at least let me clear the table? " she asked. " I 
 feel so much better." 
 
 " Yes, if you are sure you're strong enough. It may make 
 you feel more at home. But drop every thing till to-morrow, 
 when tired. I must go out and do my night work, and it's 
 night work now, sure enough." 
 
 " It's too bad ! " she said, sympathetically. 
 
 " What ! to go out and feed my stock this clear, bright 
 night? and after a hearty supper, too? Such farming is 
 fun. I feel, too, as if I wanted to go and pat the cows all 
 around in my gladness that I'm not going to sell them. Now 
 remember, let every thing go till morning as soon as you feel 
 tired." 
 
 She nodded smilingly and set to work. Standing in the 
 shadow of a hemlock, he watched her for a few moments. 
 Her. movements were slow, as would be natural to one who 
 had been so reduced by illness, but this very evidence of 
 feebleness touched his feelings. " She is eager to begin — 
 too eager. No nonsense there about ' menial tasks.' Well, 
 it does give one hope to see such a woman as that in the 
 old kitchen," and then the hungry cattle welcomed him. 
 
 The traveller feels safe after the fierce Arab of the desert 
 has broken bread with him. It would seem that a deep 
 principle of human nature is involved in this act. More 
 than the restoring power of the nourishment itself was the 
 moral effect for Alida of that first meal in her husband's 
 home. It was another step in what he had said was essen- 
 tial, — the forming of his acquaintance. She had seen from 
 the first that he was plain and unpolished — that he had 
 not the veneer of gentility of the man she had so mistakenly 
 married, yet in his simple truth he was inspiring a respect 
 which she had never felt for any man before. " Wlut ele- 
 
194 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 ment of real courtesy has been wanting? " she asked herself. 
 " If this is an earnest of the future, thank God for the real. 
 I've found to my cost what a clever imitation of a man 
 means." 
 
 It was as sweet as it was strange to think that she, who had 
 trembled at the necessity of becoming almost a slave to un- 
 feeling strangers, had been compelled to rest while a hus- 
 band performed tasks naturally hers. It was all very homely, 
 yet the significance, of the act was chivalrous consideration 
 for her weakness ; the place, the nature of the ministry could 
 not degrade the meaning of his action. Then, too, during 
 the meal he had spoken natural, kindly words which gave to 
 their breakjng of bread together the true interpretation. Al- 
 though so feeble and weary, she found a deep satisfaction in 
 beginning her household work. "It does make me feel 
 more at home," she said. "Strange that he should have 
 thought of it." 
 
 She had finished her task and sat down again when he' 
 entered with a pail of milk. Taking a dipper with a strainer 
 on one side of it, he poured out a tumblerful. " Now take 
 this," he said. " I've always heard that milk fresh from the 
 cow was very strengthening. Then go and sleep till you are 
 thoroughly rested, and don't think of coming down in the 
 morning till you feel like it. I'll make the fire and get 
 breakfast. You have seen how easily I can do it. I have 
 several more cows to milk afid so will say 'good-night.' " 
 
 "Good-night, and may God always bless you for your 
 kindness to me to-day." 
 
 For the first time since chaos had come into her life, Alida 
 slept soundly and refreshingly, unpursued by the fears which 
 had haunted even her dreams. When she awoke, she ex- 
 pected to see the gray locks and repulsive features of the 
 woman who had occupied the apartment with her at the 
 almshouse, but she was alone in a small, strange room. 
 
AT HOME. 195 
 
 Then memory gathered up the threads of the past ; but so 
 strange, so blessed did the truth seem that she hastened to 
 dress and go down to the old kitchen and assure herself that 
 her mind had not become shattered by her troubles and was 
 mocking her with unreal fancies. The scene she looked 
 upon would have soothed and re-assured her even had her 
 mind been as disordered as she, for the moment, had been 
 tempted to believe. There was the same homely room which 
 had pictured itself so deeply on her memory the evening be- 
 fore. Now it was more attractive, for the morning sun was 
 shining into it, lighting up its homely details with a whole- 
 some, cheerful reality which made it difficult te believe that 
 tliere were tragic experiences in the world. The wood-fire 
 in the stove crackled merrily, and the lid of the kettle was 
 already bobbing up and down from internal commotion. 
 
 As she opened the door, a burst of song entered, securing 
 her attention. She had heard the birds before without recog- 
 nizing consciousness, as is so often true of our own condition 
 in regard to the familiar sounds of nature. It was now almost 
 as if she had received another sense, so strong, sweet and 
 cheering was the symphony. Robins, song-sparrows, black- 
 birds, seemed to have gathered in the trees near by, to give 
 her a jubilant welcome ; but she soon found that the music 
 shaded off to distant, dream-like notes and remembered that 
 it was a morning chorus of a hemisphere. This universality 
 did not render the melody less personally grateful. We can 
 appropriate all that is lovely in Nature, yet leave all for others. 
 As she stood listening,, and inhaling the soft air, full of the 
 delicious perfume of the grass and expanding buds and look- 
 ing through the misty sunshine on the half-veiled landscape, 
 she heard Holcroft's voice, chiding some unruly animal ih 
 the barn-yard. 
 
 This recalled her, and with the elasticity of returning 
 health and hope, she set about getting breakfast. 
 
196 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " It seems to me that I never heard birds sing before," 
 she thought, " and their songs this morning are ahnost like 
 the music of heaven. They seem as happy and unconscious 
 of fear and trouble as if they were angels. Mother and I 
 used to talk about the Garden of Eden, but could the air 
 have been sweeter, or the suijshine more tempered to just 
 the right degree of warmth and brightness than ,here about 
 my home ? Oh, thank God again, again and forever, for a 
 home like this," and for a few moments something of the 
 ecstasy of one delivered from the black thraldom of evil 
 filled her soul. She paused now and then to listen to the 
 birds, for only their songs seemed capable of expressing her 
 emotion. It was but another proof that heavenly thoughts 
 ar^d homely work may go on together. 
 
GETTING ACQUAINTED. 1 97 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 GETTING ACQUAINTED. 
 
 IT was Still early, and Holcroft was under the impression 
 that Alida would sleep late after the severe fatigues of 
 the preceding day. He therefore continued his work at the 
 barn sufficiently long to give his wife time for her little sur- 
 prise. She was not long in finding and laying her hands on 
 the simple materials for breakfast. A ham hung in the pantry, 
 and beneath it was a great basket of eggs, while the flour 
 barrel stood in the corner. Biscuits were soon in the 
 oven, eggs conjured into an omelet, and the ham cut into 
 delicate slices, instead of great coarse steaks. Remembering 
 Mrs. Mumpson's failure with the coffee, she made it a trifle 
 strong and boiled the milk that should temper without cool- 
 ing it. The biscuits rose like her own spirits, the omelet 
 speedily began to take on color like her own flushed face as 
 she busied herself about the stove. 
 
 Every thing was nearly ready when she saw HolcrOft coming 
 towards the house with two pails of milk. He took them to 
 the .large dairy room under the parlor and then came briskly 
 to the kitchen. She stood, screened by the door as he 
 entered, then stopped and stared at the table all set, and at 
 the inviting breakfast on the stove. 
 
 Seeing Alida's half-smiling, half-questioning face, seeking 
 his approval, he exclaimed, " Well you have stolen a march 
 on me. I supposed you were asleep yet." 
 
 " I felt so much stronger and better when I awoke that I 
 
198 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 thought you wouldn't mind if I came down and made a 
 beginning." 
 
 "You call this a beginning, do you? such a breakfast as 
 this before seven in the morning? I hope you haven't over- 
 taxed yourself." 
 
 " No, only a little of just the right kind of tired feeling." 
 
 " Haven't you left any thing for me to do ? " 
 
 " Perhaps. You will know when I've put all on the table. 
 What I've prepared is ready." 
 
 " Well, this is famous. I'll go and wash and fix up a little 
 and be right down." 
 
 When Holcroft returned, he looked at her curiously,- for 
 he felt that he, too, was getting acquainted. Her thin face 
 was made more youthful by color ; a pleased look was in 
 her blue eyes and a certain neatness and trimness about her 
 dress, to which he had not been accustomed. He scanned 
 the table wonderingly, for things were not put upon it at 
 hap-hazard ; the light biscuits turned- their brown cheeks 
 invitingly towards him, — she had arranged that they should 
 do that, — the ham was crisp, not sodden, and the omelet as 
 russet as a November leaf. " This is a new dish," he said, 
 looking at it closely. " What do you call- it? " 
 
 " Omelet. Perhaps you won't hke it, but mother used to 
 be very fond of it." • 
 
 " No matter. We'll have it if you like it and it brings 
 you pleasant thoughts of your mother." Then he took a 
 good sip of his coffee and set the cup down again' as he had 
 before under the Mumpson regime, but with a very different 
 expression. She looked anxiously at him, but was quickly 
 re-assured. " I thought / knew how to make coffee, but I 
 find I don't. I never tasted any thing so good as that. 
 How do you make it? " 
 
 " Just as mother taught me." 
 
 "Well, well, and you call this making a beginning? I 
 
GETTING ACQUAINTED. 1 99 
 
 just wish I could give Tom Watterly a cup of this coiifee. 
 It would set his mind at rest. ' By jocks ! ' he would say, 
 ' isn't this better than going it alone ? ' " 
 
 She looked positively happy under this sweet incense to 
 a housewifely heart. She was being paid in the coin that 
 women love best, and it was all the more precious to her 
 because she had never expected to receive it again. 
 
 He did like the omelet ; he liked every thing, and, after 
 helping her liberally, cleared the table, then said he felt 
 equal to doing two men's work. Before going out to his 
 work, he lighted a fire on the parlor hearth and left a good 
 supply of fuel beside it. "Now, Ahda," he remarked, 
 humorously, " I've already found out that you have one 
 fault that you and I will have to watch against. You are 
 too willing. I fear you've gone beyond your strength this 
 morning. I don't want you to do a thing to-day except to 
 get the meals, and remember, I can help in this if you don't 
 feel well. There is a fire in the parlor, and I've wheeled the 
 lounge up by it. Take it quietly to-day, and perhaps to- 
 morrow I can begin to show you about butter-making." 
 
 "I will do as you wish," she replied, "but please show 
 me a little more where things are before you go out." 
 
 This he did and added, " You'll find the beef and some 
 other things on a swing-shelf in the cellar. The potato bins 
 are down there, too. But don't try to get up much dinner. 
 What comes quickest and easiest will suit me. I'm a little 
 backward with my work and must plough all day for oats. 
 It's time they were in. After such a breakfast, I feel as if 
 I had eaten a bushel myself." 
 
 A few moments later, she saw him going ,up the lane, that 
 continued on past the house, with his stout team and the 
 plough, and she smiled as she heard him whistling " Coro- 
 nation " with levity, as some good people would have 
 thought. 
 
200 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 Ploughing and- planting time had come and under happier 
 auspices, apparently, than he had ever imagined possible 
 again. With the lines about his neck, he began with a side- 
 hill plough at the bottom of a large, sloping field which had 
 been in corn the previous year, and the long, straight furrows 
 increased from a narrow strip to a wide, oblong area. 
 "Ah," said he, in tones of strong satisfaction, " the ground 
 crumbles freely; it's just in the right condition. I'll quit 
 ploughing this afternoon in time to harrow and sow all the 
 ground that's ready. Then, so much'U be a,ll done and well 
 done. It's curious how seed, if it goes into the ground at 
 the right time and in the right way, comes right along and 
 never gets discouraged. I ain't much on scientific farming, 
 but I've always observed that when I sow or plant as soon 
 35 the grpund is ready, I have better luck." 
 
 The horses seemed infected by his own brisk spirit, step- 
 ping along without urging, and the farmer was swept speedily 
 into the full, strong current of his habitual interests. 
 
 One might have supposed the recent events would have 
 the uppermost place in his thoughts, but this was not true. 
 He rather dwelt upon them as the unexpectedly fortunate 
 means to the end now attained. This was his life, and he 
 was happy in the thought that his marriage promised to 
 make this life not merely possible, but prosperous and full 
 of quiet content. 
 
 The calling of the bom agriculturist, like that of the fish- 
 erman, has in it the element of chance and is therefore full 
 of moderate yet lasting excitement. Holcroft knew that, 
 although he did his best, much would depend on the weather 
 and other causes. He had met with disappointments in his 
 crops, and had also achieved what he regarded as fine suc- 
 cesses, although they would have seemed meagre on a West- 
 ern prairie. Every spring kindled anew his hopefulness and 
 anticipation. He watched the weather with the interested 
 
GETTING ACQUAINTED. 20I 
 
 and careful scrutiny of a sailor, and it must be admitted that 
 his labor and its results depended more on natural causes 
 than upon his skill and the careful use of fertilizers. He 
 was a farmer of the old school, the traditions received from 
 his father controlled him in the main. Still, his good com- 
 mon-sense and long experience stood him fairly well in the 
 place of science and knowledge of improved methods, 
 and he was better equipped than the man who has in his 
 brain all that the books can teach, yet is without ex- 
 perience. Best of all, he had inherited and acquired an 
 abiding love of the soil ; he never could have been con- 
 tent except in its cultivation ; he was therefore in the right 
 condition to assimilate fuller knowedge and make the most 
 of it. 
 
 He knew well enough when it was about noon. From 
 long habit, he would have known had the sky been overcast, 
 but now his glance at the sun was like looking at a watch. 
 Dusty and begrimed, he followed his team to the barn, 
 slipped from them their headstalls and left them to amuse 
 themselves with a little hay while they cooled sufficiently for 
 heartier food. " Well now," he mused, " I wonder what that 
 little woman has for dinner? another new dish, like enough. 
 Hanged if I'm fit to go in the house, and she looking so 
 trim and neat. I think I'll first take a souse 'in the brook," 
 and he went up behind the house where an -unfailing stream 
 gurgled swiftly down from the hills. At the nearest point, a 
 small basin had been hollowed out, and as he approached he 
 saw two or three speckled trout darting away through the 
 limpid water. 
 
 "Aha ! " he muttered, "glad you reminded me. When 
 she's stronger, she may enjoy catching our supper some 
 afternoon. I must think of all the little things I can to liven 
 her up, so she won't get dull. It's curious how interested 
 I am to know how she's got along and what she has for 
 
202 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 dinner. And to Ihink that less than a week ago, I used to 
 hate to go near the house ! " 
 
 As he entered the hall on his way to his room, that he 
 might make himself more presentable, an appetizing odor 
 greeted him and Alida smiled from the kitchen door as she 
 said, " Dinner's ready.'' 
 
 Apparently she had taken him at his word, as she had 
 prepared little else than an Irish stew, yet when he had par- 
 taken of it, he thought he would prefer Irish stews from that 
 time onward indefinitely. "Where did you learn to cook, 
 Alida?" he asked. 
 
 " Mother wasn't very strong and her appetite often failed 
 her. Then, too, we hadn't much to spend on our table, so 
 we tried to make simple things taste nice. Do you like my 
 way of preparing that old-fashioned dish ? " 
 
 " I'm going to show you how I like it," he replied, nod- 
 ding approvingly. " Well, what have you been doing besides 
 tempting me to eat too much ? " 
 
 "What you said, resting. You told me not to get up 
 much of a dinner, so I very lazily prepared what you see. 
 I've been lying on the lounge most of the morning." 
 
 " Famous ; and you feel better? " 
 
 " Yes, I think I shall soon get weU and strong," she 
 replied, looking at him gratefully. 
 
 " Well, well, my luck's turned at last. I once thought it 
 never would, but if this goes on — well, you can't know what 
 a change it is for the better. I can now put my mind on 
 my work." 
 
 "You've been ploughing all the morning, haven't you?" 
 she ventured, and there was the pleased look in her eyes that 
 he already liked to see. 
 
 "Yes," he replied, " and I must keep at it several days to 
 get in all the oats I mean to sow. If this weather holds I 
 shall be through next week." 
 
GETTING ACQUAINTED. 203 
 
 " I looked in the milk-room a while ago. Isn't there any 
 thing I could do there this afternoon?" 
 
 " No. I'll attend to every thing there. It's too damp for 
 you yet. Keep on resting. Why, bless me ! I didn't think 
 you'd be well enough to do any thing for a week," 
 
 "Indeed," she admitted, "I'm surprised at myself. It 
 seems as if a crushing weight had been lifted off my mind 
 and that I was coming right up. I'rn so glad, for I feared 
 I might be feeble and useless a long time." 
 
 "Well, Alida, if you had been, or if you ever are, don't 
 think I'll be impatient. The people I can't stand are those 
 who try to take advantage of me, and I tell you I've had to 
 contend with that disposition so long that I feel as if I could 
 do almost any thing for one who is simply honest and tries 
 to keep her part of an agreement. But this won't do. I've 
 enjoyed my own dinner so much that I've half forgotten that 
 the horses haven't had theirs yet. Now will you scold if I 
 light my pipe before I go out? " 
 
 " Oh, no, I don't mind that." 
 
 " No good-natured fibs. Isn't smoke disagreeable ? " 
 
 She shook her head. " I don't mind it at all," she said, 
 but her sudden paleness puzzled him. He could not know 
 that he had involuntarily recalled the many times that she 
 had filled the evening pipe for a man who now haunted her 
 memory like a spectre. 
 
 " I guess you don't like it very much," he said, as he 
 passed out. " Well, no matter. It's getting so mild that I 
 can smoke out of doors." 
 
 With the exception of- the episode of dinner, the day was 
 chiefly passed by Alida in a, health- restoring languor, the 
 natural re-action from the distress and strong excitements of 
 the past. The rest that had been enjoined upon her was a 
 blessed privilege, and still more happy was the truth that she 
 could rest. Reclining on the lounge in the parlor, with a 
 
204 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 wood fire on one side and the April sun on the other, both 
 creating warmth and good cheer, she felt like those who 
 have just escaped from a wreck and ingulfing waves. -Her 
 mind was too weary to question either the past or the future, 
 and sometimes a consciousness of safety is happiness in 
 itself. In the afternoon, the crackling of the fire and the 
 caUing and singing of the birds without formed a soothing 
 lullaby and she fell asleep. 
 
 At last, in a dream, she heard exquisite music which ap- 
 peared to grow so loud, strong and triumphant that she 
 started up and looked around bewildered. A moment later, 
 she saw that a robin was singing in a lilac bush by the win- 
 dow and that near the bird was a nest partially constructed. 
 Sne recalled her hopeless grief when she had last seen the 
 building of one of their little homes ; and she fell upon her 
 knees with a gratitude too deep for words, and far more 
 grateful to Heaven than words. 
 
 Stepping out on the porch, she saw by the shadows that 
 the sun was low in the west and that Holcroft was coming 
 down the lane with his horses. He nodded pleasantly as he 
 passed on to the bam. Her eyes followed him lingeringly 
 till he disappeared, and then they ranged over the wide val- 
 ley and the wooded hills in the distance. Not a breath of 
 air was stirring ; the lowing of cattle and other rural sounds, 
 softened by distance, came from other farmhouses ; the 
 birds were at vespers, and their songs, to her fancy, were 
 imbued with a softer, sweeter melody than in the morning. 
 From the adjacent fields came clear, mellow notes that made 
 her nerves tingle, so ethereal yet penetrating were they. She 
 was sure she had never heard such bird music before. When 
 Holcroft came in to supper she asked, "What birds are those 
 that sing in the field ? " 
 
 " Meadow larks. Do you like them ? " 
 
 " I never heard a hymn sung that did me more good." 
 
GETTING ACQUAINTED. 205 
 
 " Well, I own up, I'd rather hear 'em than much of the 
 singing we used to have down at the meeting-house." 
 
 " It seems to me," she remarked, as she sat down at the 
 table, " that I've never heard birds sing as they have to-day." 
 
 " Now I think of it, they have been tuning up wonderfully. 
 Perhaps they've an idea of my good luck," he added, 
 smilingly. 
 
 " I had thought of that about myself," she ventured. " I 
 took a nap this afternoon, and a robin sang so near the win- 
 dow that he woke me up. It was a pleasant way to be 
 waked." 
 
 " Took a nap, did you ? That's famous. Well, well, this 
 day's gone just to suit me, and I haven't had many such in 
 a good while, I can tell you. I've got in a big strip of oats, 
 and now, when I come in tired, here's a good supper. I 
 certainly shall have to be on the watch to do Tom Watterly 
 good turns for talking me into this business. That taking 
 a nap was a first-rate idea. You ought to keep it up for a 
 month." 
 
 " No, indeed. There's no reason why you should work 
 hard and I be idle. I've rested to-day, as you wished, and 
 I feel better than I ever expected to again ; but to-morrow 
 I must begin in earnest. What use is there of your keeping 
 your cows, if good butter is not made ? Then I must be 
 busy with my needle." 
 
 " Yes, that's true enough. See how thoughtless I am. I 
 forgot you hadn't any clothes to speak of. I ought to take 
 you to town to a dressmaker." 
 
 " I think you had better get your oats in," she replied, 
 smiling shyly. " Besides, I have a dressmaker that just suits 
 me — one that's made my dresses a good many years." 
 
 " If she don't suit you, you're hard to be suited," said he, 
 laughing. " Well, some day, after you are fixed up, I shall 
 have to let you know how dilapidated I am." 
 
206 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Won't you do me a little favor? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, a dozen of 'em, big or little." 
 
 "Please bring down this evening something that needs 
 mending. I am so much better " — 
 
 "No, no, I wasn't hinting for, you to do any thing to- 
 night." 
 
 "But you've promised me," she urged. "Remember, 
 I've been resting nearly, all day. I'm used to sewing, and 
 earned my living at it. Somehow, it don't seem natural for 
 me to sit with idle hands." 
 
 " If I hadn't promised " — 
 
 " But you have." 
 
 " I suppose I'm fairly caught," and he brought down a 
 little of the most pressing of the mending; 
 
 " Now I'll reward you," she said, handing him his pipe, 
 well filled. "You go in the parlor and have a quiet smoke. 
 I won't be long in clearing up the kitchen." 
 
 "What ! smoke in the parlor? " 
 
 "Yes, why not? I assure you I don't mind it." 
 
 "Ha! ha! Why didn't I think of it before? I might 
 have kept the parlor and smoked Mrs. Mumpson out." 
 
 " It won't be smoke that will keep me out." 
 
 " I should hope not, or any thing else. I must tell you 
 how I did\\2Me. to smoke Mrs. Mumpson out at last," and 
 he did so with so much drollery that she again yielded to 
 irrepressible laughter. 
 
 " Poor thing ! I'm sorry for her," she said. 
 
 " I'm sorry for Jane — poor little stray cat of a child ! I 
 hope we can do something for her some day,'' and having 
 lighted his pipe, he took up the county paper, left weekly in 
 a hollow tree by the stage-driver, and went into the parlor. 
 
 After freshening up the fire, he sat down to read, but by 
 the time she joined him, the tired man was nodding. He 
 tried to brighten up, but his eyes were heavy. 
 
GETTING ACQUAINTED. 207 
 
 " You've worked hard to-day," she said, sympathetically. 
 
 " Well, I have," he answered, " I've not done such a good 
 day's work in a year." 
 
 " Then why don't you go to sleep at once ? " 
 
 " It don't seem polite " — 
 
 "Please don't talk that way," she interrupted. "I don't 
 mind being alone at all. I shall feel a great deal more at 
 home if you forget all about ceremony." 
 
 " Well, AUda, I guess we had both better begin on that 
 basis. If I give up when I'm tired, you must. You mustn't 
 think I'm always such a sleepyhead. The fact is I've been 
 more tired out with worry of late than with work. I can 
 laugh about it now, but I've been so desperate over it that 
 I've felt more like swearing. You'll find out I've become 
 a good deal of a heathen." 
 
 " Very well, I'll wait till I find out." 
 
 " I think we are getting acquainted famously, don't you ? " 
 
 "Yes," she nodded, with a smile that meant more than a 
 long speech. " Good-night." 
 
208 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 BETWEEN THE PAST AND FUTURE. 
 
 HUMAN nature, in common with Mother Nature, has its 
 immutable laws. The people who existed before the 
 flood were, in their primal motives, like those of to-day. 
 The conventionality of highly civilized - society does not 
 change the heart, but it puts so much restraint upon it that 
 not a few appear heartless. They march through life and 
 fight its battles like uniformed men, trained in a certain 
 school of tactics. This monotony of character and action 
 is superficial in most cases, rather than real, and he who 
 fathoms the eyes of others, who catches the subtile quality 
 of tones and interprets the flexibly mouth that utters them, 
 will discovej that the whole gamut of human nature exists 
 in those that appear only like certain musical instruments, 
 made by machinery to play a few well known tunes. Con- 
 ventional restraint often, no doubt, produces dwarfed and 
 defective human nature. I suppose that if souls could be 
 put under a microscope, the undeveloped- rudiments of 
 almost every thing would be discovered. It is more satis- 
 factory to study the things themselves than their suggestions ; 
 this we are usually better able to do among people of simple 
 and untrammelled modes of life, who are not practised in 
 disguises. Their peculiar traits and their general and domi- 
 nant laws and impulses are exhibited with less reserve than 
 by those who have learned to be always on their guard. 
 Of course there are commonplace yeomen as truly as 
 
BETWEEN" THE PAST AND FUTURE. 209 
 
 commonplace aristocrats, and simple life abounds in sim- 
 pletons. 
 
 When a man in Holcroft's position has decided traits, 
 they are apt to have a somewhat full expression ; his rugged 
 nature beside a tamer one outlines itself more vividly, just 
 as a mountain-peak is silhouetted against the horizon better 
 than a rounded hill. It probably has been observed that 
 his character possessed much simplicity and directness. 
 He had neither the force nor the ambition to raise him 
 above his circumstances ; he was merely decided within the 
 lines of his environment. Perhaps the current of his life 
 was all the stronger for being narrow. His motives were 
 neither complex nor vacillating. He had married to keep 
 his home and to continue in the conditions of life dear from 
 association and the strongest preference, and his heart over- 
 flowed with good will and kindness towards Alida because 
 she promised to solve the hard problem of the future satis- 
 factorily. Apart from the sympathy which her misfortune 
 had evokfed, he probably could have felt much the same 
 towards any other good, sensible woman, had she rendered 
 him a similar service. It is true, now that Alida was in his 
 home, that she was manifesting agreeable traits which gave 
 him pleasant little surprises. He had not expected that he 
 would have had half so much to say to her, yet felt it his 
 duty to be sociable in order to cheer her up and mark the 
 line between even a business marriage and the employment 
 of a domestic. Both his interest and his duty required that 
 he should establish the bonds of strong friendly regard on 
 the basis of perfect equality, and he would have made efforts 
 similar to those he put forth in behalf of any woman, if she 
 had consented to marry him with Alida's understanding. 
 Now, however, that his suddenly adopted project of securing 
 a housekeeper and helper had been consummated, he would 
 find that he was not dealing with a business-partner in the 
 
2IO HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 abstract, but a definite woman, who had already begun to 
 exert over him her natural influence. He had expected 
 more or less constraint and that some time must elapse 
 before his wife would cease to be in a sense company whom 
 he, with conscious and deliberate effort, must entertain. On 
 the contrary, she entertained and interested him, although 
 she said so little, and by some subtile power she unloosed 
 his tongue and made it easy for him to talk to her. In the 
 most quiet and unobtrusive way, she was not only making 
 herself at home, but him also ; she was very subservient to 
 his wishes, but not servilely so ; she did not assert, but only 
 revealed her superiority, and after even so brief an acquaint- 
 ance he was ready to indorse Tom Watterly's view, " She's 
 out of the common run." 
 
 While all this was true, the farmer's heart was as un- 
 touched as that of a child who simply and instinctively likes 
 a person. He was still quietly and unhesitatingly loyal to 
 his former wife. Apart from his involuntary favor, his shrewd, 
 practical reason was definite enough in its grounds of ap- 
 proval. Reason assured him that she promised to do and 
 to be just what he had married her for, but this might have 
 been true of a capable, yet disagreeable woman whom he 
 could not like to save himself. 
 
 Both in regard to himself and Alida, Holcroft accepted 
 the actual facts with the gladness and much of the unques- 
 tioning simplicity of a child. This rather risky experiment 
 was turning out well, and for a time he daily became more 
 and more absorbed in his farm and its interests. Alida 
 quietly performed her household tasks and proved that fhe 
 would not need very much instruction to become a good 
 butter-maker. The short spring of the North required that 
 he should be busy early and late to keep pace with the 
 quickly passing seed-time. His hopefulness, his freedom 
 from household worries, prompted him to sow and plant 
 
BETWEEN THE PAST AND FUTURE. 211 
 
 increased areas of land. In brief, he entered on just the 
 business-like honeymoon he had hoped for. 
 
 Alida was more than content with the conditions of her 
 life. She saw that Holcroft was not only satisfied, but also 
 pleased with her, and that was all she had expected and 
 indeed all that thus far she had wished or hoped. She had 
 many sad hours ; wounds like hers cannot heal readily in 
 a true, sensitive woman's heart. While she gained in cheer- 
 fulness and confidence, the terrible and unexpected disaster 
 which had overtaken her rendered impossible the serenity 
 of those with whom all has gone well. Dread of something, 
 she knew not what, haunted her painfully, and memory at 
 times seemed mahgnantly perverse in recalling one whom 
 she prayed to forget. 
 
 Next to her faith and Holcroft's kindness, her work was 
 her best solace, and she thanked God for the strength to 
 keep busy. 
 
 On the first Sunday morning after their marriage the 
 farmer overslept and breakfast had been ready some time 
 when he came down. He looked with a little dismay at the 
 clock over the kitchen mantel and asked, " Aren't you going 
 to scold a little ? " 
 
 She shook her head, nor did she. look the chiding which 
 often might as well be spoken. 
 
 " How long have I kept breakfast waiting, or you rather? " 
 
 "What difference does it make? You needed the rest. 
 The breakfast may not be so nice," was her smiling answer. 
 
 " No matter. You are nice to let a man off in that way." 
 Observing the book in her lap he continued, " So you were 
 reading the old family Bible to learn lessons of patience and 
 forbearance ? " 
 
 Again she shook her head. She often oddly reminded 
 him of Jane in her employment of signs instead of speech, 
 but in her case there was a grace, a suggestiveness and even 
 
212 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WiFE. 
 
 a piquancyabout them which made them like a new language. 
 He understood and fiiterpreted her frankly. " I know, Alida," 
 he said, kindly, " you are a good woman. You believe in 
 the Bible and love to read it." 
 
 " I was taught to read and love it," she replied, simply. 
 Then her eyes dropped and she faltered, " I've reproached 
 myself bitterly that I rushed away so hastily that I forgot 
 the Bible my mother gave me." 
 
 " No, no," he said, heartily, " don't reproach yourself for 
 that. It was the Bible in your heart that made; you act 
 as you did." 
 
 She shot him a swift, grateful glance through her tears, 
 but made no other response. 
 
 Having returned the Bible to the pailor, she put the 
 breakfast on the table and said, quietly, "It looks as if 
 we would have a rainy day." 
 
 "Well," said he, laughing, " I'm as bad as the old woman 
 — it seems that women can run farms alone if men can't. 
 Well, this old 'dame had a big farm and employed several 
 men, and she was always wishing it would rain nights and 
 Sundays. I'm inclined to" chuckle over the good this rain 
 will do' my oats, instead of being sorry to think how many 
 sinners it'll keep' from church. Except in protracted- 
 meeting times, most people of this town would a great 
 deal rather risk their souls than be caught in the rain on 
 Sunday. We don't mind it much week-days, but Sunday 
 rain is very dangerous to health." 
 
 "I'm afraid I'm as bad as the rest," she said, smiling. 
 " Mother and I usually stayed home when it rained hard." 
 
 " Oh, we don't need a hard storm in the country. People 
 say, 'It looks threatening,' and that settles it; but we often 
 drive to town rainy days to save time." 
 
 " Do you usually go to church at the meeting-house I see 
 off in the valley?" she asked. 
 
BETWEEN THE P4ST AND FUTURE. 213 
 
 " I don't go anywhere," and he watched keenly to see 
 how she would take this blunt statement of his practical 
 heathenism. 
 
 She only looked at him kindly and accepted the fact. 
 
 "Why don't you pitch into me?" he asked. 
 
 "That wouldn't do any good." 
 
 " You'd like to go, I suppose ? " ^ 
 
 " No, not under the circumstances, unless you wished to. 
 I'm cowardly enough to dread being stared at." 
 
 He gave a deep sigh of relief. "This thing has been 
 troubling me," he said. " I feared you would want to go, 
 and if you did, I should feel that you ought to go." 
 
 " I fear I'm very weak about it, but I shrink so from 
 meeting strangers. I do thank God for his goodness 
 many times a day and ask for help. I'm not brave 
 enough to do any more, yet." 
 
 His rugged features became very sombre as he said, " I 
 wish I had as much courage as you have.'' 
 
 " You don't understand me," she began, gently. 
 
 " No, I suppose not. It's all become a muddle to me. I 
 mean this church and religious business." 
 
 She looked at him wistfully, as if she wished to say some- 
 thing, but did not venture to do so. He promptly gave a 
 different turn to the conversation by quoting Mrs. Mump- 
 son's tirade on church going the first Suiiday after her 
 arrival. Alida laughed, but not in a wholly mirthful and 
 satisfied way. "There," he concluded, "I'm touching on 
 things a little too sacred for you. I respect your feelings 
 and beliefs, for they are honest and I wish I shared in 'em." 
 Then he suddenly laughed again as he added, " Mrs. Mump- 
 son said there was too much milking done on Sunday, and 
 it's time I was breaking the Fourth Commandment, after 
 her notion." 
 
 Alida now laughed outright, without reservation. 
 
214 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " ' By jocks ! ' as Watterly says, what a difference there is 
 in women ! " he soliloquized on his way to the barn. " Well, 
 the church question is settled for the present, but if Alida 
 should ask me to go, after her manner this morning, I'd 
 face the whole creation with her." 
 
 When at last he came in and threw off his water-proof 
 coat, the kitchen was in order, and his wife was sitting by 
 the parlor fire with Thomson's " Land and the Book " in 
 her hand. 
 
 "Are you fond of reading?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes, very." 
 
 "Well, I am, too, sort of; but I've let the years slip by 
 without doing half as much as I ought." 
 
 " Light your pipe and I'll read to you if you wish me to." 
 
 " Oh, come, now. I at least believe in Sunday as a day 
 of rest and you need it. Reading aloud is about as hard 
 work as I can do." 
 
 " But I'm used to it. I read aloud to mother a great 
 deal," and then there passed over her face an expression of 
 deep pain. 
 
 " What is it, AUda ? Don't you feel well ? " 
 
 "Yes, oh,- yes," she replied, hastily, and her pale face 
 became crimson. 
 
 It was another stab of memory recalling the many Sundays 
 she had read to the man who had deceived her, "Shall I 
 read? " she asked. 
 
 "Alida," he said, very kindly, "it wasn't the thought of 
 your mother that brought that look of pain into your face." 
 
 She shook her head sadly, with downcast eyes. After a 
 moment or two, she raised them appealingly to him as she 
 said simply, " There is so much that I wish I could forget.'' 
 
 " Poor child ! Yes, I think I know. Be patient with 
 yourself, and remember that you were never to blame.". 
 
 Again came that quick, grateful glance by which some 
 
BETWEEN THE PAST AND FUTURE. 215 
 
 women express more than others can ever put in words. 
 Her thought was, " I didn't think that even he was capable 
 of that. What a way of assuring me that he'll be patient 
 with me ! " Then she quietly read for an hour descriptions 
 of the Holy Land that were not too religious for Holcroft's 
 mind and which satisfied her conscience better than much 
 she had read in former days to satisfy a taste more alien to 
 hers than that of her husband. 
 
 Holcroft listened to her correct pronunciation and sweet, 
 natural tones with a sort of pleased wonder. At last he 
 said, " You must stop now." 
 
 "Are you tired? " she asked. 
 
 " No, but you are, or ought to be. Why, Alida, I didn't 
 know you were so well educated. I'm quite a barbarous old 
 fellow compared with you." 
 
 " I hadn't thought of that before," she said, with a laugh. 
 
 " What a fool I was, then, to put it into your head ! " 
 
 "You must be more careful. I'd never have such 
 thoughts if you didn't suggest them." 
 
 " How did you come to get such a good education?" 
 
 " I wish I had a better one. Well, I did have good 
 advantages up to the time I was seventeen. After I was 
 old enough I went to . school quite steadily, but it seems to 
 me that I learned a little of every thing and not much of 
 any thing. When father died and we lost our property, we 
 had to take to our needles. I suppose I might have obtained 
 work in a store, or some such place, but I couldn't bear to 
 leave mother alone and I disliked being in public. I cer- 
 tainly didn't know enough to teach, and besides, I was afraid 
 to try." 
 
 " Well, well, you've stumbled into a quiet enough place at 
 last." 
 
 " That's what I like most about it, but I don't think I 
 stumbled into it. I think I've been led and helped. That's 
 
2l6 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 what I meant when I said you didn't understand me," she 
 added, hesitatingly. " It .don't take courage for me to go 
 to God. I get courage by believing that he cares for me like 
 a father, as the Bible says. How could I ever have found 
 so kind a friend and good a home myself? '.' 
 
 "I've been half inclined to believe there's a Providence 
 in it myself — more and more so as I get acquainted with 
 you. Your troubles have made you better, Alida; mine 
 made me worse. I used to be a Christian ; I ain't any 
 more." 
 
 She looked at him smilingly as she asked, " How do yoii 
 know?" 
 
 " Oh, I know well enough,'' he replied, gloomily. " Don't 
 let's talk about it anjf more," and then he led heron to speak 
 simply and naturally about her childhood home and her 
 father and mother. 
 
 " Well," he said, heartily, " I wish your mother was living, 
 for nothing would please me better than to have such a good 
 old lady in the house." 
 
 She averted her face as she said, huskily, " I think it was 
 better she died before " — but she did not finish the sen- 
 tence. 
 
 By the time dinner was over, the sun was shining brightly, 
 and he asked her if she would not like to go up the lane to 
 his woodland to see the view. Her pleased look was suffi- 
 cient answer. " But are you sure you are strong enough?" 
 he persisted. 
 
 " Yes, it will do me good to go out, and I may find some 
 wild flowers." 
 
 " I guess you can, a million or two." 
 
 By the time he was through at the barn she was ready and 
 they started up the lane, now green with late April grass 
 and enlivened with dandelions in which bumble-bees were 
 wallowing. The sun had dried the moisture sufficiently for 
 
BETWEEN THE PAST AND FUTURE. 217 
 
 them to pass on dry-shod, but every thing had the fresh, 
 vernal aspect that follows a warm rain. Spring had advanced 
 with a great bound since the day before. The glazed and 
 glutinous cherry buds had expanded with aromatic odors 
 and the white of the blossoms was beginning to show. 
 
 " By to-morrow," said Holcroft, " the trees will look as 
 if covered with snow. Let me help you," and he put his 
 hand under her arm, supporting and aiding her steps up the 
 steep places. 
 
 Her lips were parted, the pleased look was in her eyes as 
 they rested on trees and shrubs which lined the half ruinous 
 stone walls on either side. " Every thing seems so alive and 
 glad this afternoon," she remarked. 
 
 "Yes," replied the matter-of-fact farmer. "A rain such 
 as we had this morning is like turning the water on a big 
 mill-wheel. It starts all the machinery right up. Now the 
 sun's out, and that's the greatest motor power of all. Sun 
 and moisture make the farm go." 
 
 " Mustn't the ground be enriched, too?" 
 
 " Yes, yes indeed ; I suppose that's where we all fail. 
 But it's no easy matter to keep a farrn in good heart. 
 That's another reason why I'm so glad I won't have to sell 
 my stock. A farm run without stock is sure to grow poor ; 
 and if the farm grows poor, the owner does as a matter of 
 course. But what put enriching the ground into your head ? 
 Do you know any thing about farming? " 
 
 " No, but I want to learn. When I was a girl, father had 
 a garden. He used to take papers about it, and I often 
 read them aloud to him evenings. Now I remember there 
 used to be much in them about enriching the ground. Do 
 you take any such paper?" 
 
 " No. I haven't much faith in book-farming." 
 
 " I don't know," she ventured. " Seems to me you might 
 get some good ideas out of papers, and your experience 
 
2l8 HE FELL im LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 would teach you whether they were useful ideas or not. If 
 you'll take one, I'll read it to you." 
 
 " I will, tlien, for the pleasure of hearing you read, if 
 nothing else. That's something I hadn't bargained for," he 
 added, laughing. 
 
 She answered in the same spirit by saying, "I'll throw 
 that in and not call it square yet." 
 
 " I think I've got the best of you," he chuckled ; " and 
 you know nothing makes a Yankee farmer happier than^ to 
 get the best of a bargain." 
 
 " I hope you'll continue to think so. Can I sit down a 
 few moments?" 
 
 " Why certainly. How forgetful I am ! Your talk is too 
 interesting for me to think of any thing else," and he 
 placed her on a flat rock by the side of the lane, while he 
 leaned against the wall. 
 
 Bees and other insects were bumming around them ; a butr 
 terfly fluttered oVer the fence and alighted on a dandelion 
 almost at her feet ; meadow larks were whistling their limpid 
 notes in the adjoining fields, while from the trees aboiit the 
 house beneath them came the songs of many birds, blending 
 with tlie babble of the brook which ran not far away. 
 
 " Oh, how beautiful, how strangely beautiful it all is ! " 
 
 "Yes, when you come to think of it, it is real pretty," he 
 replied. " It's a pity we get so used to such things that we 
 don't notice 'em much. I should feel miserable enough, 
 though, if I couldn't live in just such a place. I shouldn't 
 wonder if I was a good deal like that robin yonder. I like 
 to be free and enjoy the spring weather, but I suppose 
 neither he nor I think or know how fine it all is." 
 
 " Well, both you and the robin seem a part of it," she said, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Oh, no, no," he replied with a guffaw which sent the 
 robin off in alarm, " I ain't beautiful and never was." 
 
BETWEEN THE PAST AND FUTURE. 219 
 
 She joined his laugh, but said with a positive little nod, 
 " I'm right, though. The robin isn't a, pretty bird, yet every- 
 body likes him." 
 
 " Except in cherry time. Then he has an appetite equal 
 to mine. But everybody don't like me. In fact, / think 
 I'm generally disliked in this town." 
 
 " If you went among them more they wouldn't dislike 
 you." 
 
 " I don't want to go among them." 
 
 " They know it, and that's the reason they dislike you." 
 
 "Would you like to go out to tea-drinkings, and all that?" 
 
 " No indeed \ and I don't suppose I'd be received," she 
 added, sadly. 
 
 " So much the worse for them, then, blast 'em," said Hol- 
 croft, wrathfuUy. 
 
 " Oh no, I don't feel that way and you shouldn't. When 
 they can people ought to be sociable and kind." 
 
 " Of course I'd do any of my neighbors, except Lemuel 
 Weeks, a good turn if it came in my way, but the less I 
 have to do with them the better I'm satisfied." 
 
 " I'm rested enough to go on now," said Alida, quietly. 
 
 They were not long in reaching the edge of the woodland, 
 from which there was an extended prospect. For some 
 little time they looked at the wide landscape in silence. 
 Alida gave to it only partial attention, for her mind was very 
 busy with thoughts suggested by her husband's alienation 
 from his neighbors. It would make it easier for her, but the 
 troubled query would arise, " Is it right or best for him ? 
 His marrying me will separate him still more." 
 
 Holcroft's face grew sad rather than troubled as he looked 
 at the old meeting-house and not- at the landscape. He was 
 sitting near the spot where he spent that long forenoon a 
 few Sundays before, and the train of thought came back 
 again. In his deep abstraction, he almost forgot the woman 
 
220 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 near him in memories of the past. His old love and lost 
 faith were inseparable from that little white spire in the 
 distance. 
 
 Alida stole a glance at him and thought, " He's thinking 
 of her," and she quietly strolled away to look for wild flowers. 
 
 "Yes," muttered Holcroft, at last, "I hope Bessie knows. 
 She'd be the first one to say it was right and best for me, 
 and she'd be glad to know that in securing my own home 
 and comfort I had given a home to the homeless and sorrow- 
 ful — a quiet, good woman, who worships God as she did." 
 
 He rose and joined his wife, who held towards him a 
 handful of "trailing arbutus, rue anemones, bloodroot and 
 dicentras. " I didn't know they were so pretty before," he 
 said with a smile. 
 
 His smile re-assured her, for it seemed kinder than any she 
 had yet received, and his tone was very gentle. " His dead 
 wife will never be my enemy," she murmured. "He has 
 made it right with her in his own thoughts." 
 
GIVEN HER OWN WAY. 221 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV; 
 
 GIVEN HER OWN WAY. 
 
 ON Monday the absorbing work of the farm was re- 
 newed, and every day brought to Holcroft long and 
 exhausting hours of labor. While he was often taciturn, he 
 evidently progressed in cheerfulness and hope. Alida con- 
 firmed his good impressions. His meals were prompt and 
 inviting ; the house was taking on an aspect of neatness and 
 order long absent, and his wardrobe was put in as good 
 condition as its rather meagre character permitted. He had 
 positively refused to permit his wife to do any washing and 
 ironing. "We will see about it next fall," he said. "If 
 then you are perfectly well and strong, perhaps, but not in 
 the warm weather now coming on." Then he added, with 
 a little Qod, " I'm finding out how valuable you are, and I'd 
 rather save you than the small sum I have to pay old Mrs. 
 Johnson." 
 
 In this and in other ways he showed kindly consideration, 
 but his mind continually reverted to his work and out-door 
 plans with the pre-occupation of one who finds that he can 
 again give his thoughts to something from which they had 
 been most reluctantly withdrawn. Thus Alida was left alone 
 most of the time. When the dusk of evening came, he was 
 too tired to say much and he retired early that he might be 
 fresh for work again when the sun appeared. She had no 
 regrets, for although she kept busy, she was resting and her 
 wounds were healing through the long, quiet days. It was 
 
222 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 the essential calm after the storm. Caring for the dairy and 
 working the butter into firm, sweet, tempting yellow rolls 
 were the only tasks that troubled her a little, but Holcroft 
 assured her that she was learning these important duties 
 faster than he had expected her to. She had several 
 hours a day in which to ply her needle and thus was 
 soon enabled to replenish her scanty wardrobe. 
 
 One morning at breakfast, she appeared in another gown, 
 and although its material was calico, she had the appearance 
 to Holcroft of being unusually well dressed. He looked 
 pleased, but made no comment. When the cherry blossoms 
 were fully out, an old cracked flower vase — the only one 
 in the house — was filled with them, and they were placed 
 in the centre of the dinner table. He looked at them and 
 her, then smilingly remarked, " I shouldn't wonder if you 
 enjoyed those cherry blows more than any thing else we 
 have for diimer." 
 
 " I want something else, though. My appetite almost 
 frightens me." 
 
 " That's famous. I needn't be ashamed of mine, then." 
 
 One evening, before the week was over, he saw her busy 
 with a rake about the door. Last year's leaves were still 
 scattered about, with twigs and even small boughs wrested 
 by the winds from the trees. He was provoked with him- 
 self that he had neglected the usual spring clearing away of 
 litter and a litde irritated that she should have tried to do 
 the work herself. He left the horses at the barn and came 
 forward directly. "Alida," he said, gravely, "there's no 
 need of your doing such work ; I don't like to see you 
 do it." 
 
 "Why," she replied, "I've heard that women in the 
 country often milk and take care of the chickens.'' 
 
 "Yes, but that's very different from this work. I wouldn't 
 hke people to think I expected such things of you." 
 
GIVEN HER OWN WAY. 223 
 
 "It's very easy work," she said, smilingly -easier than 
 sweeping a room, though something like it. L used to do it 
 at home when I was a girl. I think it does me good to do 
 something in the open air." 
 
 She was persisting, but not in a way that chafed him. 
 Indeed, as he looked into her appealing eyes and face 
 flushed with exercise, he felt that it would be churlish 
 to say another word. 
 
 "Well," he said, laughing, "it makes you look so young 
 and rosy I guess it does do you good. I suppose you'll 
 have to have your own way." 
 
 " You know I wouldn't do this or any thing else if you 
 really didn't want me to." 
 
 "You are keen," he replied, with his good-nature entirely 
 restored. " You can see that you get me right under your 
 thumb when you talk that way. But we must both be on 
 our guard against your fault, you know, or pretty soon you'll 
 be taking the whole work of the farm off my hands." 
 
 " To be serious," she resumed, accompanying him to the 
 barn for the first time, " I think you are working too hard. 
 I'm not. Our meals are so simple that it doesn't take me 
 long to get them. I'm through with the hurry in my sewing, 
 the old dog does the churning and you give me so much 
 help in the dairy that I shall soon have time on my hands. 
 Now, it seems to me that I might soon learn to take entire 
 care of the chickens, big and little, and that would be so 
 much less for you to look after. I'm sure I would enjoy it 
 very much, especially the looking after the little chickens." 
 
 " Do you really think you'd hke to do that?" he asked, 
 as he turned to her from unharnessing the horses. 
 
 "Yes, indeed, if you think I'm competent." 
 
 " You are more so than I am. Somehow, little chickens 
 don't thrive under a busy man's care. The mother hens 
 mean well, but they are so confoundedly silly. I declare 
 
224 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 to you that last year I Icist half the little chicks that were 
 hatched out." 
 
 " Well, then," she replied, laughing, " I won't be afraid to 
 try, for I think I can beat you in raising chickens. Now, show 
 me how much you feed them at night and how much I'm 
 to give them in the morning, and let me take the whole care 
 of them for a month, get the eggs, and all. If they don't 
 do so well, then I'll resign. I can't break you in a month." 
 
 " It looks more as if you'd make me. You have a good 
 big bump of order, and I haven't any at all in little things. 
 Tom Watterly was right. If I had tried to live here alone, 
 things would have got into an awful mess. I feel ashamed 
 of myself that I didn't clear up the yard before, but my 
 whole mind's been on the main crops." 
 
 "-As it should be. Don't you worry about the little things. 
 They belong to me. Now show me about the chickens, or 
 they'll go to roost while we're talking." 
 
 " But I, as well as the chickens, shall want some supper." 
 
 " I won't let either of you starve. . You'll see." 
 
 " Well, you see this little measure ? You fill it from this 
 bin with this mixture of corn and wheat screenings. That's 
 the allowance, morning and evening. Then you go out to 
 the barn-yard there and call ' kip, kip, kip.' That's the way 
 my wife used " — He stopped in a little embarrassment. 
 
 " I'd be glad if I could do every thing as she did," said 
 Alida, gently. " It has grown clearer every day how hard 
 her loss was to you. If you'll tell me what she did and how 
 she did things " — and she hesitated. . 
 
 "That's good of you, Alida," he replied, gratefully. 
 Then with his directness of speech he added, "I believe 
 some women are inclined to be jealous even of the dead." 
 
 " You need never fear to speak of your wife to me. I 
 respect and honor your feelings — the way you remember 
 her. There's no reason why it should be otherwise. I did 
 
GIVEN HER OWN WAY. 225 
 
 not agree to one thing and expect another," and she looked 
 him straight in the eyes. 
 
 He dropped them, as he stood leaning against the bin in 
 the shadowy old barn, and said, " I didn't tliink you or any 
 one would be so sensible. Of course one can't forget 
 quickly " — 
 
 " You oughtn't to forget," was the firm reply. " Why 
 should you? I should be sorry to think you could forget." 
 
 " I fear I'm not like to make you sorry," he replied, sigh- 
 ing. "To tell you the truth," he added, looking at her 
 almost commiseratingly, and then he hesitated. 
 
 " Well, the truth is usually best," she said, quietly. 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you my thought. We married in haste, 
 we were almost straiigers, and your mind was so distracted 
 at the time that I couldn't blame you if you forgot what — 
 what I said. I feared — wfeU, you are carrying out our 
 agreement so sensibly that I want to thank you. It's a 
 relief to find that you're not opposed, even in your heart, 
 that I should remember one that I knew as a little child and 
 inarried when I was young." 
 
 " I remember all you said and what I said," she replied, 
 with the same direct, honest gaze. " Don't let such thoughts 
 trouble you any more. You've been kinder and more con- 
 siderate than I ever expected. You have only to tell me 
 how she did " — 
 
 "No, Alida," he said, _quietly, obeying a subtile impulse. 
 " I'd rather you would do every thing your own way — as 
 it's natural for you. There, we've talked so long that it's 
 too late to feed the chickens to-night. You can begin in 
 the morning." 
 
 "Oh ! " she cried, "and you have all your other work to 
 do. I've hindered rather than helped you by coming out." 
 
 " No," he replied,- decidedly, " you've helped me. I'll be 
 in before very long." 
 
226 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 She returned to the house and busied herself in prepara- 
 tions for supper. She was very thoughtful, and at last con- 
 cluded, " Yes, he is right. I understand. Although I may- 
 do what his wife did, he don't wish me to do it as she did. 
 There could only be a partial and painful resemblance to 
 his eyes. Both he and I would suffer in comparisons and 
 he be continually reminded of his loss. She was his wife in 
 reality, and all relating to her is something sacred and past 
 to him. The less I am like her, the better. He married 
 me for the sake of his farm, and I can best satisfy him by 
 carrying out his purpose in my own way. He's through 
 with sentiment and has taken the kindest way he could to 
 tell me that I've nothing to do with his past. He feared, 
 •^ti,,\vt feared! should forget our business-like agreement! 
 I didn't know I had given him cause to fear, I certainly 
 won't hereafter ! " and the wife felt, with a trace of bitter- 
 ness and shame, thaf she had been put on her guard, that 
 her husband had wished to remind her that she must not 
 forget his motive in marrying her or expect any thing not in 
 consonance with that motive. Perhaps she had been too 
 wife-like in her manner and therefore he had feared. She 
 was as sensitive to such a reproach as she would have been 
 in her girlhood. 
 
 For once, her intuition was at fault and she misjudged 
 Holcroft in some respects. He did think he was through 
 with sentiment; he could not have talked deliberately to 
 Alida or to any other about his old life and love, and he 
 truly felt that she had no part in that life. It had become 
 a sad and sacred memory, yet he wished to feel -that he had 
 the right to dwell upon it as he chose. In his downright 
 sincerity, he wished her to know that he could not help 
 dwelling on it ; that for him some things were over and that 
 he was not to blame. He was profoundly grateful to her 
 that she had so clearly accepted the facts of his past, and 
 
GIVEN HER OWN WAY. 227 
 
 of their own present relations. He had feared, it is true, 
 but she had not realized his fears, and he felt that it was 
 her due that he should acknowledge her straightforward 
 carrying out of the compact made under circumstances 
 which might well excuse her from realizing every thing fully. 
 
 Moreover, direct and matter-of-fact as he was, he had felt 
 vaguely the inevitable difficulties of their relationship. The 
 very word "wife" might suggest to her mind an affection 
 which he believed it was not in his power to bestow. They 
 had agreed to give an arbitrary and unusual meaning to their 
 marriage, and, while thinking it could have no other meaning 
 for him, his mind was haunted, and he feared thaf hers 
 might be, by the natural significance of the rite. So far 
 from meaning to hint that she had been too wife-like, he 
 had meant to acknowledge her simple and natural fulfilment 
 of his wishes in a position far more difficult to fill than even 
 he imagined. That she succeeded so well was due to the 
 fact that she entertained for him all the kind feelings possi- 
 ble except the one supreme regard which under ordinary 
 circumstances would have accounted for the marriage. The 
 reason that all promised to go so well in their relationship 
 of mere mutual help was the truth that this basis of union 
 had satisfied their mutual need. As the farmer had hoped, 
 they had become excellent friends, supplementing each 
 other's work in a way that promised prosperity. 
 
 Without tKe least intention on the part of either, chance 
 Words had been spoken which would not be without effect. 
 He had told her to do every thing in her own way, because 
 the moment he thought of it he knew he liked her ways. 
 They possessed a novelty and natural grace which interested 
 him. There is both a natural and a conventional grace, and 
 the true lady learns to blend the one with the other so as 
 to make a charming manner essentially her own, — a manner 
 which makes a woman a lady the world over. Alida had 
 
228 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 little more than natural grace and refinement unmodified by 
 society. This the plain farmer could understand and he 
 was already awakening to an a^ppreciation of it. It impressed 
 him agreeably that Alida should be trim and neat while about 
 her work, and that all her actions were entirely free from the 
 coarse, slovenly manner, the limp carriage and slatternly 
 aspect of the whole tribe which had come and gone during 
 the past year. They had all been so riiuch alike in possess- 
 ing disagreeable traits that he felt that Ahda was the only 
 peculiar one among them. He never thought of instituting 
 cornparisohs between her and his former wife, yet he did so 
 unconsciously. Mrs. Holcroft had been too much like him- 
 self, matter-of-fact, materialistic, kind and good. Devoid 
 of imagination, uneducated in mind, her thoughts had not; 
 ranged far from what she touched and saw. She touched 
 them with something of their own heaviness, she saw them 
 as objects, — just what they were, — and was incapable of 
 obtaining from them much suggestion or enjoyment. She 
 knew when the cherry and plum trees were in*blossom just 
 as she knew it was April. The beautiful sounds and changes 
 in nature reminded her that it was time to do certain kinds 
 of work, and with her, work was alpha and omega. As her 
 mdther had before her, she was inclined to be a house-drudge 
 rather than a house-wife. Thrift, neatness, order, marked the 
 limits of her endeavor, and she accomplished her tasks with 
 the awkward, brisk directness learned in her mother's kitchen. 
 Only mind, imagination and refinement can embroider the 
 homely details of life. Alida would learn to do all that she 
 had done, but the woman with the finer nature would do 
 it in a different way. Holcroft already knew he liked this 
 way, although he could not define it to himself. Tired as 
 he was when he came home in the evening, his eyes would 
 often kindle with pleasure at some action or remark that 
 interested him from its novelty. In spite of his weariness 
 
GIVEN HER OWN WAY. 229 
 
 and pre-occupation, in spite of a still greater obstacle, — the 
 inertia of a mind dulled by material life, — he had begun 
 to consider Alida's personality for its own sake. He liked to 
 watch her, not to see what she did to his advantage, but 
 how she did it. She was awakening an agreeable expec- 
 tancy, and he sometimes smilingly said to himself, " What 
 next?" 
 
 " Oh, no," he thought, as he was milking the last cow, 
 " I'd much rather she'd take her own natural way in doing 
 things. It would be easier for her and it's her right and — 
 and somehow I like her way just as I used to like Bessie's 
 ways. She isn't Bessie and never can be, and for some 
 reason I'd hke her to be as different as possible." 
 
 Unconsciously and unintentionally, however,' he had given 
 Alida's sensitive nature a slight wound. She felt that she 
 had been told in effect, " You can help me all you please, 
 and I would rather you would do this in a way that will not 
 awaken associations, but you must not think of me or expect 
 me to think of you in any light that was not agreed upon." 
 That he had feared the possibility of this, that he might 
 have fancied he saw indications of this, hiirt her pride — 
 that pride and delicacy of feeling which most women shield 
 so instinctively. She was now consciously on her guard, 
 and so was not so secure against the thoughts she depre- 
 cated as before. Iri spite of herself, a restraint would tinge 
 her manner which he would eventually feel in a vague, 
 uncomfortable way. 
 
 But he came in at last, very tired and thoroughly good- 
 natured. "I'm going to town to-morrow," he said, "and I 
 thought of taking a very early start so as to save time. 
 Would you like to go?^' 
 
 "There's no need of my going." 
 
 " I thought perhaps you'd enjoy the drive." 
 
 " I would have to meet strangers and I'm so entirely 
 
230 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 content in being alone — I won't go this time unless you 
 wish it." 
 
 "Well, if you don't care about it I'll carry out my first 
 plan and take a very early start. I want to sell the butter 
 and eggs on hand, repay Tom Watterly and get some seeds. 
 We need some things from the store, too, I suppose?" 
 
 " Yes, you are such a coffee drinker " — she began, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Oh, I know," he interrupted. " Make out your list. 
 You shall say what we want. Isn't there something you 
 want for yourself? " 
 
 " No, not for myself, but I do want something that per- 
 haps you would enjoy, too. You may think it a waste of 
 money, though." 
 
 " Well, you've a right to waste some in your way as well 
 as I have over my pipe.-" 
 
 "That's good. I hadn't thought of that. You are the 
 one that puts notions into my head. I would like three or 
 four geraniums and a few flower seeds." 
 
 He looked as if he was thinking deeply and she felt a 
 little hurt that he should not comply at once with her 
 request, knowing that the outlay suggested was very slight. 
 
 At last, he looked up, smiling as he said, " So I put 
 notions into your head, do I ? " 
 
 " Oh, well," she replied, flushing in the consciousness of 
 her thoughts, " if you think it's foolish to spend mgney for 
 such things " — 
 
 " Tush ! tush ! Alida. Of course I'll get what you wish. 
 But I really am going to put a notion into your head, and 
 it's stupid and scarcely fair in me that I hadn't thought of 
 some such plan before. You want to take care of the chick- 
 ens. Well, I put them wholly in your care and you shall 
 have all you can make off them, — eggs, young chickens, and 
 every thing.'' 
 
GIVEN HER OWN WAY. 23 1 
 
 "That is a new notion," she replied, laughing. "I 
 hadn't thought of such 'a thing and it's more than fair. 
 What would I do with so much money? " 
 
 " What you please. Buy yourself silk dresses if you want 
 to." 
 
 " But I couldn't use a quarter of the money." 
 
 " No matter, use what you like and I'll put the rest in the 
 bank for you and in your name. I was a nice kind of a 
 business partner, wasn't I ? — expecting you to do nearly 
 half the work artd then have you say, ' Will you please get 
 me a few plants and seeds ? ' and then, ' Oh, if you think it's 
 foolish to spend money for such things.' Why, you have as 
 good a right to spend some of the money you help earn 
 as I have. You've shown you'll be sensible in spending it. 
 I don't believe you'll use enough of it. Any way, it will be 
 yours, as it ought to be." 
 
 " Very well," she replied, nodding at him with piquant 
 significance, " I'll always have some to lend you.'' 
 
 " Yes, shouldn't wonder if you were the richest some day. 
 Every thing you touch seems to turn out well. I shall be 
 wholly dependent on you hereafter for eggs and an occa- 
 sional fricassee." 
 
 " You shall have your share. Yes, I like this notion. It 
 grows on me. I'd like to earn some money to do what I 
 please with. You'll be surprised to see what strange and 
 extravagant tastes I'll develop ! " 
 
 " I expect to be perfectly dumbfoundered, as Mrs. Mump- 
 son used to say. Since you are so willing to lend, I'll lend 
 you enough to get all you want to-morrow. Make out your 
 list. You can get a good start to-morrow, for I was too tired 
 and it was too late for me to gather the eggs to-night. I 
 know, too, that a good many of the hens have stolen their 
 nests of late, and I've been too busy to look for 'era. You 
 may find perfect mines of eggs, but, for mercy's sake ! don't 
 
232 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 climb around in dangerous places. I had such bad luck 
 with chicks last year that I've only set a few hens. You 
 can set few or many now, just as you please." 
 
 Even as he talked and leisurely finished his supper, his 
 eyes grew heavy with sleep. " What time will you start 
 to-morrow ? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh, no matter ; long before you are up or ought to be. 
 I'll get myself a cup of coffee. I expect to do my morning 
 work and be back by nine or ten o'clock, for I wish to get 
 in some potatoes and other vegetables before Sunday." 
 
 " Very well, I'll make out my list and lay it on the table 
 here. Now, why don't you go and sleep at once? You 
 ought, with such an early start in prospect." 
 
 "Ought I? Well, I never felt more inclined to do my 
 duty. You must own up I have put one good notion into 
 your head ? " 
 
 " I have said nothing against any of them. Come, you 
 ought to go at once." 
 
 " Can't I smoke my pipe first, please? " 
 
 " You'll find it quieter in the parlor." 
 
 " But it's pleasanter here where I can watch you." 
 
 " Do you think I need watching? " 
 
 " Yes, a little^ since you don't look after your own interests 
 very sharply." 
 
 " It isn't my way to look after any thing very sharply." 
 
 " No, Alida, thank the I^rd ! There's nothing sharp 
 about yoii, not even your tongue. You won't mind being 
 left alone a few hours to-morrow? " 
 
 " No, indeed, I Uke to be alone." 
 
 " I thought I did. Most every one has seemed a crowd 
 to me. I'm glad you've never given me that feeling. Well, 
 good-by till you see me driving up with the geraniums." 
 
A CHARIVARI. 233 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A CHARIVARI. 
 
 THE eastern horizon was aglow with rosy tints the follow- 
 ing morning when Holcroft awoke ; the stars were but 
 just fading from the sky and the birds were still silent. He 
 knew by these signs that it was very early and that he could 
 carry out his plan of a timely start to town. Dressing very 
 quietly, he stole down stairs, shoes in hand, lest his tread 
 should awaken Alida. The- kitchen door leading into the 
 hall was closed. Lifting the latch carefully, he found the 
 lamp burning, the breakfast table set and the kettle hum- 
 ming over a good fire. " This is her work, but where is 
 she?" he queried in much surprise. 
 
 The outer door was ajar ; he noiselessly crossed the room, 
 and looking out, he saw her. She had been to the well for 
 a pail of water, but had set it down and was watching the 
 swiftly brightening east. She was so still and her face so 
 white in the faint radiance that he had an odd, uncanny im- 
 pression. No woman that he had ever known would stop 
 that way to look at the dawn. He could see nothing so 
 peculiar in it as to attract such fixed attention. " Alida," 
 he asked, " what do you see ? " 
 
 She started slightly and turned to take up the pail ; but 
 he had already sprung down the steps and relieved her of 
 the burden. 
 
 "Could any thing be more lovely than those changing 
 tints? It seems to me I could have stood there an hour," 
 she said, quietly. 
 
234 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " You are not walking or doing all this in your sleep, are 
 you ? " he asked, laughing, yet regarding her curiously. " You 
 looked as you stood there like what people call a — what's 
 that big word?" 
 
 " I'm not a somnambulist and never was, to my knowledge. 
 You'll find I'm wide enough awake to have a good breakfast 
 soon." 
 
 " But I didn't expect you to get up so early. I didn't 
 wish it." 
 
 " It's too late now," she said, pleasantly, " so I hope you 
 won't find fault with me for doing what I wanted to do." 
 
 " Did you mean to be up and have breakfast when I told 
 you last night?" 
 
 " Yes. Of course I didn't let you know, for you would 
 have said I mustn't, and then I couldn't. It isn't good for 
 people to get up so early and do as much as you had on 
 your mind without eating. Now you won't be any the worse 
 for it." 
 
 " I certainly ought to be the better for so much kindly 
 consideration ; but it will cure me of such unearthly hours 
 if you feel that you must conform to them. You look pale 
 this morning, Alida ; you're not strong enough to do such 
 things, and there's no need of it when I'm so used to wait- 
 ing on myself." 
 
 " I shall have to remind you," she replied, with a bright 
 look at him over her shoulder, " that you said I could do 
 things my own way." 
 
 "Well, it seems odd after a year when every one who 
 came here appeared to grudge doing a thing for a man's 
 comfort." > 
 
 " I should hope I was different from them." 
 
 " Well, you are. I thought you were different from any 
 one I ever knew as I saw you there looking at the east. You 
 seem wonderfully fond of pretty things." 
 
A CHARIVARI. 23 S 
 
 " I'll own to that. But if you don't hurry you won't do 
 as much as you hoped by getting up early.'' 
 
 The morning was very mild and she left the outer door 
 open as she went quickly to and fro with elasticity of spirit 
 as well as step. It was pleasant to have her efforts appre- 
 ciated and almost as grateful to hear the swelling harmony 
 of song from the awakening birds. The slight cloud that 
 had fallen on her thoughts the evening before had lifted. 
 She felt that she understood Holcroft better, and saw that 
 his feeling was only that of honest friendliness and satisfac- 
 tion. She had merely to recognize and respond to so much 
 only and all would be well. Meantime, she desired nothing 
 more, and he should be thoroughly convinced of this fact. 
 She grew positively light-hearted over the fuller assurance 
 of the truth that although a wife, she was not expected to 
 love. — only to be faithful to all his interests. This, and this 
 only, she believed to be within her power. 
 
 Holcroft departed in the serenity characteristic of one's 
 mood when the present is so agreeable that neither memo- 
 ries of the past nor misgivings as to the future are obtrusive. 
 He met Watterly in town, and remarked, " This is another 
 piece of good luck. I hadn't time to go out to your place, 
 although I meant to take time." 
 
 " A piece of good luck indeed ! " Tom mentally echoed, 
 for he would have been greatly embarrassed if Holcroft had 
 called. Mrs. Watterly felt that she had been scandalized by 
 the marriage which had taken place in her absence, and was 
 all the more resentful for the reason that she had spoken to 
 a cousin of uncertain age and still more uncertain temper in 
 behalf of the farmer. In Mrs. Watterly's estimate of action, 
 it was either right, that is, in accordance with her views, or 
 else it was intolerably wrong and without excuse. Poor 
 Tom had been made to feel that he had not only committed 
 an almost unpardonable sin against his wife and her cousin, 
 
236 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 but also against all the proprieties of life. " The idea of 
 such a wedding taking place in my rooms and with my hus- 
 band's sanction ! " she had said with concentrated bitterness. 
 Then had followed what he was accustomed to characterize 
 as a spell of " zero weather." He discreetly said nothing. 
 " It didn't seem such a bad idea to me," he thought, " but 
 then I suppose women folks know best about such things." 
 
 He was too frank in his nature to conceal from Holcroft 
 his misgivings or his wife's scornful and indignant disap- 
 proval. " Sorry Angy feels so bad about it, Jim," he said, 
 ruefully, " but she says I mustn't buy any thing more of you." 
 
 " Or have any thing more to do with me, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Oh, come now. You know a man's got to let hfs 
 women- folks have their say about household matters, but 
 that don't make any difference in my feelings towards you." 
 
 "Well, well, Tom, if it did, I should be slow to quarrel 
 with a man who had done me as good a turn as you have. 
 Thank the Lord ! I've got a wife that'll let me have some 
 say about household and all other matters. You, too, are 
 inclined to think that I'm in an awful scrape. I feel less 
 like getting out of it every day. My wife is as respectable 
 as I am and a good sight better than I am. If I'm no 
 longer respectable for having rriarried her, I certainly am 
 better contented than I ever expected to be again. I want 
 it understood, though, that the man who says any thing 
 against my wife may have to get me arrested for assault 
 and battery." 
 
 "When it comes to that, Jim," replied Watterly, who was 
 meek only in the presence of his wife, "I'd just as lief speak 
 against her as wink if there was any thing to say. But I say 
 now, as I said to you at first, she ain't one of the common 
 sort. I thought well of her at first and I think better of 
 her now since she's doing so well by you. But I' suppose 
 marrying a woman situated as she was isn't according to 
 
A CHARIVARI. 237 
 
 regulation. We men are apt to act like the boys we used 
 to be and go for what we want without thinking of the con- 
 sequences." 
 
 " It's the consequences that please me most. If you had 
 been dependent on Mumpsons, Malonys and ^\'igginses for 
 }our home comfort you wouldn't worry about the talk of 
 people who'd never raise a finger for you. Well, good-by, 
 I'm in a hurry. Your heart's in the right place, Tom, and 
 some day you'll come out and take dinner with me. One 
 dinner, such as she'll give you, will bring you round. One 
 of our steady dishes is a bunch of flowers and I enjoy 'em, 
 too. AMiat do you think of that for a hard-headed old 
 fellow like me?" 
 
 Some men are chilled by public disapproval and waver 
 under it, but Holcroft was thereby only the more strongly 
 confirmed in his course. Alida had won his esteem as well 
 as his good-will, and it was the instinct of his manhood 
 to protect and champion her. He bought twice as many 
 flowers and seeds as she had asked for, and also selected 
 two simple flower vases, then started on hi^ return with the 
 feeling that he had a home. 
 
 Alida entered upon her duties to the poultry with almost 
 the pleasure of a child. She first fed them, then explored 
 every accessible nook and hiding-place in the barn and out- 
 buildings. It was evident that many of the biddies had 
 stolen their nests and some were brooding upon them with 
 no disposition to be disturbed. Out of the hundred or more 
 fowls on the place, a good many were clucking their maternal 
 instincts, and their new keeper resolved to 'put eggs under 
 all except the flighty ones that left their nests within two or 
 three days' trial. As the result of her search, the empty 
 egg-basket was in a fair way to be full again very soon. She 
 gloated over her spoils as she smilingly assured herself, " I 
 shall take him at his word. I shall spend nearly all I make 
 
238 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 this year in fixing up the old house within and without, so 
 he'll scarcely know it." 
 
 It was eleven o'clock before Holcroft drove to the door 
 with the flowers, and he was amply repaid by her pleasure 
 in receiving them. " Why, I only expected geraniums," she 
 said, " and you've bought half a dozen other kinds." 
 
 "And I expected to get my own coffee this morning and 
 a good breakfast was given me instead, so we are quits." 
 
 " You're probably ready for your dinner now, if it is an 
 hour earlier than usual. It will be ready in ten minutes." 
 
 " Famous ! That will give me a good long afternoon. I 
 say, Alida, when do you want the flower-beds made? " 
 
 " No hurry about them. I shall keep the plants in the 
 window for a week or two. It isn't safe to put them out- 
 doors before the last of May. I'll have some slips ready 
 by that time." 
 
 " Yes,' I know. You'll soon have enough to set out an 
 acre.'' 
 
 The days of another week passed quietly and rapidly 
 away, Alida becoming almost as much absorbed in her 
 interests as he in his. Every hour added to the beauty of 
 the season without. The unploughed fields were taking on 
 a vivid green and Holcroft said that on the following Mon- 
 day the cows should go out to pasture. Wholesome, agree- 
 able occupation enabled Alida to put away sad thoughts and 
 memories. Nature and pleasant work are two potent healers, 
 and she was rallying fast under their ministry. Holcroft 
 would have been blind indeed had he not observed changes 
 for the better, ^er thin cheeks were becoming fuller, and 
 her -exertions, with the increasing warmth of the season, 
 often flushed her face with a charming color. The old sad 
 and troubled expression was passing away from her blue 
 eyes. Every day it seemed easier for her to laugh, and her 
 step grew more elastic. It was all so gradual that he never 
 
A CHARIVAJil. 239 
 
 questioned it, but his eyes followed her with increasing 
 pleasure and he listened when she spoke, with deepening 
 interest. Sundays had been long and rather dreary days, 
 but now he positively welcomed their coming and looked 
 forward to the hours when instead of brooding over the 
 past, he should listen to her -pleasant voice reading his few 
 and neglected books. There was a new atmosphere in his 
 home — a new influence, under which his mind was awaken- 
 ing in spite of his weariness and absorption in the interests 
 of the farm. Alida was always ready to talk about these, 
 and her questions would soon enable her to talk understand- 
 ingly. She displayed ignorance enough, and this amused 
 him, but her queries evinced no stupidity. In reading to 
 her father and in the cultivation of flowers, she had obtained 
 hints of vital horticultural principles, and Holcroft said to 
 her laughingly one evening at supper, " You'll soon learn all 
 I know and begin to teach me." 
 
 Her manner of deprecating such remarks was to exaggerate 
 them and she replied, " Yes, next week you will sell my eggs 
 and I shall subscribe for the agricultural paper- ray father 
 used to take. Then will begin all the improvements of 
 book-farming. I shall advise you to sow oats in June, plant 
 corn in March and show you generally that all your experi- 
 ence counts for nothing.'' 
 
 This kind of badinage was jiew to the farmer and it 
 amused him immensely. He did not grow sleepy so early 
 in the evening, and as he was driving his work prosperously 
 he shortened his hours of labor slightly. She also found 
 time to read the county paper and gossip a little about the 
 news, thus making a beginning in putting him and herself 
 en rapport with other interests than those which centred in 
 the farm. In brief, she had an active, intelligent mind and 
 a companionable nature. Her boundless gratitude for her 
 home, which daily grew more home-like, led her to employ 
 
240 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 all her tact in adding to his enjoyment. Yet so fine was her 
 tact that her manner was a simple embodiment of goodwill, 
 and he was made to feel that it was nothing more. 
 
 While all was passing so genially and satisfactorily to 
 Holcroft, it may well be supposed that his conduct was not 
 at all to the mind of his neighbors. News, especially during 
 the busy spring season, permeates a country neiglijDorhood 
 slowly. The fact of his marriage had soon become known, 
 and eventually, through Justice Harkins, the circumstances 
 relating to it and something of Alida's previous history, in a 
 garbled form, came, to be discussed at rural firesides. The 
 majority of the men laughed and shrugged their shoulders, 
 implying it was none of their business, but' not a few, among 
 whom was Lemuel Weeks, held up their hands- and spoke 
 of the event in terms of the severest reprehension. Many 
 of the farmers' wives and their maiden sisters were quite as 
 much scandalized as Mrs. Watterly had been, that an un- 
 known woman, of whom strange stories were told, should 
 have been brought into the community from the poor-house, 
 " and after such a heathenish marriage, too," they said. It 
 was irregular, unprecedented and therefore utterly wrong 
 and subversive of the morals of the town. They longed to 
 ostracise poor Alida, yet saw no chance of doing so. They 
 could only talk, and talk they did, in a way that would have 
 made her ears tingle had she heard. 
 
 The young men and older boys, however, believed that 
 they could do more than talk. Timothy Weeks had said to 
 a group of his familiars, " Let's give old Holcroft and his 
 poor-house bride a skimelton that will let 'em know what 
 folks think of 'em." 
 
 The scheme found favor at once, and Tim Weeks was soon 
 recognized as organizer and leader of the peculiar style of 
 serenade contemplated. After his day's work was over, he 
 rode here and there summoning congenial spirits. The 
 
A CHARIVARI. 24I 
 
 project soon became pretty well known in several families, 
 but the elder members remained discreetly blind and deaf, 
 proposing to wink at what was going on, yet take no com- 
 promising part themselves. Lemuel Weeks winked very 
 knowingly and suggestively. He kept within such bounds, 
 however, as would enable him to swear that he knew nothing 
 and had said nothing, but his son had never felt more assured 
 of his father's sympathy. When at last the motley gathering 
 rendezvoued at Tim's house. Weeks senior was conveniently 
 making a call on a near neighbor. 
 
 It was Saturday evening and the young May moon would 
 furnish sufficient light without revealing identity too clearly. 
 About a score of young fellows and hired farm-hands of the 
 ruder sort came riding and. trudging to Weeks's barn where 
 there was a barrel of cider on tap. Here they blackened 
 their faces with charcoal and stimulated their courage, for 
 it was well known that Holcroft was any thing but lamb-like 
 when angered. 
 
 " He'U be like a bull in a china shop," remarked Tim, 
 " but then there's enough of us to handle him if he gets too 
 obstrep'rous." 
 
 Armed with tin pans and horns which were to furnish the 
 accompaniment to their discordant voices, they started about 
 eight in the evening. As they moved up the road, there 
 was a good deal of coarse jesting and bravado, but when 
 they approached the farmhouse silence was enjoined. After 
 passing up the lane they looked rather nervously at the quiet 
 dwelling softly outlined in the moonlight. A lamp illumined 
 the kitchen window, and. Tim Weeks whispered excitedly, 
 " He's there. Let's first peek in the window and then give 
 'em a scorcher." 
 
 Knowing that they should have the coming day in which 
 to rest, Holcroft and Alida had busied themselves with out- 
 door matters until late. She had been planning her flower- 
 
242 HE FELL LN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 beds, cutting out the dead wood from some neglected 
 rose-bushes and shrubbery, and had also helped her husband 
 by sowing seed in the kitchen garden back of the house. 
 Then, weary, yet pleased with the labor accomplished, they 
 made a very leisurely supper, talking over garden matters 
 and farm prospects in general. Alida had all her flower- 
 seeds on 'the table beside her and she gloated over them and 
 expatiated on the kind of blossoms they would produce 
 with so much zest that Holcroft laughingly remarked, " I 
 never thought that flowers would be one of, the most impor- 
 tant crops on the place." 
 
 " You will think so some day. I can see from the expres- 
 sion of your eyes that the cherry ^jlossoms and now the 
 apple blows which I put on the table please you almost as 
 much as the fruit would." 
 
 "Well, it's because I notice 'em. I never seemed to 
 notice 'em much before." 
 
 " Oh, no, it's more than that," she replied, shaking her 
 head. - " Some people would notice them, yet never see how 
 pretty they were." 
 
 " Then they'd be bhnd as jnoles." 
 
 " The worst kind of blindness is that of the mind." 
 
 "Well, I think many country people are as stupid and 
 blind as oxen, and I was one of 'em, I've seen more 
 cherry and apple blossoms this year than in all my life 
 before, and I haven't thought only of cherries and apples 
 either." 
 
 "The habit of seeing what is pretty grows on one," she 
 resumed. " It seems to me that flowers and such things 
 feed mind and heart. So if one has, mind .and heart, flowers 
 become one of the most useful crops. Isn't that practical 
 common-sense ? " 
 
 " Not very common in Oakville. I'm glad you think I'm 
 in a hopeful frame of mind, as they used to say down at the 
 
A CHARIVARI. Z/^l 
 
 meeting-house. Any how, since you wish it, we will have 
 a flower crop as well as a potato crop." 
 
 Thus they continued chatting while Alida cleared up the 
 table, and Holcroft, having lighted his pipe, busied himself 
 with peeling a long, shm hickory sapling intended for a whip- 
 stock. 
 
 Having finished her tasks, Alida was finally drying her 
 hands on a towel that hung near a window. Suddenly, she 
 caught sight of a dark face peering in. Her startled cry 
 brought Holcroft hastily to his feet. " What's the matter? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " I saw " — Then she hesitated from a fear that he would 
 rush into some unknown danger. 
 
 The rough crew without perceived that their presence was 
 known, and Tim Weeks cried, " Now, all together." 
 
 A frightful overture began at once, the hooting amd yell- 
 ing almost drowning the instrumental part and sending to 
 Alida's heart that awful chill of fear produced by human 
 voices in any mob-like assemblage. Holcroft understood 
 the affair at once, for he was familiar with the custom, but 
 she did not. He threw open the door with the purpose of 
 sternly expostulating with the disturbers of the peace and 
 of threatening them with the law unless they retired. With 
 an instinct to share his danger she stepped to his side, 
 and this brought a yell of derision. Lurid thoughts swept 
 through her mind. She had brought this danger. Her story 
 had become known. What might they not do to Holcroft? 
 Under the impulse of vague terror and complete self-sacrifice, 
 she stepped forward and cried, " I only am to blame, I 
 will go away forever if you will spare " — But again the scorn- 
 ful clamor rose and drowned her voice. 
 
 Her action and words had been so swift that Holcroft 
 could not .interfere, but in an instant he was at her side, his 
 arm around her, his square jaw set, and his eyes blazing with 
 
244 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 his kindling anger. He was not one of those men who fume 
 early under provocation and in words chiefly. His manner 
 and gesture were so impressive that his tormentors paused 
 to Usten. 
 
 "I know," he said, quietly, "all about this old, rude cus- 
 tom — that it's often Httle more than a rough lark. Well, 
 now that you've had it, leave at once. I'm in no mood 
 for such attention from my neighbors. This is my wife, and 
 I'll break any man's head who says a word to hurt her feel- 
 ings " — 
 
 " Oh, yes, take care of her feelings, now it's your turn. 
 They must 'o been hurt before," piped up Tim Weeks. 
 
 " Good for you, old man, for showin' us your poor-house 
 bride," said another. 
 
 " We don't fancy such grass -widders, and much married, 
 half- married, women in Oakville," yelled a third. 
 
 " Why didn't yer jump over a broomstick for a weddin' 
 ceremony?" some one else bawled. 
 
 These insults were fired almost in a volley. Alida felt 
 Holcroft's arm grow rigid for a second. " Gq in, quick," he 
 said. Then she saw him seize the hickory sapling he had 
 leaned against the house, and burst upon the group Hke a 
 thumderbolt. Cries of pain, yells and oaths of rage rose 
 above the rain of blows. The older members of the crew 
 sought to close upon him, but he sprung back, and the tough 
 sapling swept about him like a circle of light. It was a 
 terriiic weapon in the hands of a strong man, now possessed 
 of almost giant strength in his rage. More than one fellow 
 went down under its stinging cut, and heads and faces were 
 bleeding. The younger portion of the crowd speedily took 
 to their heels, and soon even the most stubborn fled, the 
 farmer vigorously assisting their ignominious retreat with 
 tremendous downward Hows on any within reach. Tim 
 Weeks had managed to keep out of the way till they entered 
 
A CHARIVARI. 345 
 
 the lane; then, taking a small stone from the fence, he 
 hurled it at their pursuer and attempted to jump over the 
 wall. This was old and gave way under him in such a way 
 that he fell on the other side. Holcroft leaped the fence 
 with a bound, but Tim, lying on his back, shrieked and held 
 up his hands. "You won't hit a feller when he's down." 
 
 " No," said Holcroft, arresting his hickory. " I'll send 
 you to jail, Tim Weeks. That stone you fired cut my head. 
 Was your father in that crowd? " 
 
 " N-o-o," blubbered Tim. 
 
 " If he was, I'd follow him home, and whip him in his own 
 house. Now, clear out, and tell the rest of your rowdy crew 
 that I'll shoot the first one of you that' disturbs me again. 
 I'll send the constable for you, and maybe for some of the 
 others.'' 
 
 Dire was the dismay, and dreadful the groaning in Oakville 
 that night. Never before had salves and poultices been in 
 such demand. Not a few would be disfigured for weeks, 
 and wherever Holcroft's blows had fallen welts arose like 
 whipcords. In Lemuel Weeks's dwelling the consternation 
 reached its climax. Tim, bruised from his fall, limped in 
 and told his portentous story. In his spite, he added, " I 
 don't care, I hit him hard. His face was all bloody." 
 
 "All bloody!" groaned his father. "Lord a' mercy! 
 He can send you to jail, sure enough I " 
 
 Then Mrs. AVeeks sat down and wailed aloud. 
 
246 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE: 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " YOU don't know." 
 
 As Timothy Weeks limped hastily away, Holcroft, with a 
 strong revulsion of feeling, thought of AUda. He liad 
 been able to answer insults in a way eminently satisfactory 
 to himself and every blow had relieved his electrical condi- 
 tion. But how about the poor woman who had received 
 worse blows than he had inflicted ? As he hastened towards 
 the house he recalled a dim impression of seeing her sink 
 down on the doorstep. Then he remembered her effort to 
 face the marauders alone. " She said she was to blame, 
 poor child ! as if there were any blame at all ! She said, 
 'spare him,' as if I was facing a band of murderers instead 
 of a lot of neighborhood scamps, and that she'd go away. 
 I'd fight all Oakville, men, women and children, before I'd 
 permit that," and he started on a run. 
 
 He found Alida on the step where she had sunk as if 
 struck down by the rough epithets hurled at her. ' She was 
 sobbing violently, almost hysterically, and at first could not 
 reply to his soothing words. He lifted her up, and half 
 carried her within to a chair. "Oh, oh," she cried, "why 
 did I not realize it more fully before ? selfish woman that I 
 was, to marry you 'and bring on you all this shame and 
 danger. I should have thought of it all, I ought to have 
 died rather than do you such a wrong." 
 
 " Alida, Ahda," protested Holcroft, " if it were all to do 
 over again I'd be a thousand times more " — 
 
 " Oh, I know, I know. You are brave and generous and 
 
" YOU DON'T KNOW." 247 
 
 honest. I saw that much when you first spoke to me. I 
 yielded to the temptation to secure such a friend ; I was too 
 cowardly to face the world alone. And now see what's 
 happened ! You're in danger and disgrace on my account. 
 I must go away — I must do what I should have done at 
 first," and witli her face buried in her hands she rocked back 
 and forth overwhelmed by the bitterness and reproach of 
 her thoughts. 
 
 " Ahda," he urged, " please be calm and sensible. Let me 
 reason with you and tell you the truth. All that's happened 
 is that the Oakville cubs have received a well-deserved whip- 
 ping. ^^'hen you get calm, I can explain every thing so it 
 won't seem half so bad. Neither you nor I are in any 
 danger, and as for your going away, look me in the eyes and 
 listen." 
 
 His words were almost stern in their earnestness. She 
 raised her streaming eyes to his face, then sprung up, 
 exclaiming, " Oh ! you're wounded ! " 
 
 "What's that compared with your talk of going away? " 
 
 All explanations and re-assurances would have been trivial 
 in effect compared with the truth that he had been hurt in 
 her defence. She dashed her tears right and left, ran for a 
 basin of water, and making him take her chair, began washing 
 away the blood stains. 
 
 " Thunder ! " he said, laughing, " how quickly we've 
 changed places ! " 
 
 "Oh, oh," she moaned, "it's a terrible wound; it might 
 have killed you, and they will kill you yet." 
 
 He took her hands and held them firmly. "Alida,"he 
 said, gravely yet kindly, " be still and listen to me." 
 
 For a moment or two longer, her bosom heaved with 
 convulsive sobs and then she grew quiet. " Don't you 
 know you can't go away?" he asked, still retaining her 
 hands and looking in her face. 
 
248 BE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS. WIFE. 
 
 " I could for your sake," she began. 
 
 " No, it wouldn't be for my sake. I don't wish you to 
 go, and wouldn't let you. If you should let the Oakville 
 rabble drive you away I would be in danger, and so would 
 others, for I'd be worse on 'em than an earthquake. After 
 the lesson they've had to-night, they'll let us alone, and I'll 
 let them alone. You know I've tried to be honest with you 
 from the first. Believe me, then, the trouble's over, unless 
 we make more for ourselves. Now, promise you'll do as I 
 say and let me manage." 
 
 " I'll try," she breathed softly. 
 
 " No, no, that won't do. I'm beginning to find you out. 
 You may get some foolish, self-sacrificing notion in your 
 head that it would be best for me, when it would be my 
 ruination. Will you promise? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Famous ! Now you can bathe my head all you please, 
 for it feels a little queer." 
 
 " It's an awful wound," she said in tones of the deepest 
 sympathy. " Oh ! I'm so sorry." 
 
 " Pshaw ! my head is too hard for that little scamp of a 
 Weeks to break. His turn'll come next.'' 
 
 She cut away the blood-clotted hair and bound up the 
 rather severe scalp wound with a tenderness and sympathy 
 that e)tpressed itself even in her touch. She was too con- 
 fused and excited to be conscious of herself, but she had 
 received some tremendously strong impressions. Chief 
 among them was the truth that nothirig which had happened 
 made any difference in him — that he was still the same 
 loyal friend, standing between her and the world she 
 dreaded, — yes, between her and her own impulses towards 
 self-sacrifice. Sweetest of all was the assurance that he did 
 this for his own sake as well as hers. These facts seemed 
 like a foothold in the mad torrent of feeling and shame 
 
" you DOX'T KNO]V." 249 
 
 which had been sweeping her away. She could think of 
 little more than that she was safe — safe because he was brave 
 and loyal, and yes, safe because he wanted her and would 
 not give her up. The heart of a woman must be callous 
 indeed, and her nature not only trivial but stony, if she is 
 not deeply touched under circumstances like these. 
 
 In spite of his laughing contempt of danger, she trembled 
 as she saw him ready to go out again ; she wished to accom- 
 pany him on his round of obsei-vation, but he scouted the 
 idea, although it pleased him. Standing in the door, she 
 strained her eyes and listened breathlessly. He soon re- 
 turned and said, " They've all had enough. We won't be 
 disturbed again." 
 
 He saw that her nerves needed quieting, and he set about 
 the task with such simple tact as he possessed. His first 
 step was to light his pipe in the most nonchalant manner, 
 and then he burst out laughing. " I'll hang that hickory up. 
 It has done too good service to be put to common use again. 
 Probably you never heard of a skimelton, Alida. Well, they 
 are not so uncommon in this region. I suppose I'll have to 
 own up to taking part in one myself when I was a young 
 chap. They usually are only rough larks and are taken 
 good-naturedly. I'm not on jesting terms with my neigh- 
 bors and they had no business to come here, but I wouldn't 
 have made any row if they hadn't insulted you." 
 
 Her head bowed very low as she faltered, " They've heard 
 every thing." 
 
 He came right to her and took her hand. " Didn't I 
 hear every thing before they did? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, Alida, I'm not only satisfied with you, but I'm very 
 grateful to you. Why shouldn't I be when you are a good, 
 Christian woman? I guess I'm the .one to be suited, not 
 Oakville. I should be as reckless as the devil if you should 
 
 iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 
 
2SO HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 go away from me. Don't I act like a man who's ready to 
 stand up for and protect you?" 
 
 " Yes, too ready. It would kill me if any thing happened 
 to you on my account." 
 
 "Well, the worst would happen," he said, firmly, "if we 
 don't go right on as we've begun. If we go quietly on about 
 our own affairs, we'll soon be let alone and that's all we 
 ask." 
 
 "Yes, yes indeed. Don't worry, James. I'll do as you 
 wish." 
 
 "Famous! You never said 'James ' to me before. Why 
 haven't you?" 
 
 " I don't know," she faltered, with a sudden rush of color 
 to her pale face. 
 
 " Wellj that's my name," he resumed, laughing. " I guess 
 it's because we are getting better acquainted." 
 
 She looked up and said, impetuously, " You don't know 
 how a woman feels when a man stands up for her as you did 
 to-night." 
 
 " Well, I know how a man feels when there is a woman 
 so well worth standing up for. It was a lucky thing that I 
 had nothing heavier in my hand than that hickory." All 
 the while he was looking at her curiously ; then he spoke 
 his thought, " You're a quiet, little woman, Alida, most 
 times, but you're capable of a thunder-gust now and then." 
 
 " I'll try to be quiet at all tinies," she replied, with droop- 
 ing eyes. 
 
 " Oh, I'm not complaining," he said, laughing, " I like 
 the trait." 
 
 He took a small pitcher and went to the dairy. Return- 
 ing, he poured out two glasses of milk and said, " Here's to 
 your health and happiness, Alida ; and when I don't stand 
 up for the woman who started out to save, me from a mob 
 of murderers, may the next thing I eat or drink choke me. 
 
" YOU DdN'T KNOW." 251 
 
 You didn't know they were merely a lot of Oakville boys, 
 did you ? " 
 
 " You can't make so light of it," said she. "They tried 
 to close on you, and if that stone had struck you on the 
 temple, it might have killed you. They swore like pirates, 
 and looked like ruffians with their blackened- faces. They 
 certainly were not boys in appearance." 
 
 " I'm afraid I swore too," he said, sadly. 
 
 "You had some excuse, but I'm sorry. They would have 
 hurt you if you hadn't kept them off." 
 
 " Yes, they'd probably given me a beating. People do 
 things in hot blood they wish they hadn't afterwards. I 
 know this Oakville rough-scuff. Since we've had it out, and 
 they know what to expect, they'll give me a wide berth. 
 Now go and sleep. You were never safer in your hfe." 
 
 She did not trust herself to reply, but the glance she gave 
 him from her tearful eyes was so eloquent with grateful feel- 
 ing that he was suddenly conscious of s' le unwonted sen- 
 sations. He again patrolled the plac: and tied the dog 
 near the barn. 
 
 " It's barely possible that some of these mean cusses 
 might venture to kindle a fire, but a bark from Towser will 
 warn 'em off. She is a spirited little woman," he added, 
 with a sharp change in soliloquy. "There's nothing milk 
 and water about her. Thunder ! I felt like kissing her when 
 she looked at me so. I guess that crack on my skull has 
 made me a little light-headed." 
 
 He lay down in his clothes so that he might rush out in 
 case of any alarm, and he intended to keep awake. Then, 
 the first thing he knew, the sun was shining in thewindows. 
 
 It was long before Alida slept, and the burden of het 
 thoughts confirmed the words that she had spoken so in- 
 voluntarily. " You don't know how a woman feels wheti a 
 man stands up for her as you did." It is the nature of her 
 
252 HE FELL I/^ LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 sex to adore hardy, courageous manhood. Beyond all 
 power of expression, Alida felt her need of a champion and 
 protector. She was capable of going away for his sake, but 
 she would go in terror and despair. The words that had 
 smitten her confirmed all her old fears of facing the world 
 alone. Then came the overpowering thought of his loyalty 
 and kindness, of his utter and almost fierce repugnance to 
 the idea of her leaving him. In contrast with the man who 
 had deceived and wronged her, Holcroft's course over- 
 whelmed her very soul with a passion of grateful affection. 
 A new emotion, unlike any thing she had ever known, 
 thrilled her heart and covered her face with blushes. " I 
 could die for him," she murmured. 
 
 She awoke late in the morning. When at last she entered 
 the kitchen she stopped in deep chagrin, for Holcroft had 
 almost completed preparations for breakfast. " Ha, ha ! " 
 he laughed, " turn about is fair play." 
 
 " Well," she sighed, " there's no use of making excuses 
 now." 
 
 " There's no occasion for any. Did you ever see such a 
 looking case as I am with this bandage around my head?" 
 
 "Does it pain you?" she asked, sympathetically. 
 
 "Well, it does. It pains like thunder." 
 
 " The wound needs dressing again. Let me cleanse and 
 bind it up." 
 
 " Yes, after breakfast." 
 
 "No, indeed, now. I couldn't eat any breakfast while 
 you were suffering so." 
 
 " I'm more unfeeling then than you are, for I could." 
 
 She insisted on having her way and then tore up her 
 handkerchief to supply a soft linen bandage. 
 
 "You're extravagant, Alida," but she only shook her 
 head. 
 
 " Famous ! That feels b'etter. What a touch you have ! 
 
" YOU DON'T KNOW." 253 
 
 Now if you had a broken head my fingers would be like a 
 pair of tongs." 
 
 She only shook her head and smiled. 
 
 "You're as bad as Jane used to be. She never said a 
 word when she could shake or nod her meaning.'' 
 
 "I should think you would be glad, after having been 
 half talked to death by her mother." 
 
 " As I said before, take your own way of doing things. It 
 seems the right way after it is done." 
 
 A faint color came into her face and she looked positively 
 happy as she sat down to breakfast. " Are »you sure your 
 head feels better?" she asked. 
 
 " Yes, and you look a hundred per cent better. Well, I 
 am glad you had such a good sleep after all the hubbub." 
 
 " I didn't sleep till towards morning," she said, with down- 
 cast eyes.'' 
 
 "- Pshaw ! that's too bad. Well, no matter, you look like 
 a different person from what you did when I first saw you. 
 You've been growing younger every day." 
 
 Her face flushed like a girl's under his direct, admiring 
 gaze, making her all the more pretty. She hastened to 
 divert direct attention from herself by asking, "You haven't 
 heard from any one this morning?" 
 
 " No, but I guess the doctor has. Some of those fellows 
 will have to keep shady for a while." 
 
 As they were finishing breakfast, Holcroft looked out of 
 the open kitchen door and exclaimed, " By thunder ! we're 
 going to hear from some of them now. Here comes Mrs. 
 Weeks, the mother of the fellow who hit me." 
 
 "Won't you please receive her in the parlor?" 
 
 " Yes, she won't stay long, you may be sure. I'm going 
 to give that Weeks tribe one lesson and pay off the whole 
 score." 
 
 He merely bowed coldly to Mrs. Weeks's salutation and 
 
254 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 offered her a chair. The poor woman took out her handkerr 
 chief and began to mop her eyes, but Holcroft was steeled 
 against her, not so much on account of the wound inflicted 
 by her son as for the reason that he saw in her an accom- 
 plice with her husband in the fraud of Mrs. Mumpson. , 
 
 " I hope you're not badly hurt," she began. 
 
 " It might be worse." 
 
 " O Mr. Holcroft," she broke out sohbingly, " spare my 
 son. It would kill me if you sent him to prison." 
 
 " He took the chance of killing me last night," was the 
 cold reply. " What's far worse, he insulted my wife." 
 
 " O Mr. Holcroft, he was young and foolish, he didn't 
 realize " — 
 
 " Were you and your husband young and foolish," he 
 interrupted bitterly, " when you gulled me into employing 
 that crazy cousin of yours? " 
 
 This retort was so overwhelming that Mrs. Weeks sobbed 
 speechlessly. 
 
 AHda could not help overhearing the conversation, and she 
 now glided into the room and stood by her husband's side. 
 
 " James," she said, " won't you do me a favor, a great 
 kindness?" 
 
 Mrs. Weeks raised her eyes and looked wonderingly at this 
 dreadful woman, against whom all Oakville was talking. 
 
 " I know what you wish, Alida," he replied, sternly ,~"" but 
 I can't do it. This is a case for justice. This woman's son 
 was the leader of that vile crowd that insulted you last night. 
 I can forgive his injuring me, but not the words he used 
 about you. Moreover, when I was alone and struggling, to 
 keep my home, Mrs. Weeks took part with her husband in 
 imposing on me their fraud of a cousin and in tricking, me 
 out of honest money. Any woman with a heart in her 
 breast would have tried to help a man situated as I was. 
 No, it's a clear case of justice and her son shall go to jail." 
 
" YOU DON'T KNOW." 255 
 
 Mrs. Weeks wailed afresh at this final sentence. Holcroft 
 was amazed to see his wife drop on her knees beside his 
 chair, tie raised her instantly. "Don't do such a thing 
 as that," he said, huskily. 
 
 Without removing her pleading eyes from his face she 
 asked, gently, " Who told us to forgive as we would be for- 
 given ? James, I shall be very unhappy if you don't grant 
 this mother's prayer." 
 
 He tried to turn away, but she caught his hand and held 
 his eyes with hers. "Alida," he said, in s'trong agitation, 
 " you heard the vile, false words that Timothy Weeks said 
 last night. They struck you down like a blow. Can you 
 forgive him? " 
 
 " Yes, and I plead with you to forgive him. Grant me 
 my wish, James ; I shall be so much happier and so will 
 you." 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Weeks, now you know what kiiid of a woman 
 your son came to insult. You may tell your neighbors that 
 there's .one Christian in Oakville. I yield to Mrs. Holcroft 
 and will take no further action in the' affair if we are let 
 alone.'' 
 
 Mrs. Weeks was not a bad woman at heart, and she had 
 received a wholesome lesson. She came and took Alida's 
 hand as she said, " Yes, you are a Christian — a better 
 woman than I've been, but I ain't so mean and bad but 
 what, when I see my fault, I am sori'y and can ask forgive- 
 ness. — I do ask your forgiveness, Mr. Holcroft. I've been 
 ashamed of myself ever since you brought my cousin back. 
 I thought she would try, when she had the chance you gave 
 her, but she seems to have no sense." 
 
 "There, there, let by-gones be by-gones," said the farmer 
 in embarrassment. " I've surrendered. Please don't say 
 any thing more." 
 
 " You've got a kind heart in spite " — 
 
256 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Oh, come now, please quit, or I'll begin to swear a little 
 to keep up the reputation my neighbors have given me. 
 Go home and tell Tim to brace up and try to be a man. 
 When I say I'm done with a grudge, I am done. You and 
 Mrs. Holcroft can talk all you like, but please excuse me," 
 and with more than most men's horror of a scene, he 
 escaped precipitately. 
 
 " Sit down, Mrs. Weeks," said Alida, kindly. 
 
 " Well, I will. I can't say much to excuse myself or my 
 folks " — 
 
 "You'vfi already said every thing, Mrs. Weeks," inter- 
 rupted Alida, gently, " you've said you are sorry." 
 
 Mrs. Weeks stared a moment, and then resumed, senten- 
 tiously, " Well, I've heard more gospel in that remark than 
 if I'd gone to church. And I couldn't go to church, I could 
 never have gone there again or held my head up anywhere 
 if_if'_ 
 
 "That's all past and gone," said Alida, smiling. "When 
 Mr. Holcroft says any thing, you may depend on it." 
 
 "Well, God bless you for intercedin' — ^^you had so much 
 to forgive. Nobody shall ever speak a word against you 
 again while I've got breath to answer. I wish you'd let me 
 come and see you sometimes." 
 
 "Whenever you wish, if you care to visit one who has 
 had so much — so much trouble." 
 
 " I see now that's all the more reason I should come, for 
 if it hadn't been for you, I'd have been in bitter trouble 
 myself. We've been worse than heathen, standin' off and 
 talking against you. Oh, I've had a lesson I won't forget. 
 Well, I must hurry home, for I left Timothy and Lemuel in 
 a dreadful state." 
 
 Seeing the farmer in the barn as she was passing, she 
 rushed to him. " You've got to shake hands with me, Mr. 
 Holcroft. Your wife is a good woman, and she's a lady, 
 
" YOU DON'T KNOW." 257 
 
 too. Any one with half an eye can see she's not one of the 
 common sort." 
 
 The farmer shook the poor woman's hand good-naturedly 
 and said heartily, "That's so. All right. Meeting's over. 
 Good-by." Then he turned to his work and chuckled, 
 " That's what Tom Watterly said. Thank the Lord ! she 
 isn't of the common sort. I've got to brace up and be 
 more of a man as well as Tim Weeks." 
 
 In spite of the pain in his head, Alida's words- proved 
 true. He was happier than he had been in many a long 
 day. He had the glow which follows a generous act and 
 the thought that he had pleased a sweet little woman who 
 somehow seemed very attractive to him that May morning ; 
 at the same time the old Adam in his nature led to a sneak- 
 ing satisfaction that he had laid on the hickory so unspar- 
 ingly the evening before. 
 
 Alida uttered a low, happy laugh as she heard him whis- 
 tling " Coronation '' in jig time, and she hustled away the 
 breakfast things with the eagerness of a girl, that she might 
 be ready to read to him when he came in. 
 
258 HE FEIL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 FARM AND FARMER BEWITCHED. 
 
 THE day grew warm, and having finished her tasks in- 
 doors and cared for the poultry, Ahda brought a chair 
 out in the porch. Her eyes were dreamy with a vague, 
 undefined happiness. The landscape in itself was cause for 
 exquisite pleasure, for it was an ideal day of the apple- 
 blossoming period. The old orchard back of the barn 
 looked as if pink and white clouds had settled upon it, and 
 scattered trees near and far were exhaling their fragrance. 
 The light breeze which fanned her cheek and bent the 
 growing rye in an adjacent field was perfumed beyond the 
 skill of art. Not only were her favorite meadow larks call- 
 ing to each other, but the thrushes had come and she felt 
 that she had never heard such hymns as they were singing. 
 A burst of song from-the lilac bush under the parlor window 
 drew her eyes thither, and there was the paternal redbreast 
 pouring out the very soul of ecstasy. From the nest beneath 
 him rose the black head and yellow beak of his brooding 
 mate. " How contented and happy she looks ! " Alida 
 murmured, " how happy they both are ! and the secret of 
 it is, home. And to think that I, who was a friendless waif, 
 am at home, also ! At home with Eden-like beauty and 
 peace before my eyes. But if it hadn't been for him, and if 
 he were not brave, kind and true to all he says " — and she 
 shuddered at a contrast that rose before her fancy. 
 
 She could now scarcely satisfy herself that it was only 
 
FAR^f AND FARMER BEWITCHED. 259 
 
 gratitude which filled her heart with a strange, happy 
 tumult. She had never been conscious of such exaltation 
 before. It is true, she had learned to cherish a strong affec- 
 tion for the man whom she had believed to be her husband, 
 but chiefly because he had seemed kind and she had an 
 affectionate disposition. Until within the last few hours, her 
 nature had never been touched and awakened in its pro- 
 foundest depths. She had never known before nor had she 
 idealized the manhood capable of evoking the feelings 
 which now lightened her eyes and gave to her face the 
 supreme charm and beauty of womanhood. In truth, it 
 was a fitting day and time for the birth of a love like hers, 
 simple, all-absorbing and grateful. It contained no element 
 not in harmony with that May Sunday morning. 
 
 Holcroft came and sat on the steps below her. She 
 kept her eyes on the landscape, for she was consciously 
 enough on her guard now. " I rather guess you think, 
 Alida, that you are looking at a better picture than any 
 artist fellow could paint?" he remarked. 
 
 "Yes," she replied, hesitatingly, "and the picture seems 
 all the more lovely and full of light because the background 
 is so very dark. I've been thinking of what happened here 
 last night and what might have happened, and how I felt 
 then." 
 
 "You feel better — different now, don't you? You cer- 
 tainly look so." 
 
 "Yes, you made me very happy by yielding to Mrs. 
 Weeks." 
 
 " Oh, I didn't yield to her at all." 
 
 " Very well, have 'it your own way then." 
 
 " I think you had it your way." 
 
 "Are you sorry? " 
 
 " Do 1 look so ? How did you know I'd be happier if 
 I gave in?" 
 
26o HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Because, as you say, I'm getting better acquainted with 
 you. You couldn't help being happier for a generous act." 
 
 " I wouldn't have done it, though, if it hadn't been for 
 you." 
 
 " I'm not so sure about that." 
 
 " r am. You're coming to make me feel confoundedly 
 uncomfortable in my heathenish life." 
 
 " I wish I could." 
 
 " I never had such a sermon in my life as you' gave me 
 this morning. A Christian act, like yours, is worth a year 
 of religious talk." 
 
 She looked at him wistfully for a moment and then asked, 
 a little abruptly, " Mr. Holcroft, have you truly forgiven that 
 Weeks family? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I suppose so. I've forgiven the old lady, any- 
 how. I've shaken hands with her." 
 
 " If her husband and son should come and apologize and 
 say they were sorry, would you truly and honestly forgive 
 them?" ■ 
 
 " Certainly. I couldn't hold a grudge after that. What 
 are you aiming ^t ? " and he turned and looked inquiringly 
 into her face. - 
 
 It was flushed and tearful in its eager, earnest interest. 
 " Don't you see ? " she faltered. 
 
 He shook his head, but was suddenly and strangely moved 
 by her expression. 
 
 "Why, Mr. Holcroft, if you can honestly forgive those 
 who have wronged you, you ought to see how ready God is 
 to forgive." 
 
 He fairly started to his feet, so vividly the truth came 
 home to him, illumined, as it was, by a recent and personal 
 experience. After a moment, he slowly sat down again 
 and said, with a long breath, "That was a close shot, 
 Alida." 
 
FARM AND FARMER BEWITCHED. 26 1 
 
 " I only wish you to have the trust and comfort which this 
 truth should bring you," she said. " It seems a pity you 
 should do yourself needless injustice when you are willing 
 to do what is right and kind by others." 
 
 " It's all a terrible muddle, Alida. If God is so ready to 
 forgive, how do you account for all the evil and suffering 
 in the world?" 
 
 " I don't account for it and can't. I'm only one of his 
 little children, often an erring one, too. You've been able to 
 forgive grown people, your equals, and strangers in a sense. 
 Suppose you had a little boy that had done wrong, but said 
 he was sorry, would you hold a grudge against him ? " 
 
 "Theid€a! I'd be a brute." 
 
 She laughed softly as she asked again, " Don't you see ? " 
 
 He sat looking thoughtfully away across the fields for a 
 long time, and finally asked, " Is your idea' of becoming a 
 Christian just being forgiven like a child and then trying to 
 do right ? " 
 
 "Yes. Why not?" 
 
 "Well,", he remarked, with a grim laugh, " I didn't expect 
 to be cornered in this way." 
 
 " You who are truthful should face the truth. It would 
 make you happier. A good deal, that was unexpected has 
 happened. When I look out on a scene like this and think 
 that I am safe and at home, I feel that God has been very 
 good to me and that you have, too. I can't bear to think 
 that you have that old trouble on your mind, — the feeling 
 that you had been a Christian once, but was not one now. 
 Being sure that there is no need of your continuing to feel 
 so, what sort of return would I be mkking for all your kind- 
 ness if I did not try to show you what is as clear to me as 
 this sunshine?" 
 
 " You are a good woman, Alida. Believing as you do, you 
 have done right to speak to me, and I never believed mortal 
 
262 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 lips could speak so to the purpose. I shall think of what 
 you have said, for you have put things in a new light. But 
 say, Alida, what on earth possesses you to call me " Mr." ? 
 You said James easy enough after the skimelton was over 
 and when old lady Weeks was begging Tim off. You don't 
 need to be scared half to death every time to call me by my 
 first name, do you?" 
 
 " Scared ? Oh, no." She was a trifle confused, he thought, 
 but then her tone was completely re-assuring. 
 
 The day was one long remembered by both. As in nature 
 about them, the conditions of development and rapid change 
 now existed. She did not read aloud very much and long 
 silences fell between them. They were reaching a higher 
 plane of companionship, in which words are not always 
 essential. Both had much to think about, ahd their thoughts 
 were like roots which prepare for blossom and fruit. 
 
 With Monday, busy life was resumed. The farmer began 
 planting his corn and Alida her flower seeds. Almost every 
 day now added to the brood of little chicks under her care. 
 The cows went out to pasture, Holcroft brought in an in- 
 creasing number of overflowing pails of milk, and if the 
 labors of the dairy grew more exacting, they also grew more 
 profitable. The tide had turned; income was larger than 
 outgo, and it truly seemed to the long-harassed man that an 
 era of peace and prosperity had set in. 
 
 To a superficial observer things might have appeared to 
 be going on much as before, but there were influences at 
 work which -Holcroft did not clearly comprehend. 
 
 As Alida had promised herself, she spent all the money 
 -which the eggs brought in, but Holcroft found pretty mus- 
 lin curtains at the parlor windows, and shades which ex- 
 cluded the glare from the kitchen. Better china took the 
 place of that which was cracked and unsightly. In brief, a 
 subtile and refining touch was apparent all over the house. 
 
FARM AND FARMER BEWITCHED. 263 
 
 " How fine we are getting ! " he remarked one evening at 
 supper. 
 
 " I've only made a beginning," she replied, nodding de- 
 fiantly at him. " The chickens will paint the house before 
 the year is over." 
 
 " Phew ! when do the silk dresses come in? " 
 
 " When your broadcloth does." 
 
 " Well, if this goes on, I shall certainly have to wear 
 purple and fine linen to keep pace." 
 
 " Fine linen certainly. When you take the next lot of 
 eggs to town I shall tell you just the number of yards I need 
 to make half a dozen extra fine shirts. Those you have are 
 getting past mending." 
 
 " Do you think I'll let you spend your money in that 
 way?" 
 
 " You'll let me spend my money just as I please — in the 
 way that will do me the most good ! " 
 
 " What a saucy little woman you are becoming ! " he said, 
 looking at her so fondly that she quickly averted her eyes. 
 
 "It's a way people fall into when humored," she answered. 
 
 " See here, Alida, you're up to some magic. It seems but 
 the other day I brought you here, a pale ghost of a woman. 
 As old Jonathan Johnson said, you were ' enj'yin' poor health.' 
 Do you know what he said when I took him off so he 
 wouldn't put you through the catechism ? " 
 
 " No," she replied, with a deprecating smile and rising 
 color. 
 
 " He said he was ' afeared I'd been taken in, you were 
 such a sickly lookin' critter.' Ha ! ha ! Wish he might see 
 you now, with that flushed face of yours. I never believed 
 in magic, but I'll have to come to it. You are bewitched, 
 and are being transformed into a pretty young girl right 
 under my eyes ; the house is bewitched, and is growing 
 pretty, too, and pleasanter all the time. The cherry and 
 
264 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 apple trees are bewitched, for they never blossomed so 
 before; the hens are bewitched, they lay as if possessed; 
 the-' — 
 
 " Oh, stop, or I shall think that you're bewitched yourself." 
 
 " I truly begin to think I am." 
 
 " Oh, well, since we all and every thing are affected in the 
 same way, it don't matter." 
 
 " But it does. It's unaccountable. I'm beginning to rub 
 my eyes and pinch myself to wake up." 
 
 " If you like it, I wouldn't wake up." 
 
 " Suppose I did, and saw Mrs. Mumpson sitting where 
 you do, Jane here, and Mrs. Wiggins smoking her pipe in 
 the corner. The very thought makes me shiver. My first 
 ■words would be, ' Please pass the cold p'ison.' " 
 
 " What nonsense you are talking to-night ! " she- tried to 
 say severely, but the pleased, happy look in her eyes be- 
 trayed her. He regarded her with the open admiration of a 
 boy, and she sought to divert his attention by asking, " What 
 do you think has become of Jane ? " 
 
 " I don't know — stealing around like a strange cat in 
 some relation's house, I suppose." 
 
 " You once said you would like to do something for her." 
 
 " Well, I would. If I could afford it I'd like to send her 
 to school." 
 
 " Would you like her to come here and study lessons part 
 of the time ? " 
 
 He shivered visibly. "No, Alida, and you wouldn't either. 
 She'd make you more nervous than she would me, and 
 that's saying a good deal. I do feel very sorry For her, and 
 if Mrs. We.eks comes to see you, we'll find out if something 
 can't be done, but her presence would spoil all our cosey 
 comfort. The fact is, I wouldn't enjoy having any one here. 
 You and I are just about company enough. Still, if you feel 
 that you'd like to have some help " — 
 
FARM AND FARMER BEWITCHED. 265 
 
 " Oh, no, I haven't enough to do." 
 
 " But you're always a-doing. Well, if you're content, I 
 haven't Christian fortitude enough to make any changes." 
 
 She smiled and thought that she was more than content. 
 She had begun to detect symptoms in her husband which 
 her own heart enabled her to interpret. In brief, it looked 
 as if he were drifting on a smooth, swift tide to the same 
 haven in which she was anchored. 
 
 One unusually warm morning for the season, rain set in 
 after breakfast. Holcroft did- not fret in the least that he 
 could not go to the iields, nor did he-, as had been his cus- 
 tom at ilrst, find rainy-day work .at the barn. The cows, in 
 cropping the lush grass, had so increased their yield of milk 
 that it was necessary to churn every other day, and Alida 
 was busy in the dairy. This place had become inviting by 
 reason of its coolness, and she had rendered it more so by 
 making it perfectly clean and sweet. Strange to say" it con- 
 tained another chair beside the one she usually occupied. 
 The apartment was large and stone-flagged. Along one side 
 were shelves filled with rows of shining milk-pans. In one 
 corner stood the simple machinery which the old dog put in 
 motion when tied upon his movable walk, and the churn 
 was near. An iron pipe, buried deep in the ground, brought 
 cool spring water from the brook above. This pipe emptied 
 its contents with a low gurgle into a shallow, oblong recepta- 
 cle sunk in the floor, and was wide and deep enough for two 
 stone crocks of ample size to stand abreast up to their rims 
 in the water. The cream was skimmed into these stone jars 
 until they were full, then Holcroft emptied them into the 
 churn. He had charged Alida never to attempt this part 
 of the work, and indeed it was beyond her strength. After 
 breakfast on churning days, he prepared every thing and set 
 the dog at work. Then he emptied the churn of the butter- 
 milk when he came in to dinner. 
 
266 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 All the associations of the place were pleasant to Alida. ■ It 
 was here that her husband had shown patience as well as kind- 
 ness in teaching her how to supplement his work until her 
 own experience and judgment gave her a better skill than 
 he possessed. Many pleasant, laughing words had passed 
 between them in this cool, shadowy place, and on a former 
 rainy morning he had brought a thair down that he might 
 keep her company. She had not carried it back, nor was 
 she very greatly surprised to see him saunter in and occupy 
 it on the present occasion. She stood by the churn, her fig- 
 ure outlined clearly in the light from the open door, as she 
 poured in cold water from time to time to hasten and harden 
 the gathering butter. Her right sleeve was rolled well back, 
 revealing a white arm that was becoming beautifully plump 
 and round. An artist would have said that her attitude and 
 action were unconsciously natural and graceful. Holcroft 
 had scarcely the remotest idea of artistic effect, but he had 
 a sensible man's perception of a charming woman when she 
 is charming. 
 
 "Mr. Holcroft," she asked very gravely, "will you do 
 something for me ? " 
 
 " Yes, half a dozen things." 
 
 "You promise?" 
 
 "Certainly. What's the trouble?" 
 
 " I don't mean there shall be any if I can help it," she 
 answered with a light ripple of laughter. " Please go and 
 put on your coat." 
 
 " How you humbugged me ! It's too hot." 
 
 " Oh, you've got to do it ; you promised. You can't stay 
 here unless you do." 
 
 " So you are going to take care of me as if I were a small 
 boy?" 
 
 "You need care — sometimes." 
 
 He soon came back and asked, " Now may I stay ? " 
 
FARM AND FARMER BEWITCHED. 267 
 
 "Yes. Please untie the clog. Butter's come." 
 
 " I should think it would, or any thing else at your coax- 
 ing." 
 
 " Oh-h, what a speech ! Hasn't that a pretty golden 
 hue ? " she asked, holding up a mass of the butter she was 
 ladling from the churn into a wooden tray. 
 
 " Yes, you are making the gilt-edge article now. I don't 
 have to sell it to Tom Watterly any more.'' 
 
 " I'd like to give him some, though." 
 
 He was silent, and something like sudden rage burned in 
 his heart that Mrs. Watterly would not permit the gift. That 
 any one should frown on his having such a helper as Alida 
 was proving herself to be, made him vindictive. Fortunately 
 her face was turned away and she did not see his heavy 
 frown. Then, to shield her from a disagreeable fact, he said 
 quickly, " Do you know that for over a year I steadily went 
 behind my expenses, and that your butter-making has turned 
 the tide -already ? I'm beginning to get ahead again." 
 
 " I'm so glad," and her face was radiant. 
 
 " Yes, I should know that from your looks. It's clearer 
 every day that I got the best of our bargain. I never 
 dreamed, though, that I should enjoy your sdcietyas I do — 
 that we should become such very good friends. That wasn't 
 in the bargain, was it? " 
 
 " Bargain ! " The spirited way with which she echoed 
 the word, as if thereby repudiating any thing like a sordid 
 side to their mutual relations, was not lost on her wonder- 
 ing and admiring partner. She checked herself suddenly. 
 " Now let me teach you how to make butter," and with the 
 tray in-.her lap, she began washing the golden product and 
 pressing out the milk. 
 
 He laughed in a confused, delighted way at, her piquant, 
 half saucy manner as he watched her deft round arm and 
 shapely hand. 
 
268 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 "The farmers' wives in Oakville would say your hands 
 were too litde to do much." 
 
 • "They would? " and she raised her blue eyes indignantly 
 to his. " No matter, you are the one to say about that." 
 
 " I say they do too much. I shall have to get Jane to 
 help you." 
 
 " By all means. Then you'll have more society." 
 
 " That was a home shot. You know how I dote on every- 
 body's absence, even Jane's." 
 
 " You dote on butter. See how firm and yellow it's get- 
 ting. You wouldn't think.it was milk-white cream a little 
 while ago, would you? Now I'll .put in the salt and you 
 must taste it, for you're a connoisseur." 
 
 " A what ! " 
 
 "Judge, then." 
 
 " You know a sight more than I do, Alida." 
 
 " I'm learning all the time.'' 
 
 "So am I — to appreciate you." 
 
 " Listen to the sound of the rain and the water as it runs 
 into the milk-cooler. It's like low music, isn't it?" 
 
 Poor Holcroft could make no better answer than a sneeze. 
 
 " Oh-h," she exclaimed, " you're catching cold ! Come, 
 you must go right up-stairs. You can't stay here another 
 minute. I'm nearly through." 
 
 " I was never more contented in my life." 
 
 " You've no right to worry me.- What would I do if you 
 got sick? Come, I'll stop work till you go." 
 
 "Well then, little boss, good-by." 
 
 With a half suppressed smile at his obedience Alida 
 watched his reluctant departure. She kept on diligently at 
 work, but one might have fancied that her thoughts rather 
 than her exertions were flushing her cheeks. 
 
 It seemed to her that but a few moments elapsed before 
 she followed him, but he had gone. Then she saw that the 
 
FARM AND FARMER BEWITCHED. 269 
 
 rain had ceased and that the clouds were breaking. His 
 cheerful whistle sounded re-assuringly from the barn, and a 
 little later he drove up the lane with a cart. 
 
 She sat down in the kitchen and began sewing on the fine 
 linen they had jested about. Before long she heard a light 
 step. Glancing up, she saw the most peculiar and uncanny 
 looking child that had ever crossed her vision and with 
 dismal presentiment knew it was Jane. 
 
^^0 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 ANOTHER WAIF. 
 
 IT was indeed poor, forlorn little Jane that had appeared 
 like a spectre in the kitchen-door. She was as wet and 
 bedraggled as a chicken caught in a shower. A little felt 
 hat hung limp over her ears ; her pigtail braid had lost its 
 string and was unravelling at the end, and her torn, sodden 
 shoes were ready to drop from her feet. She looked both 
 curiously and apprehensively at Alida with her little blinking 
 eyes, and then asked in a sort of breathless voice, " Where's 
 him?" 
 
 "Mr. Holcroft?" 
 
 Jane nodded. 
 
 " He's gone out to the fields. You are Jane, aren't 
 you ? " 
 
 Another nod. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " groaned Alida mentally ; " I wish she hadn't 
 come." Then with a flush of shame the thought crossed 
 her mind, " She perhaps is as friendless and homeless as I 
 was, and ' him ' is also her only hope. — Come in, Jane,'' she 
 said, kindly, " and tell me every thing." 
 
 " Be you his new girl? " 
 
 " I'm his wife," said Alida, smiling. 
 
 Jane stopped ; her mouth opened and her eyes twinkled 
 with dismay. "Then he is married after all?" she gasped, 
 
 "Yes, why not?" 
 
 "Mother said he'd never get any one to take him." 
 
ANOTHER WAIF. 27 1 
 
 •' Well, you see she was mistaken." 
 
 "She's wrong about every thing. Well, it's no use then," 
 and the child turned and sat down on the doorstep. 
 
 Alida was perplexed. From the way Jane wiped her eyes 
 with her wet sleeve, she was evidently crying. Coming to 
 her, Alida said, "What is no use, Jane? Why are you 
 crying?" 
 
 " I thought — he — might — p'raps — let me stay and work 
 for him." 
 
 Alida was still more perplexed. What could be said by 
 way of comfort, feeling sure as she did that Holcroft would 
 be bitterly hostile to the idea of keeping the child ? The 
 best she could do was to draw the little waif out and obtain 
 some explanation of her unexpected appearance. But first 
 she asked, " Have you had any breakfast? " 
 
 Jane shook her head. 
 
 " Oh, then you must have some right away." 
 
 "Don't want any. I want to die. I oughtn'ter been 
 bom." 
 
 " Tell me your troubles, Jane. Perhaps I can help you." 
 
 " No, you'd be like the rest. They all hate me and make 
 me feel I'm in the way. He's the only one that didn't make me 
 feel like a stray cat, and now he's gone and got married," 
 and the child sobbed aloud. 
 
 Her grief was pitiful to see, for it was overwhelming. 
 Ahda stooped down, and gently lifting the child up, brought 
 her in. Then she took off the wet hat and wiped the tear 
 stained face with her handkerchief. " Wait a minute, Jane, 
 till I bring you something," and she ran to the dairy for a 
 glass of milk. "You must drink it," she said, kindly, but 
 firmly. 
 
 The child gulped it down, and with it much of her grief, 
 for this was unprecedented treatment and was winning her 
 attention. 
 
2/2 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Say,"'she faltered, " will you ask him to let me stay ? " 
 
 " Yes, I'll ask him, but I can't promise that he will." 
 
 " You won't ask him 'fore my face and then tell him not 
 to bphind my back? " and there was a sly, keen look in her 
 eyes which tears could not conceal. 
 
 " No," said Alida, gravely, "that's not my way. , How 
 did you get here, Jane ? " 
 '" Run away." 
 
 " From where ? " 
 
 " Poor-house." 
 
 Alida drew a quick breath and was silent a few moments. 
 "Is^is your mother there? " she asked at length. 
 
 " Yes. They wouldn't let us visit round any longer." 
 
 " Didn't your mother or any one know you were coming? " 
 
 Jane shook her head. 
 
 Alida felt that it would be useless to burden the unhappy 
 child with misgivings as to the result, and her heart softened 
 towards her as one who in her limited way had known the 
 bitterness and dread which in that same almshouse had 
 overwhelmed her own spirit. She could only say gently, 
 " Well, wait till Mr. Holcroft comes, and then we'll see 
 what he says." She herself was both curious and anxious 
 as to his course. " It will be a heavy cross," she thought, 
 " but I should little deserve God's goodness to me if I did 
 not befriend this child." 
 
 Every moment added weight to this unexpected burden 
 of duty. Apart from all consideration of Jane's peculiari- 
 ties, the isolation with Holcroft had been a delight in itself. 
 Their mutual enjoyment of each other's society had been 
 growing from day to day, and she, more truly than he, had 
 shrunk from the presence of another as an unwelcome in- 
 trusion. Conscious of her secret, Jane's prying eyes were 
 already beginning to irritate her nerves. Never had she 
 seen a human face that so completely embodied her idea of 
 
ANOTHER WAIF. 273 
 
 inquisitiveness as the uncanny visage of this child. She 
 saw that she would be watched with a tireless vigilance. 
 Her recoil, however, was not so much a matter of conscious 
 reasoning and perception as it was an instinctive feeling of 
 repulsion caused by the unfortunate child. It was the same 
 old story. Jane always put the women of a household on 
 pins and needles just as her mother exasperated the men. 
 Alida had to struggle hard during a comparatively silent 
 hour to fight down tlie hope that Holcroft would not listen 
 to Jane's and her own request. 
 
 As she stepped quickly and lightly about in her prepara- 
 tions for dinner, the girl watched her intently. At last she 
 gave voice to her thoughts and said, "If mother'd only 
 worked round smart as you, p'raps she'd hooked him 'stid 
 er you." 
 
 Alida's only reply was a slight frown, for the remark sug- 
 gested disagreeable images and fancies. "Oh,- how can I 
 ©ndure it?" she sighed. She determined to let Jane plead 
 her own cause at first, thinking that perhaps 4his would be 
 the safest way. If necessary, she would use her influence 
 against a hostile decision, let it cost in discomfort what it 
 might. 
 
 At a few moments before twelve the farrier came briskly 
 towards the house, and was evidently in the best of spirits. 
 When he entered and saw Jane, his countenance indicated 
 so much dismay that Alida could scarcely repress a smile. 
 The child rose and stood before him like a culprit awaiting 
 sentence. She winked hard to keep the tears back, for 
 there was no welcome in his manner. She could not know 
 how intensely distasteful was her presence at this time, nor 
 had Holcroft himself imagined how unwelcome a third 
 person in his house could be until he saw the intruder before 
 him. He had only felt that he was wonderfully contented 
 and happy in his home and that Jane would be a constant 
 
274 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 source of annoyance and restraint. Moreover, it might lead 
 to visitation from Mrs. Mumpson, and that was the sum- 
 ming up of earthly ills. But the child's appearance and 
 manner were so forlorn and deprecating that words of irrita- 
 tion died upon his lips. He gravely shook hands with her 
 and then drew out the story which Alida had learned. 
 
 "Why, Jane," he exclaimed, frowning, "Mr. Watterjy 
 will be scouring the country for you. I shall have to take 
 you back right after dinner." 
 
 " I kinder hoped," she sobbed, " that you'd let me stay. 
 I'd stay in the barn if I couldn't be in the house. I'd just 
 as soon work out-doors, too." 
 
 " I don't think you'd be allowed to stay," said the farmer, 
 with a sinking heart; "and then — perhaps your mother 
 would be coming here." 
 
 " I can't stand mother no more'n you can," said the girl, 
 through her set teeth. " I oughtn'ter been born, for there's 
 no place for me in the world." 
 
 Holcrbft looked at his wife, his face expressive of the 
 utmost annoyance, worry and irresolution. Her glance was 
 sympathetic, but she said nothing, feeling that if he could 
 ma:ke the sacrifice from his own will he should have the 
 chance. " You can't begin to know how much trouble this 
 may lead to, Jane,'' he resumed. "You remember how 
 your mother threatened to take the law upon me, and it 
 wouldn't be possible for you to stay here without her con- 
 sent.'' 
 
 " She oughter consent ; I'll make her consent," cried the 
 child, speaking as if driven to desperation. " What's she 
 ever done for me but teach me mean ways ? Keep me to 
 kill rrie, for I must be in some place where I've a right to 
 be away from mother. I've found that there's no sense in 
 her talk and it drives me crazy." 
 
 Although Jane's words and utterance were strangely un- 
 
ANOTHER WAIF. 2?$ 
 
 couth, they contained a despairing echo which the farmer 
 could not resist. Turning his troubled face to his wife, 
 he began, " If this is possible, AUda, it will be a great deal 
 harder on you than it will on me. I don't feel that I would 
 be doing right by you unless you gave your consent with 
 full knowledge of" — 
 
 " Then please let her stay, if it is possible. She seems to 
 need a friend and home as much as another that you heard 
 about.'' 
 
 " There's no chance of such a blessed reward in this 
 case," he replied, with a grim laugh. Then, perplexed 
 indeed, he continued to Jane, " I'm just as sorry for you as 
 I can be, but there's no use of getting my -wife and self in 
 trouble which in the end will do you no good. You are too 
 young to understand all that your staying may lead to." 
 
 "It won't lead to mother's comin' here, and that's the 
 worst that could happen. Since she can't do any thing for 
 me she's got to let me do for myself." 
 
 " Alida, please come with me in the parlor a moment. — 
 You stay here, Jane." When they were alone, he resumed, 
 " Somehow, I feel strangely unwilling to have that child hve 
 with us. We were enjoying our quiet life so much. Then 
 you don't realize how uncomfortable she will make you, 
 AKda." 
 
 " Yes, I do." 
 
 " I don't think you can yet. Your sympathies are touched 
 now, but she'll watch you and irritate you in a hundred 
 ways. Don't her very presence make you uncomfortable?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, then, she can't stay," he began, decidedly. "This 
 is your home and no one shall make you uncomfortable " — 
 
 " But I should be a great deal more uncomfortable if she 
 didn't stay," Alida interrupted. " I should feel that I did 
 not deserve my home. Not long ago, my heart was break- 
 
2/6 HE FELL IN 1.0 VE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 ing because I was friendless and in "trouble. What could I 
 think of myself if I did not entreat you in behalf of this 
 poor child? " 
 
 " Thunder ! " ejaculated Holcroft. " I guess I was rather 
 friendless and troubled myself and I didn't know the world 
 had in it such a good friend as you've become, Alida: Well, 
 well, you"'ve put it in such a light that I'd be almost tempted 
 totake the mother, also." 
 
 " No," she replied, laughing, " we'll draw the line at the 
 mother." 
 
 " Well, I'll take Jane to town this afternoon, and if her 
 mother will sign an agreement to leave us all in peace, we'll 
 give up our old cosey comfort of being alone. I suppose 
 it must be a good deed, since it's so mighty hard to do it," 
 he concluded with a wry face, leading the way to the kitchen 
 again. She smiled as if his words were already rewarding 
 her self-denial. 
 
 " Well, Jane," he resumed," Mrs. Holcroft has spoken in 
 your behalf, and if we can arrange matters so that you can 
 stay you will have her to thank chiefly. I'll take you back 
 to the poor-house after dinner, so it may be known what's 
 become of you. Then if your mother'U sign an agreement 
 to make no trouble and not come here, we'll give you a home 
 until we can find a better place for you." 
 
 There was no outburst of gratitude. The repressed, 
 dwarfed nature of the child was incapable of this, yet there 
 was an unwonted httle thrill of hope in her heart. Possibly 
 it was like the beginning of life in a seed under the first 
 spring rays of the sun. She merely nodded to Holcroft as 
 if the matter Jiad been settled as far as it could be and 
 ignored Alida. 
 
 " Why don't you thank Mrs. Holcroft? " he asked. 
 
 Then Jane turned and nodded ^t AU^a. Her vocabulary 
 of thanks was undeveloped. 
 
ANOTHER WAIF. 2'J'J 
 
 "She's glad," said Alida. "You'll see.— Now that it's 
 settled, we hope you're hungry, Jane, aren't you?" 
 
 " Yes, I be. Can't I help you put things on the table ? '* 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Holcroft looked at the two for a moment and theft shook 
 his head as he went up to his room. " I thought my wife 
 was nice and pleasant looking before," he thought, " but she's 
 like a picture beside that child. Well, she has behaved 
 handsomely. Tom Watterly didn't tell half the truth when 
 he said she was not of the common run. She's a Christian 
 in deeds, not talk. What's that in Scripture about ' I was 
 hungry ' ? Well, well, she makes religion kind of natural 
 and plain like, whether it's easy or not. Thunder ! what 
 a joke it is to see her so grateful because I've given her a 
 chance to help me out of the worst scrape a man could be 
 in ! As if she hadn't changed every thing for the better ! 
 Here I am sure of my home and getting ahead in the world 
 again, and it's all her doing." 
 
 In admiration of his wife, Holcroft quite forgot that there 
 had been any self-sacrifice on his part, and he concluded 
 that he could endure Jane and almost any thing else as long 
 as Alida continued to look after his' comfort and interests. 
 
 Now that the worst stress of Jane's anxiety was over, she 
 proved' that she was half starved. Indeed, she had few-mis- 
 givings now, for her confidence that Holcroft would accom- 
 plish what he attempted was almost unbounded. It was a 
 rather silent meal at "first, for the farmer and his wife had 
 much to think about and Jane much to do in making up for 
 many limited meals. At last Holcroft smiled so broadly that 
 AUda said, " Something seems to please you." 
 
 "Yes, more than one thing. It might be a great deal 
 worse, and was, not long ago. I was thinking of old times." 
 
 " How pleasant they must have been, to make you look so 
 happy ! " 
 
278 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " They had their uses, and make me think of a picture I 
 saw in a store window in town. It was a picture of a 
 woman, and she took my. fancy amazingly. But the point 
 uppermost in my mind was a trick of the fellow who painted 
 her. He had made the background as dark as night and so 
 she stood out as if alive ; and she looked so sweet and good 
 that I felt like shaking hands with her. I now see why the 
 painter made the background so dark."' ' 
 
 Alida smiled mischievously as she replied, " That was his 
 art. He knew that almost any one would appear well against 
 such a background." 
 
 But Holcroft was much too direct to be diverted from his 
 thought or its expression. " The man knew the mighty nice 
 looking woman he had painted would look well," he said, 
 " and I know of another woman who appears better against 
 a darker background. That's enough to make a man smile 
 who has been through what I have." 
 
 She could not help a flush of pleasure or disguise the 
 happy light in her eyes, but she looked significantly at Jane, 
 who, mystified and curious, was glancing from one to the , 
 other. 
 
 " Confound it ! " thought the farmer. " " That'll *be the 
 way of it now. Here's a little pitcher that is nearly all ears. 
 Well, we're in for it and must do our duty." 
 
 Going to town that day involved no slight inconvenience, 
 but Holcroft dropped every thing and rapidly raa'de his 
 preparations. 
 
 When Alida was left alone with Jane, the latter began 
 clearing the table with alacrity, and, after a few furtive 
 glances at Mrs. Holcroft, yielded to the feeling that she 
 should make, some acknowledgment of the intercession in 
 her behalf. "Say," she began, "I thought you wasn't goin' 
 to stand up for me after all. Women folks are liars, 
 mostly." 
 
ANOTHER WAIF. 279 
 
 " You are mistaken, Jane. If you wish to stay witli us, 
 you must tell the truth and drop all sly ways." 
 
 "That's what he said when I first come." 
 
 " I say it too. You see a good deal, Jane. Try to see 
 what will please people instead of what you can find otit 
 about them. It's a much better plan. Now, as a friend, I 
 tell you of one thing you had better not do. You shouldn't 
 watch and listen to Mr. Holcroft unless he speaks to you. 
 He doesn't like to be watched — no one does. It isn't 
 nice ; and if you come to us, I think you will try to do what 
 is nice. Am I not right? " 
 
 " I dunno how," said Jane. 
 
 " It will be part of my business to teach you. You ought 
 to understand all about your coming. Mr. Holcroft doesn't 
 take you because he needs your work, but because he's sorry 
 for you, and wishes to give you a chance to do better and 
 learn something. You must make up your mind to lessons, 
 and learning to talk and act nicely, as well as to do such 
 work as is given you. Are you wiUing to do what I say and 
 mind me pleasantly and promptly?" 
 
 Jane looked askance at the speaker and was vaguely sus- 
 picious of some trick. In her previous sojourn at the farm- 
 house she had concluded that it was her best policy to keep 
 in Holcroft's good graces, even though she had to defy her 
 mother and Mrs. Wiggins, and she was now by no means 
 ready to commit herself to this new domestic power. She 
 had received the impression that the authority and continued 
 residence of females in this household was involved in much 
 uncertainty, and although Alida was in favor now and the 
 farmer's wife, she didn't know what "vicissitudes" (as her 
 mother would indicate them) might occur. Holcroft was 
 the only fixed and certain quantity in her troubled thoughts; 
 and after a little hesitation she replied, "I'll do what he 
 says ; I'm goin' to mind him." 
 
28o HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Suppose he tells you to mind me." 
 
 " Then I will. That ud be mindin' him. I'm goin'_ to 
 stick to him, for I made out by it better before than by 
 mindin' mother and Mrs. Wiggins." 
 
 Alida now understood the child and laughed aloud. 
 " You are right," she said. " I won't ask you to do any 
 thing contrary to his wishes. Now tell me, Jane, what other 
 clothes have you besides those you aie wearing? " 
 
 It did not take the girl long to inventory her scanty ward- 
 robe, and then Alida rapidly made out a list of what was 
 needed immediately. "Wait here," she said, and putting 
 on a pretty straw hat, one of her recent purchases, she 
 started for the barp. 
 
 Holcroft had his wagon and team almost ready when Alida 
 joined him, and led the way to the floor between the sweet- 
 smelling hay-mows. 
 
 " One thing leads to another," she began, looking at him 
 a little deprecatingly. " You must have noticed the condi- 
 tion of Jane's clothes." 
 
 " She does look like a little scarecrow, now I come to 
 think of it," he admitted. 
 
 "Yes, she's not mucTi better off than I was," Alida re- 
 turned, with dowcast eyes; and rising color. 
 
 Her flushing face was so pretty under the straw hat, and 
 the ,dark mow as a background brought out her figure so 
 finely that he thought of the picture again and.laughed aloud 
 for pleasure. She looked up in questioning surprise, thus 
 adding a new grace. 
 
 " I wish that artist fellow was here now," he exclaimed. 
 " H,e could make another picture that would suit me better 
 than the one I saw in town." 
 
 " What nonsense ! " she cried, quickly averting her face 
 from his admiring scrutiny. " Come, I'm here to talk busi- 
 ness and you've no time to waste. I've made out a list of 
 what the child actually must have to be respectable." 
 
ANOTHER WAIF. 28 1 
 
 "You're right, Alida," said the farmer, becoming grave at 
 once over a question of dollars and cents. " As you say, one 
 thing leads to another, and if we take the girl we must clothe 
 her decently. But then, I guess she'll earn enough to pay 
 her way. It isn't that I worry about so much," he broke 
 out, discontentedly, " but the interference with our quiet, 
 cosey life. Things are going so smoothly and pleasantly that 
 I hate a change of any kind." - 
 
 " We mustn't be_ selfish, you know," she rephed. "You 
 are doing a kind, generous act, and I respect you all the 
 more for it." 
 
 " That settles every thing. You'll like me a little better 
 for it, too, won't you? " he asked, hesitatingly. 
 
 -She laughed outright at this question and answered, " It 
 won't do to take too much self-sacrifice out of your act. 
 That's something which does us all good. She ought to 
 have a spelling and a writing book also." 
 
 Holcroft was assuredly falling under the sway of the liWe 
 blind god, for he began at once to misunderstand Alidat, 
 " You are very fond of self-saQrifice," he said, rather stiffly. 
 "Yes, I'll get every thing on your list," and he took it from 
 her hand. " Now I must be off," he added, " for I wish to 
 get back before night, and it's so warm I can't drive fast. 
 Sorry \ have to go, for I can't say I dote on self-sacrifice." 
 
 Alida but partially understood his sudden change of 
 mood, nor was the farmer much better enlightened himself 
 in regard to his irritation. He had received an unexpected 
 impression and it seemed to fit in with other things and 
 explain them. She returned slowly and dejectedly to the 
 house, leaving unsaid the words she meant to speak about 
 Jane's relations to her. Now she wished that she had imi- 
 tated Jane, and merely nodded to the farmer's question. 
 " If he knew how far I am beyond the point of Uking, I don't 
 know what he'd do or say," she thought, " and I suppose 
 
282 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 that's the reason I couldn't answer him frankly, in a way 
 that would have satisfied hira. It's a pity I couldn't begin 
 to just like a little at first, as he does, and have every thing 
 grow as gradually and quietly as one of his cornstalks. 
 That's the way I meant it should be ; but when he stood up 
 for me and defended me from those men, my heart just 
 melted, and in spite of myself, I felt I could die for him. 
 It can't be such an awful thing for a woman to fall in love 
 with her husband, and yet — yet I'd rather put my hand in 
 the fire than let him know how I feel. Oh, dear ! I wish 
 Jane hadn't been born, ,as she says. Trouble is beginning 
 already, and it was all so nice before she came." 
 
 In a few moments Holcroft drove up. Ahda stood in the 
 door and looked timidly at him. He thought she appeared 
 a little pale and troubled, but his bad mood prevailed and he 
 only asked briefly, " Can't I get something for you ? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " Well, good-by, then,'' and he drove away with Jane, who 
 was confirmed in lier line of pohcy. "She's afraid of 'im 
 too," thought the child. " Mind her ! guess not, unless he 
 says so." She watched the farmer furtively and concluded 
 that she had never known him to look more grim or be more 
 silent even under her mother's blandishments. " He's mar- 
 ried this one, I s'pose, to keep house for 'im, but he don't 
 like her foUerin' 'im up or bein' for'ard any more'n he did 
 mother. Shouldn't wonder if he didn't keep her, either, if 
 she don't suit better. She needn't 'a' put on such airs with 
 me, for I'm goin' to stick to him." 
 
HUSBAND AND WIFE IN TROUBLE. 283 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE IN TROUBLE. 
 
 LIKE many others with simple, strong natures, Holcroft 
 could not be wrong - headed moderately, and his 
 thoughts, once started in a direction, were apt to carry 
 him much farther than the cause warranted. Engrossed in 
 painful and rather bitter musings, he paid no heed to Jane;, 
 and almost forgot his errand to town. " I was a fool to ask 
 that question," he thought. " I was getting silly and senti- 
 mental with my talk about the picture and all that. She 
 laughed at me and reminded me I was wasting time. Of 
 course she can't like an old, hard-featured man like me. 
 I'm beginning to understand her now. She made a business 
 marriage with me and means to live up to her agreement. 
 She's honest; she feels I've done her a great kindness in 
 giving her a home, and she's willing to be as self-sacrificing 
 as the day is long to make it up to me. I wish she wasn't 
 so grateful ; there's no occasion for it. I don't want her to 
 feel that every pleasant word and every nice act is so much 
 towards paying a debt. If there was any balance in my 
 favor, it was squared up long ago, and I was willing to call 
 it even from the start. She's made me like her for her own 
 sake and not on account of what she does for me, and that's 
 what I had in mind. But she's my superior in every way ; 
 she's growing to he as pretty as a picture and I suppose I 
 appear like a rather rough customer. Well, I can't help it, 
 but it rather goes against me to have her think, ' I've married 
 
284 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 him and I'm going to do my duty by him just as I agreed.' 
 She'll do her duty by this Jane in the same self-sacrificing 
 spirit, and will try to make it pleasant for the child just be- 
 cause it's right and because she herself was taken out of 
 trouble. That's the shape her religion takes. 'Tisn't a com- 
 mon form, I know, — this returning good for good with com- 
 pound interest. But her conscience won't let her rest unless- 
 she does every thing she can for me, and now she'll begin to 
 do every thing for Jane because she feels that self-sacrifice is 
 a duty. Anybody can be self-sacrificing. If I made up 
 my mind, I could ask Mrs. Mumpson to visit us all summer, 
 but I couldn't like her to save my life, and I don't suppose 
 Alida can like me, beyond a certain point, to save her life. 
 But she'll do her duty. She'll be pleasant and self-sacri- 
 ficing and do all the work she can lay her hands on for my 
 sake ; but when it comes to feeling towards me as I can't 
 help feeling towards her — that wasn't in the bargain," and 
 he startled Jane with a sudden bitter laugh. 
 
 " Say," said the child, as if bent on adding another poign- 
 ant reflection, " if you hadn't married her I could 'a' come 
 and cooked for you." 
 
 " You think I'd been better off if I'd waited for you, eh? " 
 
 "You kinder looked as if yer thought so." 
 
 He now made the hills echo with a laugh, excited both 
 by his bitter fancies and the preposterous idea. She looked 
 at him inquiringly and was much perplexed by his unwonted 
 behavior. Indeed, he was slightly astonished at his own 
 strange mood, but he yielded to it almost recklessly. "I 
 say, Jane," he began, "I'm not a very good-looking man, 
 ami?"' 
 
 She shook her head in emphatic agreement. 
 
 " I'm old and rough and hard-featured?" 
 
 Again she nodded approvingly. 
 
 " Children and some others speak the truth," he growled. 
 
HUSBAND AND WIFE IN TROUBLE. 285 
 
 " I never had no teachin', but I'm not a fool," remarked 
 Jane, keenly. 
 
 " I guess I'm the fool in this case," he added. 
 
 " It don't make no difference to me," she said, sympa- 
 thetically. " I'm,goin to mind you and not her. If you ever 
 send her away I'll cook for you." 
 
 " Send her away ! " exclaimed the farmer, with a shiver. 
 " God forbid. There, don't talk any more." 
 
 For the next half mile he drove in silence, with a heavy 
 frown on his face ; then he broke out sternly, " If you don't 
 promise to mind Mrs. Holcroft and please her in every 
 thing, I'U leave you at the poor-house door and drive home 
 again." 
 
 " Course I will, if you tells me to," said the child in 
 trepidation. 
 
 " Well, I do. People will find that making her trouble is 
 the surest way of making themselves trouble." 
 
 "She's got some hold on 'im," concluded Jane, who, in 
 listening to much gossip, had often heard this expression, 
 and now made a practical application of the idea. 
 
 Watterly was greatly relieved when he saw Holcroft drive 
 
 up with the fugitive. " I was just going out to your place," 
 
 ~ he said, " for the girl's mother insisted that you had enticed 
 
 the child away," and the man laughed, as if the idea 
 
 tickled him immensely. 
 
 Holcroft frowned, for he was in no mood for his friend's 
 rough jests. "Go to your mother till I send for you," 
 he said to Jane. 
 
 " The fact that you had taken two other females from the 
 house gave some color to Mrs. Mumpson's view," pursued 
 Watterly, who could take only the broadest hint as to his 
 social conduct. 
 
 He received one now. " Tom Watterly," said the farmer, 
 sternly, "did I ever insult your wife ? " 
 
286 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " By jocks ! no, you nor no other man. I should say 
 not." 
 
 " Well, then, don't you insult mine. Before I'd seen Mrs. 
 Holcroft, you told me she was out of the common run, — 
 how much out, you little know, — and I don't want her 
 mixed up with the common run, even in your thoughts." 
 
 " Well, now, I like that," said Watterly, jgiving Holcroft 
 his hand. " You know I didn't mean any offence, Jim. It 
 was only one of my foolish jokes. You were mighty slow 
 to promise to love, honor and obey, but hanged if you ain't 
 more on that line than any man in town. I can see she's 
 turning out well and keeping her agreement." 
 
 "Yes, that's just what she's doing," said the farmer, 
 gtoomily. " She's a good, capable woman that'll sacrifice 
 herself to her duty any day. But it wasn't to talk about 
 her that I came. She's a sight better than I am, but she's 
 probably not good enough for anybody in this town to 
 speak to." 
 
 " Oh, pshaw, now, Jini ! " 
 
 "Well, I've come on disagreeable business. I didn't 
 know that Mrs. Mumpson and her child were here, and I 
 wish to the Lord they could both stay here ! You've found 
 out what the mother is, I suppose ? " 
 
 " I should say so," replied Tom, laughing. " She's talked 
 several of the old women to death already. The first day 
 she was here she called on my wife and claimed social 
 relations, because she's so ' respecterbly connected,' as she 
 says. I thought Angy'd have a fit. Her respectable con- 
 nections have got to take her off my hands." 
 
 " I'm not one of 'em, thank goodness," resumed Hol- 
 croft. "But I'm willing to take the girl and give her a 
 chance — at least I'll do it," he corrected himself in his strict 
 observance of truth. " You can see she's not a child to 
 dote on, but I was sorry for her when I sent her mother 
 
HUSBAND AND WIFE IN TROUBLE. 287 
 
 away and said I'd try and do something for her. The first 
 thing I knew she was at the house, begging me to either 
 take her in or kill her. I couldn't say no, though I wanted 
 to. Now you see what kind of a good Samaritan I am." 
 
 " Oh, I know you. You'd hit a man between the eyes if 
 he charged you with doing a good deed. But what does your 
 wife say to adopting such a cherub ? " 
 
 "We're not going to adopt her or bind ourselves. My 
 wife took the child's part and plead with me in her behalf, 
 though I could see the young one almost made her sick. 
 She thinks it's her duty, you know, and that's enough for 
 her." 
 
 " By jocl^t Holcroft, she don't feel that way about you, 
 does she ? " 
 
 "Why shouldn't she?" 
 
 " Why should she ? I can take about any thing frdm 
 Angy, but it wouldn't do for her to let me see that she dis- 
 liked me so that I kinder made her sick." 
 
 " Oh, thunder, Tom ! you're getting a wrong %npression. 
 I was never treated better by anybody in my life than by 
 Mrs. Holcroft. She's a lady, every inch of her. But 
 there's no reason why she should dote on an old fellow like 
 me." 
 
 "Yes, there is. I have my opinion of a woman who 
 wouldn't dote on a man that's been such a friend as you 
 have." 
 
 " Oh, hang it all, Tom ! let's talk about business. - She's 
 too grateful — that's what worries me. By the way she took 
 hold and filled the house with comfort, she made every 
 thing even from the start. She's been as good a friend to 
 me as I to her. She's done all she agreed and more, and I'll 
 never hear a word against her. The point I've been trying 
 to get at is tliis. If Mrs. Mumpson will agree never to come 
 near us or make trouble in any way, we'll take the child. 
 
288 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 If she won't so agree, I'll have nothing to &o with the girl. 
 I don't want to see her mother, and you'd do me one of the 
 kindest turns you ever did a man by stating the case to 
 her." 
 
 " If I do," said Watterly, laughing, " you'll have to for- 
 give me every thing in the past and the future." 
 
 " I will, Tom, for I'd rather have an eye-tooth pulled than 
 face that woman. We're all right — just as we used to be at 
 school, always half quarrelling, yet ready to stand up for 
 each other to the last drop. But I must have her promise 
 in black and white." 
 
 "Well, come to my office and we'll try to arrange it. 
 The law is on your side, for the county won't support 
 people that any one will take off its hands. Besides, I'm 
 going to shame the woman's relations into taking her away, 
 and they'll be glad there's one less to support." 
 
 They drew tip a brief, strong agreement, and Watterly 
 took it to the widow to sign. He found her in great excite- 
 ment and Jane looking at her defiantly. " I told you he 
 was the one who enticed away my offspring," she began, 
 almost hysterically. " He's a cold-blooded villain. If there's 
 law in the land I'll "— 
 
 " Stop," thundered Watterly. His voice was so high and 
 authoritative that she did stop, and with open mouth stared 
 at the superintendent. " Now, be quiet and listen to me," 
 he continued. " Either you are a sane woman and can stop 
 this foolishness, or else you are insane and must be treated 
 as such. You have your choice. You can't tell me any thing 
 about Holcroft ; I 've known him since he was a boy. He 
 doesn't want your girl. She ran away to him, didn't you ? " 
 to Jane, who nodded. " But he's willing to take her, to 
 teach her something and give her achance. His motive is 
 pure kindness and he has a good wife who'll " — 
 
 "I ^e it all," cried the widow, tragically clasping her 
 
HUSBAND AND WIFE IN TROUBLE. 289 
 
 hands. " It's his wife's doings. She wishes to triumph over 
 me, and even to usurp my place in ministering to my child. 
 Was there ever such an outrage ? Such a bold, vindictive 
 female " — 
 
 Here Jane, in a paroxysm of indignant protest, seized her 
 mother and began to shake her so violently that she could 
 not speak. 
 
 " Stop that," said Watterly, repressing laughter with diffi- 
 culty. " I see you are insane and the law will have to step 
 in and take care of you both." 
 
 " What will it do with us ? " gasped the widow. 
 
 "Well, it ought to put you in strait - jackets, to begin 
 with " — 
 
 " I've got sense if mother ain't," cried Jane, commencing 
 to sob. 
 
 " It's plain the law'll decide your mother's not fit to take 
 care of you. Any one who can even imagine^ such silly, 
 ridiculous things as she's just sai.d must be looked after. 
 You may take a notion, Mrs. Mumpson, that I'm a murderer 
 or a giraffe. It would be just as sensible as your other talk." 
 
 " What does Mr. Holcroft offer? " said the widow, cooling 
 off rapidly. If there was an atom of common-sense left in 
 any of his pauper charges, Watterly soon brought it iiito 
 play, and his vague threatenings of law were always awe 
 inspiring. 
 
 " He makes a very kind offer, that you would jump at if 
 you had sense — a good home for your child. You ought to 
 know she can't stay here and live on charity if any one is 
 willing to take her." 
 
 " Of course I would be permitted to visit my child from 
 time to time ? He couldn't be so monstrously hard-hearted 
 as" — 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! " cried Watterly, impatiently. " The 
 idea of his letting you come to his house after what you've 
 
296 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 said about him ! I've no time to waste in foolishness, or he 
 either. He will let Jane visit you, but you are to sign this 
 paper and keep the agreement not to go near him or make 
 any trouble whatever." 
 
 " It's an abominable " — 
 
 "Tut ! tut ! that kind of talk isn't allowed here. If you 
 can't decide like a sane woman the law'U soon decide for 
 you." 
 
 As was always the case when Mrs. Mumpson reached the 
 inevitable, she yielded ; the paper was signed, and Jane, who 
 had already made up her small bundle, nodded triumphantly 
 to her mother and followed Watterly. Mrs. Mumpson, on 
 tiptoe, followed also, bent on either propitiating Holcroft 
 and so preparing the way for a visit, or else on giving him 
 once more a " piece of her mind." 
 
 "All right, Holcroft," said Watterly, as he entered the 
 office, " here's the paper signed. Was there ever such an 
 id " — 
 
 " Oh, how do you do, Mr. Holcroft," cried the widow, 
 bursting in and rushing forward with extended hand. 
 
 The farmer turned away and looked as if made of stone. 
 ' Changing her tactics instantly, she put her handkerchief 
 to her eyes and moaned, " You never can have the heart to 
 say I can't come and see my child. I've signed writings, 
 'tis true, under threats and compulsions ; but I trust there 
 will be relentings " — 
 
 "There won't be one relent," cried Jane. "I never 
 want to see you again, and a blind post could see that he 
 doesn't." 
 
 " Jane," said Holcroft, sternly, " don't speak so again. If 
 strangers can be kind and patient with you, you can be so 
 with your mother. She has no claims on me a^d has said 
 things which make it impossible for me to speak to her 
 again, but I shall insist on your visiting and treating her 
 
HUSBAND AND WIFE IN TROUBLE. 29 1 
 
 kindly. — Good-by, Watterly. You've proved yourself a 
 friend again," and he. went rapidly away, followed by Jane. 
 
 Mrs. Mumpson was so taken aback by Holcroft's final 
 words and Watterly's stern manner as he said, " This is my 
 office," that for once in her life she disappeared silently. 
 
 Holcroft soon purchased the articles on his list, mean- 
 while racking his brains to think of something that he 
 could buy for Alida, but the fear of being thought senti- 
 mental and of appearing to seek a personal regard for him- 
 self,, not " nominated in the bond," restrained him. 
 
 On his way home, he was again sunk in deep abstraction, 
 but the bitterness of his feeling had passed away. Although as 
 mistaken as before in his apprehension of Alida, his thoughts 
 were kinder and juster. " I've no right to find fault or com- 
 plain," he said to himself. "She's done all I asked and bet- 
 ter tharr she agreed, and there's no one to blame if she can't 
 do more. It must have been plain enough to her at first 
 that I didn't want any thing but a housekeeper — a quiet, 
 friendly body that would look after the house and dairy, 
 and she's done better than I even hoped. That's just the 
 trouble ; she's turned out so different from what I expected 
 and looks so different from what she did, that I'm just sort 
 of carried away. I'd give half the farm if she was sitting 
 by my side this June evening and I could tell her all I feel 
 and know she was glad. I must be just and fair to her. I 
 asked her to agree to one thing and now I'm beginning to 
 want a tremendous sight more — I want her to like not only 
 her home and work and the quiet life she so longed for, but 
 1 want her to like me, to enjoy my society, not only in a 
 friendly, business like way, but in another way — yes, con- 
 found my slow wits ! somewhat as if she was my wife in reality 
 and not merely in name, as I insisted. It's mighty mean 
 business in me, who have been so proud of standing up to 
 my agreements and so exacting of others to do the same. I 
 
292 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 went away cold and stiff this afternoon because she wasn't 
 silly and sentimental when I was. I'm to her an unpolished, 
 homely, middle-aged man, and yet I sort of scoffed at the 
 self-sacrifice which has led her to be pleasant and compan- 
 ionable in every way that her feelings allowed. I wish I were 
 younger and better looking, so it wouldn't all be a sense of 
 duty and gratitude. Gratitude be hanged ! I don't want any 
 more of it. Well, now, James Holcroft, if you're the square 
 man you supposed yourself to be, you'll be just as kind and 
 considerate as you know how, and then you'll feave Alida to 
 the quiet, peaceful life to which she looked forward when 
 she married you. The thing for you to do is to go back to 
 your first ways after you were married and attend to the 
 farm. She doesn't want you hanging around arid looking at 
 her ?is if she was one of her own posies. That's something 
 she wasn't led to expect and it would be mean enough to 
 force it upon her before she shows tliat she wishes it, and I 
 couldn't complain if she never wished it." 
 
 During the first hour after Holcroft's departure, Alida had 
 been perplexed and worried, but her intuitions soon led to 
 hopefulness, and the beauty and peace of nature without 
 aided in restoring her serenity. The more minutely she 
 dwelt on Holcroft's words and manner, the more true it 
 seemed that he was learning to take an interest in her that 
 was personal and apart from every other consideration. " If 
 I am gentle, patient and faithful," she thought, " all will 
 come out right. He is so true and straightforward that I 
 need have no fears." 
 
 When Tie returned and greeted her with what seemed his 
 old, friendly, natural manner, and, during a temporary ab- 
 sence of Jane, told her laughingly of the Mumpson episode, 
 she was almost completely re-assured. " Suppose the widow 
 breaks through all restraint and- appears as did Jane, what 
 would you do? " he asked. 
 
HUSBAh^D AND WIFE IN TROUBLE. 293 
 
 " Whatever you wished," she replied, smiling. 
 
 " In other words, what you thought your duty?" 
 
 " I suppose that is what one should try to do." 
 
 " I guess you are the one that would succeed in doing it, 
 even to Mrs. Mumpson," he said, turning hastily away and 
 going to his room. 
 
 She was puzzled again. " I'm sure I don't dote on self- 
 sacrifice and hard duty any more than he does, but I can't 
 tell him that, duty is not hard when it's to him." 
 
 Jane was given the room over the kitchen which Mrs. 
 Wiggins had occupied, and the farmhouse soon adopted her 
 into its quiet routine. Holcroft's course continued to cause 
 Alida a dissatisfaction which she could scarcely define. He 
 was as kind as ever he had been and even more considerate ; 
 he not only gratified her wishes, but tried to anticipate them, 
 while Jane's complete subserviency proved that she had been 
 spoken to very plainly. 
 
 One day she missed her spelling lesson for the third time, 
 and Alida told her that she must learn it thoroughly before 
 going out. The child took the book reluctantly, yet without 
 a word. "That's a good girl," said Alida, wishing to en- 
 courage her. " I was afraid at first you wouldn't mind me 
 so readily." 
 
 " He told me to ; he'd fire me out the window if I didn't 
 mind you." 
 
 " Oh, no, I think he's very kind to you." 
 
 " Well, he's kind to you, too." 
 
 " Yes, he has always been kind to me," said Alida, gently 
 and Kngeringly, as if the thought were pleasant to dwell upon. 
 
 "Say," said Jane, yielding to her curiosity, "how did you 
 make him so afraid of you when he don't like you ? He 
 didn't like mother, but he wasn't afraid of her." 
 
 " Why do you think he doesn't like me ? " Alida faltered, 
 turning very pale. 
 
294 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Oh, 'cause he looked once jest as he did after mother'd 
 been gom' for " — 
 
 " There, be still. You mustn't speak of such things or 
 talk to me about Mr. Holcroft in such a way," and she 
 hastily left the kitchen. When in the solitude of her own 
 room, she gave way to bitter tears. " Is it so plain," she 
 thought, " that even this ignorant child sees it ? And the 
 unhappy change began the day she came, too. I can't 
 understand it. We were so happy before ; and he seemed 
 to enjoy being near me and talking to me when his work 
 permitted. He used to look into my eyes in a way that 
 made me hope and, indeed, feel almost sure. I receive no 
 more such looks ; he seems only trying to do his duty by 
 me as he promised at first, and acts as if it were all duty, 
 a mere matter of conscience. Could he have discovered 
 how I felt, and so is taking this way to remind me that 
 nothing of the kind was in our agreement? Well, I've no 
 reason to complain ; I accepted the relation of my own free 
 will, but it's hard, hard indeed for a woman who loves a man 
 with her -whole heart and soul — and he her husband — to 
 go on meeting him day after day, yet act as if she were his 
 mere business partner. But I can't help myself, my very 
 nature as well as a sense of his rights prevents me from ask- 
 ing more or even showing that I wish for more. That would 
 be asking for it. But can it be true that he is positively 
 learning to dislike me? to shrink from me with that strong 
 repulsion which women feel towards some men? Oh, if 
 that is true, the case is hopeless ; it would kill me. Every 
 effort to win him, even the most delicate and unobtrusive, 
 would only drive him farther away ; the deepest instincts of 
 his soul would lead him to withdraw — to shun me. If this 
 is true, the time may come when, so far from my filling his 
 home with comfort, I shall make him dread to enter it. 
 Oh, oh ; my only course is to remember just what I prora- 
 
HUSBAND AND WIFE IN TROUBLE, 295 
 
 ised and he expected when he married me, and Uve up to 
 that." 
 
 Thus husband and wife reached the same conclusion and 
 were rendered equally unhappy. 
 
296 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 holcroft's best hope. 
 
 WHEN Holcroft came in to dinner that day the view he 
 had adopted was confirmed, yet Alida's manner and 
 appearance began to trouble him. Even to his rather slow 
 perception, she did not seem so happy as she had been. 
 She did not meet his eye with her old fraiik, friendly^ and, 
 as he had almost hoped, affectionate, expression ; she seemed 
 merely feverishly anxious to do every thing and have all as 
 he wished. Insteadu)f acting with natural ease and saying 
 what was in her mind without premeditation, a conscious 
 e&rt was visible and an apparent solicitude that he . should 
 be satisfied. The inevitable result was that he was more 
 dissatisfied. " She's doing her best for me," he growled, as 
 he went back to his work, " and it begins to look as if it 
 might wear her out in time. Confound it ! having every 
 thing just so isn't of much account when a man's heart 
 hungiy. I'd rather have had one of her old smiles and 
 gone without my dinner. Well, well, how little a man 
 understands himself or knows the future ! The day I mar- 
 ried her I was in mortal dread lest she should care for ine 
 too much and want to be affectionate and all that; and 
 here I am, discontented and moping because every thing 
 has turneTl out as I then wished. Don't see as I'm to blame, 
 either. She had no business to grow so pretty. Then she 
 looked like a ghost, but now when the color comes into 
 her cheeks, and her blue eyes sparkle, a man would be a 
 
HOLCROFT'S BEST HOPE. 297 
 
 Stupid clod if he didn't look with all his eyes and feel his 
 heart a-thumping. That she should change so wasn't in the 
 bargain ; neither was it that she should read aloud in such 
 sweet tones that a fellow'd like to listen to the dictionary ; 
 nor that she should make the house and yard look as they 
 never did before, and strangest of all, open my eyes to the 
 fact that apple-trees bear flowers as well as pippins. I can't 
 even go by a wild posy in the lane without thinking she'd like 
 it and see in it a sight more than I once could. I've been 
 taken in, as old Jonathan feared," he muttered, following 
 out his fancy with a sort of grim humor. " She isn't the 
 woman I thought I was marrying, at all, and I ain't bound 
 by my agreement — not in my thoughts, anyhow. I'd have 
 been in a nice scrape if I'd taken my little- affidavit not to 
 think of her or look upon her in any other light than that of 
 housekeeper and butter-maker. It's a scary thing, this get- 
 ting married with a single eye to business. See where I am 
 now. Hanged if I don't believe I'm in love with my wife, 
 and, like a thundering fool, I had to warn her against falling 
 in love with me ! Little need of that, though. She hasn't 
 been taken in, for I'm the same old chap she married, and 
 I'd be a mighty mean cuss if I went to her and said, ' Here, 
 I want you to do twice as much, a hundred fold as much as 
 you agreed to.' I'd be a fool, too, for she couldn't do it 
 unless something drew her towards me just as I'm drawn 
 towards her.'' 
 
 Late in the afternoon, he leaned on the handle of his 
 corn-plough, and in the consciousness of solitude said aloud, 
 " Things grow clear if you think of them enough, ~and the 
 Lord knows I don't think of much else any more. It isn't 
 her good qualities which I say over to myself a hundred 
 times a day, or her education, or any thing of the kind that 
 draws me ; it's she herself. I like her. Why don't I say 
 love her, and be honest? Well, it's a fact and I've got to 
 
298 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 face it. Here I am, ploughing out my corn, and it looks 
 splendid for its age. I thought if I could stay on the~ old 
 place, and plant and cultivate and reap, I'd be more than 
 content, and now I don't seem to care a rap for the corn 
 or the farm either, compared with Alida ; and I care for her 
 just because she is Alida and no one else. But the other 
 side of this fact has an ugly look. Suppose I'm disagreeable 
 to her. When she married me she felt like a woman 
 drowning ; she was ready to take hold of the first hand 
 reached to her, without knowing much about whose hand it 
 was. Well, she's had time to find out. She isn't drawn. 
 Perhaps she feels towards me somewhat as I did towards 
 Mrs. Mumpson, and she can't help herself either. Well, 
 well, the bare thought of it makes my heart lead. What's a 
 man to do ? What can I do but live up to my agreement 
 and not torment her any more than I can help with my 
 company ? That's the only honest course. Perhaps she'll 
 get more used to me in time. She might get sick, and then 
 I'd be so kind and watchful that she'd think the old fellow 
 wasn't so bad after all. But I shan't give her the comfort 
 of no end of self-sacrifice in trying to be pleasant and 
 sociable. If she's foolish enough to think she's in my debt, 
 she can't pay it in that way. No, sir ! I've got to make 
 the best of it now, — I'm bound to, — but this business 
 marriage will never suit me until that white arm I saw in the 
 dairy room is around my neck, and she looks in my eyes and 
 says, 'James, I guess I'm ready for a longer marriage cere- 
 mony.' " 
 
 It was a pity that Alida could not have been among the 
 hazel-nut bushes near and heard him. 
 
 He resumed his toil, working late and doggedly. At 
 supper he was very attentive to Alida, but taciturn and pre- 
 occupied ; and when the meal was over he lighted his pipe 
 and strolled out into the moonlight. She longed to follow 
 
HOLCKOFT'S BEST HOPE. 299 
 
 him, yet felt it to be more impossible than if she were 
 chained to the floor. 
 
 And so the days passed, Holcroft striving with the whole 
 force of his will to appear absorbed in the farm, and she 
 with equal effort to seem occupied and contented with her 
 houseliold and dairy duties. They did every thing for each 
 other that they could, and yet each thought that the other 
 was acting from a sense of obligation and so all the more 
 sedulously veiled their actual thoughts and feelings from 
 each other. Of course such mistaken effort only led to a 
 more complete misunderstanding. 
 
 With people of their simplicity and habit of reticence, 
 little of what was in their hearts appeared on the surface. 
 Neither had time to mope, and their mutual duties were in 
 a large measure a support and refuge. Of these they could 
 still speak freely, for they pertained to business. Alida's 
 devotion to her work was unfeigned, for it seemed now her 
 only avenue of approach to her husband. She watched 
 over the many broods of little chickens with tireless vigi- 
 lance. If it were yellow gold, she could not have gathered 
 the butter from the churn with greater greed. She kept the 
 house immaculate and sought to develop her cooking into a 
 fine art. She was scrupulous in giving Jane her lessons and 
 in trying to correct her vernacular and manners, but the 
 presence of the child grew to be a heavier cross every day. 
 She could not blame the girl whose misfortune it was to lead 
 incidentally to the change in Holcroft's manner, yet it was 
 impossible not to associate her with the beginning of that 
 change. Jane was making decided improvement, and had 
 Alida been happy and at rest thisfact would have given 
 much satisfaction in spite of the instinctive repugnance 
 which the ■ girl seemed to inspire universally. Holcroft 
 recognized this repugnance and the patient effort to disguise 
 It and be kind. 
 
300 HE FkLL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Like enough she feels in the same way towards me," he 
 thought, " and is trying a sight harder not to show it. But 
 she seems willing enough to talk business and to keep up 
 her interest in the partnership line. Well, blamed if I 
 wouldn't rather talk business to her than love to any other 
 woman ! " 
 
 So it gradually came about that they had more and more 
 to say to each other on matters relating to the farm. Hol- 
 croft showed her the receipts from the dairy, and her eyes 
 sparkled as if he had brought jewels home to her. Then 
 she in her turn would expatiate on the poultry interests and 
 assure him that there were already nearly two hundred little 
 chicks on the place. One afternoon, during a showei-, she 
 ventured to beguile him into listening to the greater part of 
 one of the agricultural journals, and with much deference 
 made two or three suggestions about the farm which he saw 
 were excellent. She little dreamed that if she were willing 
 to talk of turning the farm upside down and inside, out, he 
 would have listened with pleasure. 
 
 They both began to acquire more serenity and hopeful- 
 ness, for even this sordid business partnership was growing 
 strangely interesting. The meals grew less and less silent, 
 and the farmer would smoke his pipe invitingly near in the 
 evening, go that she could resume their talk on bucolic sub- 
 jects without much, conscious effort, while at the same time 
 if she did not wish his society she could shun it without dis- 
 courtesy. He soon perceived that she needed some en- 
 couragement to talk even of farm matters, but having received 
 it that she showed no further reluctance. He naturally 
 began to console himself with business as unstintedly as- he 
 dared. " As long as I keep on this tack all seems well," he 
 muttered. " She don't act as if I was disagreeable to her, 
 but then, how can a man tell ? If she thinks it her duty, 
 she'll talk and smile, yet shiver at the very thought of my 
 
ffOLCROFT'S BEST HOPE. 301 
 
 touching her. Well, well, time will show. We seem to be 
 getting more sociable, anyhow." 
 
 They both recognized this fact and tried to disguise it and 
 to relieve themselves from the appearance of making any 
 undue advances by greater formality of address. In Jane's 
 presence, he had formed the habit of speaking to his wife 
 as Mrs. Holcroft, and now he was invariably " Mr." 
 
 One evening, in the latter part of June, he remarked at 
 supper, " I must give half a day to hoeing the garden to- 
 morrow. I've been so busy working out the corn and pota- 
 toes that it seems an age since I've been in the garden." 
 
 " She and me," began Jane, " I mean Mrs. Holcroft and I, 
 have been in the garden." 
 
 " That's right, Jane, you're coming on. I think your im- 
 proved talk and manners do Mrs. Holcroft much credit. I'd 
 like to take some lessons myself." Then, as if a little 
 alarmed at his words, he hastened to ask, " What have you 
 been doing in the garden? " ' 
 
 "You'll see when you go there," replied Jane, her small 
 eyes twinkling with the rudiments of fun. 
 
 Holcroft looked at the child as if he had not seen her for 
 some time either. Her hair was neatly combed, braided 
 and tied with a blue ribbon instead of a string, her gown 
 was as becoming as any dress could be to her, her little 
 brown hands were clean, and they no longer managed the 
 knife and fork in an ill-bred manner. The very expression 
 of the child's face was changing, and now that it was lighted 
 up with mirth at the little surprise awaiting him, it had at 
 least attained the negative grace of being no longer repul- 
 sive. He sighed involuntarily as he turned away. " Just see 
 what she's doing for that child that I once thought hideous ! 
 How much she might do for me if she cared as I do ! " 
 
 He rose from the table, lighted his pipe and went out to 
 the doorstep. Alida looked at him wistfully. " He stood 
 
302 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 there with me once and faced a mob of men," she thought. 
 " Then he put his arm around me. I would face almost any 
 danger for even such a caress again." The memory of that 
 hour lent her unwonted courage, and she approached him 
 timidly and said, " Perhaps you would like to go and look 
 at the garden ? Jane and I may not have done every thing 
 right." 
 
 " Why, certainly. I forgot about the garden ; but then 
 you'll have to go with me if I'm to tell you." 
 
 " I don't mind," she said, leading the way. 
 
 The June sun was low in the west, and the air had become 
 deliciously cool and fragrant. The old rose bushes were in 
 bloom, and as she passed she picked a bud and fastened it 
 on her bosom. Woodthrushes, orioles and the whole chorus 
 of birds were in full sorig ; limpid rills of melody from the 
 meadow larks flowed from the fields, and tlie whistling of 
 the quails added to the harmony. 
 
 Holcroft was in a mood of which he had never been con- 
 scious before. These familiar sounds, which had been un- 
 heeded so much of his life, now affected him strangely, 
 creating an immeasurable sadness and longing. It seemed 
 as if perceptions which were like new senses were awakening 
 in his mind. The world was full of wonderful beauty before 
 unrecognized, and the woman who walked lightly and grace- 
 fully at his side was the crown of it all. He himself was so 
 old, plain and unworthy in contrast. His heart ached with 
 a positive, definite pain that he was not younger, handsomer 
 and better equipped to win the love of his wife. As she 
 stood in the garden, wearing the rose, her neat dress outlining 
 her graceful form, the level rays of the sun lighting up her 
 face and turning her hair to gold, he felt that he had never 
 seen or imagined such a woman before. She was in har- 
 mony with the June evening and a part of it, while he, in his 
 working clothes, Jiis rugged, sun-browned features and hair 
 
JTOICROFT'S BEST HOPE. 303 
 
 tinged with gray, was a blot upon the scene. She, who was 
 so lovely, must be conscious of his rude, clownish appear- 
 ance. He would have faced any man living and held his 
 own on the simple basis of his manhood. Any thing like 
 scorn, although veiled, on Alida's part, would have touched 
 his pride and steeled his will, but the words and manner of 
 this gentle woman who tried to act as if blind to all that he 
 was in contrast with herself, to show him deference, kindness 
 and good-will when perhaps she felt towards him somewhat 
 as she did towards Jane, overwhelmed him with humility 
 and grief. It is the essence of deep, unselfish love to depre- 
 ciate itself and exalt its object. There was a superiority in 
 Alida which Holcroft was learning to recognize more clearly 
 every day, and he had not a trace of vanity to sustain him. 
 Now he was in a mood to wrong and undervalue himself 
 without limit. 
 
 She showed him how much she and Jane had accom- 
 plished, how neat and clean they had kept the rows of 
 growing vegetables and how good the promise was for an 
 indefinite number of dinners, but she only added to the 
 farmer's depression. He was in no mood for onions, pars- 
 nips and their vegetable kin, yet thought, " She thinks I'm 
 only capable of being interested in such things and I've 
 been at much pains to give that impression. She picked 
 that rose for herself and now she's showing me how soon we 
 may hope to have summer cabbage and squash. She thus 
 shows that she knows the difference between us and that 
 always must be between us, I fear. She is so near in our 
 daily life, yet how can I ever get any nearer? As I feel now, 
 it seems impossible." » 
 
 She had quickly observed his depressed, abstracted man- 
 ner, but misinterpreted the causes. Her own face clouded 
 and grew troubled. Perhaps she was revealing too much 
 of her heart, although seeking to disguise it so sedulously. 
 
304 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 and he was penetrating her motives for doing so much in the 
 garden and in luring him thither now. He was not showing 
 much practical interest in beans and beete, and was evidently 
 oppressed and ill at ease. 
 
 " I hope we have done things right?" she ventured, turn- 
 ing away to hide tears of disappointment. 
 
 " Her self-sacrifice is giving out," he thought, bitterly. 
 " She finds she can scarcely look at me as I now appear in 
 contrast with this June evening. Well, I don't blam6 her. It 
 makes me almost sick when I think of myself, and I won't 
 be brute enough to say a harsh word to her. — You have done 
 it all far better than I could," he said, emphatically. "I 
 would not have believed it if you hadn't shown me. The 
 trouble is, you are trying to do too much. I — I think I'll 
 take a walk." 
 
 In fact, he had reached the limit of endurance ; he could 
 not look upon her another moment as she'- appeared that 
 evening and feel that she associated him chiefly with crops 
 and business, and that all her grateful good-will could not 
 prevent his personality from being disagreeable. He must 
 carry his bitterness whither no eye could see him, and as he 
 turned, his self-disgust led him to whirl away his pipe. It 
 struck a tree and fell shattered at its foot. Alida had never 
 seen him do any thing of the kind before, and it indicated 
 that he was passing beyond the limits of patience. " Oh, 
 oh," she sobbed, " I fear we are going to drift apart ! If he 
 can't endure to talk with me about such things, what chance 
 have I at all? I hoped that the hour, the beauty of the 
 evening and the evidence that I had been trying so hard to 
 please him would make him more like what he used to be 
 before he seemed to take a dislike. There's only one way 
 to account for it all, — he sees how I feel and he don't like 
 it. My very love sets him against me. My heart was over- 
 flowing to-night. How could I help it, as I remembered 
 
HOLCROFT'S BEST HOPE. 305 
 
 how he stood up for me ? He was brave and kind ; he meant 
 well by me, he means well now ; but he can't help his feel- 
 ings. He has gone away now to think of the woman that 
 he did love and loves still, and it angers him that I should 
 think of taking her place. He loved her as a child and girl 
 and woman — he told me so ; he warned me and said he 
 could not help thinking of her. If I had not learned to love 
 him so deeply and passionately, and show it in spite of my- 
 self, time would gradually have softened the past and^ all 
 might have gone well. Yet how could I help it when he 
 saved me from so much? I feel to-night, though, that I 
 only escaped one kind of trouble to meet another almost as 
 bad and which may become worse." 
 
 She strolled to the farther end of the garden that she might 
 become calm before meeting Jane's scrutiny. Useless pre- 
 caution, for the girl had been watching them both. Her 
 motive had not been unmixed curiosity, since having taken 
 some part in the garden work, she had wished to witness 
 Holcroft's pleasure and hear his praises. Since the actors in 
 the scene so misunderstood each other, she certainly would 
 not rightly interpret them. " She's losin' her hold on 'im," 
 she thought. " He acted just as if she was mother." 
 
 When Jane saw Alida coming towards the house, she 
 whisked from the concealing shrubbery to the kitchen again 
 and was stolidly washing the dishes when her mistress en- 
 tered. " You are slow to-night," said Alida, looking at the 
 child keenly, but the impassive face revealed nothing. She 
 set about helping the girl, feeling it would be a relief to keep 
 her hands busy. 
 
 Jane's efforts to comfort were always maladroit, yet the 
 apparent situation so interested her that she yielded to her 
 inclination to talk. " Say," she began, — and Alida was lop 
 dejected and weary to correct the child's vernacular, — "Mr. 
 Holcroft^s got somethin' on his mind." 
 
306 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Well, that's not strange." 
 
 " No, s'pose not. Hate to see 'im look so, though. He 
 always used to look so when mother went for 'im and hung 
 around 'im. At last he cleared mother out, and just before 
 he looked as black as he did when he passed the house while 
 ago. You're good to me an' I'd like you to stay. 'Fi's you 
 I'd leave 'im alone." 
 
 " Jane," said Alida, coldly, " I don't wish you ever to 
 speak to me of such thirlgs again," and she hastily left the 
 room. 
 
 " Oh, well," muttered Jane, " I've got eyes in my head. 
 If you're goin' to be foolish, like mother, and keep a-goin' for 
 'im, it's your lookout. I kin get along with him and he with 
 me, and I'm goin' to stay." 
 
 Holcroft strode rapidly up the lane to the deep solitude 
 at the edge of his woodland. Beneath him lay the farm and 
 the home that he had married to keep, yet now, without a sec- 
 ond's hesitation, he would part with all to call his wife wife. 
 How little the name now satisfied him, without the sweet 
 realities of which the' word is significant ! The term and 
 relation had become a mocking mirage. He almost cursed 
 himself that he had exulted over his increasing bank account 
 and general prosperity and had compiacendy assured him- 
 self that she was doing just what he had asked, without any 
 sentimental nonsense. " How could I expect it to turn out 
 otherwise? " he thought. " From the first I made her think 
 I hadn't a soul for any thing but crops and money. Now 
 that she's getting over her trouble and away from it, she's 
 more able to see just what I am, or at least what she natu- 
 rally thinks I am. But she doesn't understand me, — I 
 scarcely understand myself. I long to be a different man in 
 every way, and not to work and live like an ox. Here are 
 some of my crops almost ready to gather and they never were 
 better, yet I've no heart for the work. Seems to me. it'll 
 
HOLCXOFT'S BEST HOPE. 307 
 
 wear me out if I have to carry this load of trouble all the 
 time. I thought my old burdens hard to bear ; I thought I 
 was lonely before, but it was nothing compared with living 
 near one you love, but from whom you are cut off by some- 
 thing you can't see, yet must feel to the bottom of your 
 heart." 
 
 His distraught eyes rested on the church spire, fading in 
 the twilight, and the little adjoining graveyard. " O Bessie," 
 he groaned, "why did you die? I was good enough for 
 you. Oh, that all had gone on as it was and I had never 
 known " — 
 
 He stopped, shook his head and was silent. At last he 
 sighed, " I did love Bessie, I love and respect her memory 
 as much as ever. But somehow I never felt as I do now. 
 All was quiet and matter-of-fact in those days, yet it was real 
 and satisfying. I was content to live on, one day like 
 another, to the end of my days. If I hadn't been so con- 
 tent it would be better for me now. I'd have a better 
 chance if I had read more, thought more and fitted myself 
 to be more of a companion for a woman like Alida. If I 
 knew a great deal and could talk well she might forget I'm 
 old and homely. Bessie was so true a friend that she would 
 wish, if she knows, what /wish. I thought I needed a house- 
 keeper ; I find I need more than all else such a wife as Alida 
 could be — one that could help me to be a man instead of a 
 drudge, a Christian instead of a discontented and uneasy 
 unbeliever. At one time, it seemed that she was leading me 
 along so naturally and pleasantly that I never was so happy, 
 then all at once it came to me ^at she was doing it from 
 gratitude and a sense of duty, and the duty' grows harder for 
 her every day. Well, there seems nothing for it now but to 
 go on as we began and hope that the future will bring us 
 more in sympathy." 
 
308 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " NEVER ! " , 
 
 FOR the next two or three days Jane had no occasion to 
 observe that Alida was in tlie least degree obtrusive in 
 her attention to the farmer. She was assiduous in her work 
 and more diligent than ever in her conscious efforts to do 
 what she 'thought he wished ; but she was growing pale, con- 
 strained and silent. She struggled heroically to appear as at 
 first, but without much success, for she could not rally from 
 the wound he had given her so unintentionally and which 
 Jane's words had deepened. She almost loathed herself under 
 her association with Mrs. Mumpson, and her morbid thoughts 
 had hit upon a worse reason for Holcroft's apparent repul- 
 sion. As she questioned every thing in the sleepless hours 
 that followed the interview in the garden, she came to the 
 miserable conclusion that he had discovered her love, and 
 that by suggestion, natural to his mind, it reminded him of 
 her pitiful story. He could be sorry for her and be kind ; he 
 could even be her honest friend and protector as a wronged 
 and unhappy woman, but he could not love one with a his- 
 tory like hers and did not wish her to love him. This 
 seemed an adequate explanation of the change in their rela- 
 tions, but she felt that it was one under which her life would 
 wither .and her heart break. This promised to be worse 
 tlian what she had dreaded at the almshouse, — the facing 
 the world alone and working till she died among strangers. 
 The fact that they were strangers would enable her to see 
 their averted faces with comparative indifference, but that 
 
"NEVER I" 309 
 
 the man to whom she had yielded her whole heart should 
 turn away was intolerable. She felt that he could not do 
 this willingly, but only under the imperious instincts of his 
 nature — that he was virtually helpless in the matter. There 
 was an element in these thoughts which stung her woman's 
 soul, and as we have said, she could not rally. 
 
 Holcroft never suspected her morbid thoughts, and his 
 loyal, loving heart was incapable of dreaming of them. He 
 only grew more unhappy as he saw the changes in her, for 
 he regarded himself as the cause. Yet he was perplexed 
 and unable to account for her rapidly increasing pallor while 
 he continued so kind, considerate and especially so un- 
 obtrusive. He assuredly thought he was showing a disposition 
 to give her all the time she wished to become reconciled to 
 her lot. "Thunder!" he said to himself, "we can't grow 
 old together without getting used to each other." 
 
 On Saturday noon, at dinner, he remarked, " I shall have 
 to begin haying on Monday and so I'll take every thing to 
 town this afternoon, for I won't be able to go again for some 
 days. Is there any thing you'd like me to get, Mrs. Hol- 
 croft?" 
 
 She shook her head. " I don't need any thing," she re- 
 plied. He looked at her downcast face with troubled eyes 
 and shivered. " She looks as if she were going to be sick," 
 he thought. " Good Lord ! I feel as if there was nothing 
 but trouble ahead. Every mouthful I take seems to choke 
 me." 
 
 A little later he pushed away almost untasted a piece of 
 delicious cherry pie, the first of the season. Alida could 
 scarcely keep the tears back as she thought, " There was a 
 time when he would have praised it without stint. I took 
 so much pains with it in the hope he'd notice, for he once 
 said he was very fond of it" Such were the straws that were 
 indicating the deep, dark currents. 
 
3IO HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 As he rose, she said almost apathetically in her dejection," 
 " Mr. Holcroft, Jane and I picked a basket of the early- 
 cherries. You may as well sell them, for there are plenty 
 left on the tree for use." 
 
 " That was too much for you to do in ,the hot sun. Well, 
 I'll sell 'em and add what they bring to your egg money in 
 the bank. You'll get rich," he continued, trying to smile, " if 
 you don't spend more." 
 
 " I don't wish to spend any thing," she said, turning away 
 with the thought, " How can he think I want finery when 
 my heart is breaking? " 
 
 Holcroft drove away looking and feeling as if he were 
 going to a funeral. At last he broke out, "I can't stand 
 this another day. To-morrow's Sunday, and I'll manage to 
 send Jane somewhere or take Alida out to walk and tell her 
 the whole truth. She shall be made to see that I can't help 
 myself and that I'm willing to do any thing she wishes. 
 She's married to me and has got to make the best of it, and 
 I'm sure I'm willing to make it as easy as I can." 
 
 Jane was a little perplexed at the condition of affairs. 
 Mrs. Holcroft had left hei husband alone as far as possible, 
 as she had advised, but apparently it had not helped mat- 
 ters much. But she believed that the trduble she had 
 witnessed boded her no ill and so was inclined to regard it 
 philosophically. " He looks almost as glum when he's goin' 
 round alone, as if he'd married mother. She talked too 
 much and that didn't please him ; this one talks less and 
 less, and he don't seem pleased, nuther, but it seems to me 
 he's very foolish to be so fault findin' when she does every 
 thing for him top notch. I never lived so well in my life, 
 nor he, nuther, I believe. He must be in a bad way when 
 he couldn't eat that cherry pie." 
 
 Alida was so weary and felt so ill that she went to the 
 parlor and lay down upon the lounge. " My heart feels as 
 
" NEVER l" 311 
 
 if it were bleeding slowly away," she murmured. " If I'm 
 going to be sick the best thing I can do is to die and end it 
 all," and she gave way to that deep dejection in which there 
 seems no remedy for trouble. 
 
 The hours dragged slowly by ; Jane finished her house- 
 hold tasks very leisurely, then taking a basket, went out to 
 the garden to pick some early peas. While thus engaged, 
 she saw a man coming up the lane. His manner instantly 
 riveted her attention and awakened her curiosity and she 
 crouched lower behind the pea vines for concealment. All 
 her furtive, watchful instincts were awake, and her conscience 
 was clear, too, for certainly she had a right to spy upon a 
 stranger. 
 
 The man seemed almost as furtive as herself; his eyes 
 were everywhere and his step slow and hesitating. Instead 
 of going directly to the house, he cautiously entered the 
 barn and she heard him a little later call Mr. Holcroft. Of 
 course, there was no answer, and, as if assured, he approached 
 the house, looking here and there on every side, seemingly 
 to see if any one was about. Jane had associated with men 
 and boys too long to have any child-like timidity and she 
 also had just confidence in her skulking and running pbwers. 
 " After all, he don't want nothin' of me and won't hurt me," 
 she reasoned. " He acts mighty queer though, and I'm 
 goin' to hear what, he says.'' 
 
 The moment he passed the angle of the house she dodged 
 around to its rear and stole into the dairy room, being well 
 aware that from this position she could overhear words 
 spoken in ordinary conversational tones in the apartment 
 above. She had barely gained her ambush when she heard 
 Alida half shriek,^' Henry Ferguson ! " 
 
 It was indeed the man who had deceived her that had 
 stolen upon her solitude. His somewhat stealthy approach 
 had been due to the wish and expectation of finding her 
 
312 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 alone, and he had about convinced himself that she was so 
 by exploring the barn and observing the absence of the 
 horses and wagon. Cunning and unscrupulous, it was his 
 plan to appear before the woman who had thought herself 
 his wife, without any warning whatever, believing that in the 
 tumult of her surprise and shock she would be off her guard 
 and that her old affection would re-assert itself. He passed 
 through the kitchen to the parlor door. AUda,-in her deep, 
 painful abstraction, did not hear him until he stood in the 
 doorway, and, with outstretched arms, breathed her name, 
 Then, as if struck a blow, she had sprung to her feet, half 
 shrieked his name and stood panting, regarding him as if he 
 were a. spectre. 
 
 " Your surprise is natural, Alida dear," he said gently, 
 " but I've a right to come to you, for my wife is dead," and 
 he advanced towards her. 
 
 " Stand back ! " she cried sternly, " you've no right and 
 never can have." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I have," he replied in a wheedling tone. 
 " Come, come, your nerves are shaken. Sit down, for I've 
 much to tell you." 
 
 " No, I. won't sit down, and I tell you to leave me 
 instantly. You've no right here and I no right to listen to 
 you." 
 
 "I can soon prove that you have a better right to listen 
 to me than to any one else. Were we 'not married by a min- 
 ister?" 
 
 " Yes, but that made no difference. You deceived both 
 him and me.'' 
 
 " It made no difference, perhaps, in the eye of the law, 
 while that woman you saw was living, but she's dead, as I 
 can easily prove. How were you married to this man Hol- 
 croft?" 
 
 Alida grew dizzy; every thing whirled and grew black 
 
'•NEVER!'' 313 
 
 before her eyes as she sank into a chair. He came to her 
 and took her hand, but his touch was a most effectual restor- 
 ative. She threw his hand away and said hoarsely, " Do you 
 — do you mean that you have any claim on me ? " 
 
 "Who has a better claim?" he asked cunningly. "I 
 loved you when I married you and I love you now. Do 
 you think I rested a moment after I was free from the 
 woman I detested ? No, indeed ; nor did I rest till I found 
 out who took you from the almshouse to be his household 
 drudge, not wife. I've seen the justice who aided in the 
 wedding farce and learned how this man Holcroft made him 
 cut down even the ceremony of a civil marriage to one sen- 
 tence. It was positively heathenish, and he only took you 
 because he couldn't get a decent servant to live with him." 
 
 " O God ! " murmured the stricken woman. " Can such 
 a horrible thing be ? " 
 
 " So it seems," he resumed, misinterpreting her. " Come 
 now," he said confidently, and sitting down, " don't look so 
 broken up about it. Even while that woman was living I 
 felt that I was married to you and you only ; now that I'm 
 free " — 
 
 " But I'm not free and don't wish to be." 
 
 " Don't be foolish, Alida. You know this farmer don't 
 care a rap for you. Own up now, does he ? " 
 
 The answer was a low, half-despairing cry. 
 
 "There, 1 knew it was so. What else could you expect? 
 Don't you see I'm your true refuge and not this hard-hearted, 
 money-grasping farmer? " 
 
 " Stop speaking against him," she cried. " O God," she 
 wailed, " can the law give this man any claim on me, now 
 that his wife is dead ? " 
 
 " Yes, and one I mean to enforce," he replied, doggedly. 
 
 " I don't believe she's dead, I don't beheve any thing you 
 say. You deceived me once." 
 
314 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " I'm not deceiving you now, Alida," he said with much 
 solemnity. " She is dead. If you were calmer, I have proofs 
 to convince you in these papers. Here's the newspaper, 
 too, containirig the notice of her death," and he handed it 
 to her. 
 
 She read it with her frightened eyes and then the paper 
 dropped from her half paralyzed hands to the floor. She was 
 so unsophistica.ted and her brain was in such, a whirl of con- 
 fusion and terror that she was led to believe at the moment 
 that he had a legal claim upon her .which he could enforcei 
 
 " Oh that Mr. Holcroft were here ! " she cried desper- 
 ately. " He wouldn't deceive me ; he never deceived me." 
 
 " It is well for him that he isn't here," said Ferguson, 
 assuming a dark look. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she gaspecl. 
 
 "Come, come, Alida," he said, smiling re-assuringly. 
 "You are frightened and nervous and I don't wish to make 
 you any more so. You know how I would naturally regard 
 the man who I feel has my wife ; but let us forget, about him. 
 Listen to my plan. All I ask of you is to go with me to 
 some distant place where neither of us are known, and " '■ — 
 
 " Never," she interrupted. 
 
 " Don't say that," he replied, coolly. " Do you think 
 I'm a man to be trifled with after what I've been through ? " 
 
 " You can't compel, me to go against my will," and there 
 was an accent of teirror in her words which made them a 
 question. 
 
 He saw his vantage more clearly and said quietly, " I 
 don't want to compel you if it can be helped. You know 
 how true I was to you " — 
 
 " No, no, you deceived me. I won't believe you now." 
 
 " You may have to. At any rate, you know how fond I 
 was of you, and I tell you plainly, I won't give you up now. 
 This man doesn't love you, nor do you love him " — 
 
"NEVER!" 
 
 3IS 
 
 " I do love him, I'd die for him. There now, you know 
 the truth. You wouldn't compel a woman to follow you who 
 shrinks from you in horror, even if you had the right. 
 Although the ceremony was brief it was a ceremony, and he 
 was not married then as you were when you deceived me. 
 He has ever beeii truth itself, and I won't believe you have 
 any rights till he tells me so himself." 
 
 "So you shrink from me with horror, do you?" asked 
 Ferguson, rising, his face growing black with passion. 
 
 " Yes, I do. Now leave me and let me never see you 
 again." 
 
 " And you are going to ask this stupid old farmer about 
 my rights? " 
 
 " Yes, I'll take proof of them from no other, and even if 
 he confirmed your words I'd never live with you again. I 
 would live alone till I died." 
 
 " That's all very foolish high tragedy, but if you're not 
 careful there may be some real tragedy. If you care for 
 this Holcroft, as you say, _you had better go quietly away 
 with me." 
 
 " What do you mean? " she faltered, tremblingly. 
 
 " I mean I'm a desperate man whom the world has 
 wronged too much already. You,know the old saying, ' Be- 
 ware of the quiet man.' You know how quiet, contented and 
 happy I was with you and so I would be again to the end of 
 my days. You are the only one who can save me from be- 
 coming a criminal, a vagabond, for with you only have I 
 known happiness. Why should I live or care to live ? If 
 this farmer clod keeps you from me, woe betide him ! My 
 one object in living will be his destruction. I shall hate 
 him only as a man robbed as I am can hate." 
 
 " What would you do?" she could only ask in a horrified 
 whisper. 
 
 " I can only tell you that he'd never be safe a moment. 
 
3l6 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 I'm not afraid of him. You see I'm armed," and he showed 
 her a revolver. " He can't quietly keep from me what I feel 
 is my own." 
 ■" Merciful Heaven ! this is terrible," she gasped. 
 " Of course it's terrible. I mean it to be so. You can't 
 order me off as if I were a tramp. Your best course for his 
 safety is to go quietly with me at once. I have a carriage 
 waiting near at hand." 
 
 " No, no, I'd rather die than do that, and though he 
 cannot feel as I do, I believe he'd rather die than have me 
 do it." 
 
 " Oh, well, if you think he's so ready to die " — 
 " No, I don't mean that. Kill me. I want to die." 
 " Why should I kill you ? " he asked, with a contemptuous 
 laugh. " That wouldn't do me a particle of good. It will 
 be your own fault if any one is hurt." 
 
 " Was ever a woman put in such a cruel position ! " 
 "Oh, yes, many and many a time. As a rule, though, 
 they are too sensible and kind-hearted to make so much 
 trouble." 
 
 "If you have legal rights, why don't you quietly enforce 
 them instead of threatening ? " 
 
 For a moment he was cjpnfused and th^n said, recklessly, 
 " It would come to the same thing in the end. Holcroft 
 would never give you up." 
 
 " He'd have to. I wouldn't stay here a moment if I had 
 no right." 
 
 " But you said you would not live with me again ? " 
 "Nor would I. I'd go back to the - poor-house and die 
 there, for do you think I could live after another such expe- 
 rience ?. But my mind has grown clearer. You are deceiv- 
 ing me again, and Mr. Holcroft is incapable of deceiving me. 
 He would never have called me his wife unless I was his wife, 
 before God and man." 
 
'NEVER!" 
 
 317 
 
 " I'm not deceiving you in regard to one thing," he said, 
 tragically. 
 
 "O God, what shall I do?" 
 
 " If you won't go with me you must leave him," he replied, 
 believing that if this step were taken others would follow. 
 
 " If I leave him — if I go away and live alone, will you 
 promise to do him no harm ? " 
 
 "I'd have no motive to harm him then, which will be 
 better security than a promise. At the same time I do 
 promise.'' 
 
 " And you will also promise to leave me utterly alone ? " 
 
 " If I can." 
 
 " You must promise never even to tempt me to think of 
 going away. I'd rather you'd shoot me than ask it. I'm 
 not a weak, timid girl. I'm a broken-hearted woman who 
 fears some things far more than death." 
 
 " If you have any fears for Holcroft they are very rational 
 ones." 
 
 " It is for his sake that I would act. I would rather suf- 
 fer any thing and lose every thing than have harm come to 
 him." 
 
 " All I can say is that if you will leave him completely 
 and finally I will let him alone. But you must do it promptly. 
 Every thing depends upon this. I'm in too reckless and 
 bitter a mood to be trifled with. Besides, I've plenty of 
 money and could escape from the country in twenty-four 
 hours. You needn't think you can tell this story to Holcroft 
 and that he can protect you and himself. I'm here under 
 an assumed name and have seen no one who knows me. I 
 may have to disappear for a time and be disguised when 
 I come again, but I pledge you my word he'll never be safe 
 as long as you are under his roof." 
 
 "Then I will sacrifice myself for him," she said, pallid 
 even to her lips. " I will go away. But never dream that 
 
3l8 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 you can come near nic again — you who deceived and 
 wronged me, and now, far worse, threaten the man I love." 
 
 "We'll see about that," he replied, cynically. "At any 
 rate, you will have left him." 
 
 " Go," she said, imperiously. 
 
 " I'll take a kiss first, sweetheart," he said, advancing with 
 a sardonic smile. 
 
 " Jane ! " she shrieked. He'paused, and she saw evidences 
 of alarm. 
 
 The girl ran lightly out of the dairy room where she had 
 been a greedy listener to all that had been said, and a mo- 
 ment later appeared in the yard before the house. " Yes'm," 
 she answered. 
 
 " Be careful now, sir," said Alida, sternly. " There's a 
 witness." 
 
 " Only a little idiotic looking girl." 
 
 "She's not idiotic, and if you touch me the compact's 
 broken." 
 
 " Very well, my time will come. Remember, you've been 
 wameci," and^he pulled his hat over his eyes and strode 
 away. 
 
 " Bah ! " said Jane, with a snicker, " as if I hadn't seen 
 his ugly mug so I'd know it 'mong a thousand." 
 
 With a face full of loathing and dread Alida watched her 
 enemy disappear down the lane, and then, half fainting, sank 
 on the lounge. ' 
 
 "Jane>" she called feebly, but there was no answer. 
 
JANE PLAYS MOUSE TO THE LION. 319 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 JANE PLAYS MOUSE TO THE LION. 
 
 IT can well be understood that Jane had no disposition to 
 return to Mrs. Holcroft and the humdrum duties of the 
 house. There opened before her an exciting line of action 
 which fully accorded with her nature and she entered upon 
 it at once. Her first impulse was to follow the man of 
 whom she had learned so much. Not only was she spurred 
 to this course by her curiosity, but also by her instinctive 
 loyalty to Holcroft, and, it must be admitted, by her own 
 interests. Poor little Jane had been nurtured in a hard 
 school and had by this time learned the necessity of looking 
 out for herself. This truth, united with her shrewd, matter- 
 of-fact mind, led her to do the most sensible thing under 
 the circumstances. "I know a lot now that he'll be glad to 
 know and if I tell him every thing he'll keep me always. 
 The first thing he'll want to know is what's become of that 
 threatenin' scamp," and she followed Ferguson with, the 
 stealth of an Indian. 
 
 Ferguson was not only a scamp, but, like most of his 
 class, a coward. He had been bitterly disappointed in his 
 interview with Alida. As far as his selfish nature permitted, 
 he had a genuine affection for her, and he had thought of 
 little else besides her evident fondness for him. He was so 
 devoid of moral principle that he could not comprehend a 
 nature like hers and had scarcely believed it possible that 
 she would repulse him so inflexibly. She had always been 
 
320 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 SO gentle, yielding and subservient to his wishes that he had 
 thought that, having been assured of his wife's death, a little 
 persuasion and perhaps a few threats would induce her to 
 follow him, for he could not imagine her becoming attached 
 to such a man as Holcroft had been described to be. Her 
 uncompromising principle had entered but slightly into his 
 calculations, and so under the spur of anger and selfishness 
 he had easily entered upon a game of bluff. He knew well 
 enough that he had no claim upon Alida, yet it was in har- 
 mony with his false heart to try to make her think so.' He 
 had no serious intention of harming Holcroft, — he would 
 be afraid to attempt this, — but if he could so work on Alida's 
 fears as to induce her to leave her husband he beUeved that 
 the future would be full of possibilities. At any rate, he 
 would find his revenge in making Alida and Holcroft all the 
 trouble possible. Even in the excitement of the interview, 
 however, he realized that he was playing a dangerous game, 
 and when Jane answered so readily to Alida's call he was 
 not a little disturbed. Satisfied that he had accomplished 
 all that he could hope for at present, his purpose now was 
 to get back to town unobserved and await developments. He 
 therefore walked rapidly down the lane and pursued the road 
 for a short distance until he came to an old, disused lane 
 leading up the hillside into a grove where he had concealed a 
 horse and buggy. Unless there should be necessity, it was his 
 intention to remain in his hiding place until after nightfall. 
 
 Jane had merely to skirt the bushy hillside higher up, in 
 order to keep Ferguson in view and discover the spot in 
 which he was lurking. Instead of returning to the house, 
 she kept right on, maintaining a sharp eye on the road 
 beneath to make sure that Holcroft did not pass unobserved. 
 By an extended detour, she reached the highway and con- 
 tinued towards town in the hope of meeting the farmer. At 
 last she saw him driving rapidly homeward. He was con- 
 
JANE PLAYS MOUSE TO THE LION. 32 1 
 
 Bumed with anxiety to be at least near to Alida, even if, as 
 he believed, he was no longer welcome in her presence. 
 When Jane stepped out into the road he pulled up his 
 horses and stared at her. She, almost bursting with her 
 great secrets, put her finger on her lips and nodded por- 
 tentously. 
 
 " Well, what is it? " he asked, his heart beating quickly. 
 
 " I've got a lot to tell yer, but don't want no one to see 
 us." 
 
 " About my wife ? " 
 
 The girl nodded. 
 
 " Good God ! speak then. Is she sick ? " and he sprung 
 out and caught her arm with a grip that hurt her. 
 
 " Please, sir, I'm doin' all I kin for yer and — and you 
 hurt me." 
 
 Holcroft saw«the tears coming to her eyes and he released 
 his hold as he said, " Forgive me, Jane, I didn't mean to ; 
 but for mercy's sake, tell me your story." 
 
 " It's a long 'un." 
 
 "Well, well, give me the gist of it in a word." 
 
 " I guess she's goin' to run away." 
 
 Holcroft groaned and almost staggered to his horses' 
 heads, then led them to the roadside and tied them to a 
 tree. Sitting down, as if too weak to stand, he buried his 
 face in his hands. He could not bear to have Jane see his 
 distress. "Tell your story," he said hoarsely, "quick, for I 
 may have to act quickly." 
 
 " Guess yer will. Did yer know she was married ? " 
 
 "Certainly — to me." 
 
 " No, to another man — married by a minister. He's 
 been there with her." She little foresaw the effect of her 
 words, for the farmer bounded to his feet with an oath and 
 sprang to his horses. 
 
 "Stop," cried Jane, tugging at his arm. "If you go 
 
322 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 rushin' -home now, you'll show you've got no more sense 
 than mother. You'll spoil everything. She ain't goin' to 
 run away with him — she said she wouldn't, though he 
 coaxed and threatened to kill yer if she didn't. 'Fi's a man 
 I wouldn't act Uke a mad bull. I'd find out how to get 
 ahead of t'other man.'' 
 
 "Well," said Holcroft, in a voice that frightened the 
 child, " she said she wouldn't run away with this scoundrel 
 ■ — of course not — but you say she's going to leave. She'll 
 meet him somewhere — good God ! — but how should you 
 understand? Come, let me get home." 
 
 " I understand a sight more'n you do and you go on so 
 that I can't tell you any thing. If you showed sense you'd 
 be glad I was lookin' out for you so I could tell you every 
 thing. What's the good of goin' rampagin' home when, if 
 you'd only listen, you could get even with that scoundrel, as 
 yer call 'im, and make all right," and Jane began to cry. 
 
 " Oh, thunder ! " exclaimed the chafing man, " tell me 
 your story at once or you'll drive me mad. You don't half 
 know what you'r.e talking about or how much your words 
 mean — how should you? The thing to do is to get home 
 as soon as possible." 
 
 " You ain't ho reason to be so mad and glum all the 
 while," cried Jane, smarting under a sense of injustice. 
 " Here I'm a-tryin' to do for you, and you'll be sorry ernuff 
 if you don't stop and listen. And she's been a-tryin' to do 
 for you all along and she's been standin' up for you this 
 afternoon and is goin' to run away to save your life." 
 
 " Run away to save my life? Are you crazy?" 
 
 " No, but you be," cried the girl, excited and exasperated 
 beyond restraint. " If she is your wife I'd stand up for her 
 and take care of her since she stands up for you so. 'Stead 
 of that, you go round as glum as a thundercloud, and now 
 want to go ragm' home to her. Dunno whether she's your 
 
JANE PLAYS MOUSE TO THE LION. 323 
 
 wife or not, but I do know she said she loved you and 'ud 
 die for you, and she wouldn't do a thing that man asked but 
 go away to save your life." 
 
 Holcroft looked at the girl as if dazed. " Said she loved 
 me ? " he repeated slowly. 
 
 " Of course. You knowed that all 'long — anybody could 
 see it — an' you don't treat her much better'n you did 
 mother." Then, with an impatient gesture, she asked, " Will 
 you sit down and listen ? " 
 
 " No, I won't," he cried, springing towards his horses, 
 " I'll find out if your words are true." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Jane, contemptuously, " run right to her 
 to find out somethin' as plain as the nose on her face, and 
 run right by the man that was threatenin' her and you too." 
 
 Wheeling round, he asked, " Where is he ? " 
 
 " I knowj but I won't say 'nuther word till you stop goin' 
 on. 'Fi's a man I'd find out what to do 'fore I did any 
 thin'." 
 
 Jane had little comprehension of the tempest she had 
 raised in Holcroft's soul or its causes, and so was in no 
 mood to make allowances for him. By this time, the first 
 gust of his passion was passing and reason resuming its 
 sway. He paced up and down in the road a moment or 
 two, and then sat down as he said, " I don't half understand 
 what you've been talking about and I fear you don't. You've 
 evidently been listening arid watching and have got hold of 
 something. Now, I'll be as patient as I can if you'll tell me 
 the whole story quickly," and he turned his flushed, quiver- 
 ing face towards her. 
 
 " Theh I s'pose you'll scold me for listenin' and watchin' 
 that scamp," said the girl, sullenly. 
 
 " No, Jane, not in this case. Unless your impressions are 
 all mistaken I may have to thank you all my life. I'm not 
 one to forget those who are true to me. Now, begin at the 
 
324 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 beginning and go right through to the end; then I may 
 understand better than you can." 
 
 Jane did as she was told, and, many "says he's" and "says 
 she's" followed in her literal narrative. Holcroft again 
 dropped his face into his hands and before she was through 
 tears of joy trickled through his fingers. When she finished, 
 he rose, turned away, and hastily wiped his eyes, then gave 
 the girl his hand as he said, " Thank you, Jane. You've 
 tried to be a true friend to me to-day. I'll show you that I 
 don't forget. I was a fool to get in such a rage, but you 
 can't understand and must forgive me. Come, you see I'm 
 quiet now," and he untied the horses and lifted her into his 
 wagon. 
 
 " What yer goin' to do ? " she asked, as they drove away. 
 
 " I'm going to reward you for watching and listening to 
 that scoundrel, but you must not watch me or Mrs. Hol- 
 croft, or listen to what we say unless we speak before you. 
 If you do I shall be very angry. Now, you've only one 
 thing more to do and that is, show me where this man is 
 hiding." 
 
 "But you Won't go near him alone?" inquired Jane in 
 much alarm. 
 
 "You must do as I bid you," he replied, sternly. " Show 
 me where he's hiding, then stay by the wagon and horses." 
 
 " But he same as said he'd kill you." 
 
 " YoQ have your orders," was his quiet reply. 
 
 She looked scared enough, but remained silent until they 
 reached a shaded spot on the road, then said, " If you don't 
 want him to see you too soon, better tie here. He's around 
 yonder in a grove up on the hill." 
 
 Holcroft drove to a tree by the side of the highway and 
 again tied his horses, then took the whip from the wagon. 
 " Are you afraid to go with me a little way and show me 
 just where he is ? " he asked. 
 
JANE PLAYS MOUSE TO THE LION. 325 
 
 " No, but you oughtn'ter go." 
 
 " Come on, then. You must mind me if you wish to keep 
 my good-will. I know what I'm about." As in his former 
 encounter, his weapon was again a long, tough whipstock 
 with a leather thong attached. This he cut off and put in 
 his pocket, then followed Jane's rapid, lead up the hill. 
 Very soon she said, " There's the place I saw 'im in. If 
 you will go, I'd steal up on him." 
 
 "Yes. You stay here." She made no, reply, but the 
 moment he disappeared she was upon his trail. Her curi- 
 osity was much greater than her timidity, and she justly 
 reasoned that she had little to fear. 
 
 Holcroft approached from a point whence Ferguson was 
 expecting no danger. The latter was lying on the ground, 
 gnawing his nails in vexation, when he first heard the farmer's 
 step. Then he saw a dark-visaged man rushing upon him. 
 In the impulse of his terror, he drew his revolver and fired. 
 The ball hissed near, but did no harm, and before Ferguson 
 could use his weapon again, a blow from the whipstock 
 paralyzed his arm and the pistol dropped to the ground. So 
 also did its owner a moment later, under a .vindictive rain 
 of blows, until he shrieked for mercy. 
 
 " Don't move," said Holcroft, sternly, and he picked up 
 the revolver. " So you meant to kill me, eh? " 
 
 " No, no, I didn't. I wouldn't have fired if it hadn't been 
 in self-defence and because I hadn't time to think." He 
 spoke with difficulty, for his mouth was bleeding and he was 
 terribly bruised. 
 
 ",A liar, too," said the farmer, glowering down upon him. 
 " But I knew that before. What did you mean by your 
 threats to -my wife ? " 
 
 " See here, Mr. Holcroft, I'm down and at your mercy. 
 If you'll let me off I'll go away and never trouble you or 
 your wife again." 
 
326 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 "Oh, no," said Holcroft, with a bitter laugh. "You'll 
 never, never trouble us again." 
 
 "What! do you mean to murder me?" Ferguson half 
 shrieked. 
 
 "Would killing such a thing as you be murder? Any 
 jury in the land would acquit me. You ought to be roasted 
 over a slow fire." 
 
 The fellow tried to scramble on his knees, but Holqroft 
 hit him another savage blow, and said, " Lie still." 
 
 Ferguson began to wring his hands and beg for mercy. 
 His captor stood over him a moment or two irresolutely in 
 his white-heated anger, then thoughts of his wife began to 
 soften him. He could not go to her with blood on his 
 hands — she who had taught him such lessons of forbearance 
 and forgiveness. He put the pistol in his pocket and giving 
 his enemy a kick, said, " Get up." 
 
 The man rose with difficulty. ' 
 
 " I won't waste time in asking any promises from youj but 
 if you ever trouble my wife or me again, I'll break every 
 bone in your body. Go, quick, before my mood changes, 
 and don't say a word." 
 
 As the man tremblingly untied his horse, Jane stepped out 
 before him and said, " I'm a little idiotic girl, am I?" 
 
 He was too thoroughly cowed to make any reply and 
 drove as rapidly away as the ground permitted, guiding his 
 horse with difficulty in his maimed condition. 
 
 Jane, in the exuberance of her pleasure, began something 
 like a jig on the ^cene of conflict, and her antics were so 
 ridiculous that Holcroft had to turn away to repress a smile. 
 " You didn't mind me, Jane," he said gravely. 
 
 "Well/ sir," she replied, "after showin' you the way to 
 'im, you oughter not grudge me seein' the fun." 
 
 " But it isn't nice for little girls to see such things." 
 
 " Never saw any thing nicer in my life. You're the kind 
 
JANE PLAYS MOUSE TO THE LION. 327 
 
 of man I believe in, you are. Golly ! only wished she'd 
 seen you. I've seen many a rough and tumble 'mong farm 
 hands, but never any thing like this. It was only his pistol 
 I was 'fraid of." 
 
 "Will you do exactly what I say now? " She nodded. 
 
 " Well, go home across the fields and don't, by word or 
 manner, let Mrs. Holcroft know what you've seen or heard 
 and say nothing about meeting me. Just make her think 
 you know nothing at all and that you only watched the man 
 out of sight. Do this and I'll give you a new dress." 
 
 " I'd like somethin' else 'sides that." 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 " I'd like to be sure I could stay right on -with you." 
 
 " Yes, Jane, after to-day, as long as you're a good girl. 
 Now go, for I must get back to my team before this scamp 
 goes by." 
 
 She darted homeward as the farmer returned to his wagon. 
 Ferguson soon appeared and seemed much startled as he 
 saw his nemesis again. " I'll keep my word," he said, as 
 he drove by. 
 
 " You'd better," called the farmer. " You know what to 
 expect now." 
 
 Alida was so prostrated by the shock of the interview that 
 she rallied slowly. At last she saw that it was getting late 
 and that she soon might expect the return of her husband. 
 She dragged herself to the door and again called Jane, but 
 the place was evidently deserted. Evening was coming on 
 tranquilly, with all its sweet June sounds, but now every bird 
 song was like a knell. She sunk on the porch seat and 
 looked at the landscape, already so dear and familiar, as if 
 she were taking a final farewell of a friend. Then she turned 
 to the homely kitchen to which she had first been brought. 
 " I can do a little more for him," she thought, " before I 
 make the last sacrifice which will soon bring the end. I 
 
328 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. ' 
 
 think I could have lived — lived, perhaps, till I was old, i(- 
 I had gone among strangers from the almshouse, but I can't 
 now. My heart is broken. Now that I've seen that man 
 again I understand why my husband cannot love me. Even 
 the thought of touching me must make him shudder. But 
 I can't bear up under such a load much longer and that's 
 my comfort. It's best. I should go away now ; I couldn't 
 do otherwise," and the tragedy went on in her soul as she 
 feebly prepared her husband's meal. 
 
 At last Jane came in with her basket of peas. Her face 
 was so impassive as to suggest that she had no knowledge 
 of any thing except that there had been a visitor, and Alida 
 had sunk into such depths of despairing sorrow that she 
 scarcely noticed the child. , 
 
'•SHRINK FROM YOU V 329 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 "shrink from you?" 
 
 HOLCROFT soon came driving slowly up the lane as if 
 nothing unusual was on his mind. Having tied his 
 horses, he brought in an armful of bundles and said, kindly, 
 " Well, Alida, here I am again, and ,1 guess I've brought 
 enough to last well through haying time." 
 
 "Yes," she replied, with averted face. This did not 
 trouble him any now, but her extreme pallor did and he 
 added, "You don't look well. I wouldn't mind getting 
 much supper to-night. Let Jane do the work." 
 
 " I'd rather do it," she replied. 
 
 " Oh, well," — laughing pleasantly, — " you shall have your 
 own way. Who has a better right than you, I'd like to 
 know ? " 
 
 " Don't speak that way," she said almost harshly, under 
 the tension of her feelings. "I — I can't stand it. Speak 
 and look as you did before you went away." 
 
 " Jane," said the farmer, " go and gather the eggs." 
 
 As soon as they were alone, he began gently, " Alida " — 
 
 " Please don't speak so to me to-day. I've endured all I 
 can. I can't keep up another minute unless you let things 
 go on as they were. To-morrow I'll try to tell you all. It's 
 your right." 
 
 " I didn't mean to say any thing myself till after supper 
 and perhaps not till to-morrow, but I think I'd better. It 
 will be better for us both and our minds will be more at 
 rest. Come with me into the parlor, Alida." 
 
330 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 " Well, perhaps the sooner it's over the better," she said, 
 faintly and huskily. 
 
 She sunk on the lounge and looked at him with such 
 despairing eyes that tears came into his own. 
 
 " Alida," he began hesitatingly, "after I left you this noon 
 I felt I must speak with and be frank with you." 
 
 " No, .no,"^she cried, with an imploring gesture, "if it 
 must be said, let me say it. I couldn't endure to hear it 
 from you. Before you went away I understood it all, and 
 this afternoon the truth has been burned into my soul. That 
 horrible man has been here — the man I thought my hus- 
 band — and he has made it clearer, if possible. I don't 
 blame you that you shrink from me as if I were a leper. I 
 feel as if I were one." 
 
 " / shrink from you ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes. Can you think I haven't seen the repugnance 
 growing in spite of yourself? When I thought of that man 
 — especially when he came to-day — I understood w/iy too 
 well. I cannot stay here any longer. You'd try to be kind 
 and considerate, but I'd know how you felt all the time. It 
 would not be safe for you and it would not be right for me 
 tO' stay, either, and that settles it. Be — be as kind to me — 
 as you can a few — - a few hours longer and then let me go 
 quietly." Her self-control gave way, and burying her face 
 in her hands, she sobbed convulsively. 
 
 In a moment he was on his knees beside her, with his arm 
 about her waist. "Alida, dear Alida," he cried, "we've 
 both been in the dark about each other. What I resolved 
 to do when I started for town was to tell you that I had 
 learned to love you and to throw myself on your mercy. I 
 thought you saw that I was loving you and that you couldn't 
 bear to think of such a thing in an old, homely fellow 
 like me. That was all that was in my mind, so help me 
 God ! " 
 
" SHRINK FROM YOUf" 3 3 1 
 
 "But — but he's been here," she faltered, "you don't 
 realize " — 
 
 " I don't believe I do or can, yet, Alida dear, but that 
 blessed Jane's spying trait has served me the best turn in 
 the world. She heard every brave word you said and I 
 shed tears of joy when she told me ; and tears are slow 
 coming to my eyes. You think I shrink from you, do you ? " 
 and he kissed her hands passionately. " See," he cried, " I 
 kneel to you in gratitude for all you've been to me and are 
 to me." 
 
 " O James, please rise. It's too much." 
 
 " No, not till you promise to go with me to a minister and 
 hear me promise to love, cherish — yes, in your case I'll 
 promise to obey." 
 
 She bowed her head upon his shoulder in answer. Spring- 
 ing up, he clasped her close and kissed away her tears as 
 he exclaimed, " No more business marriage for me, if you 
 please. There never was a man so in love with his wife." 
 
 Suddenly she looked up and said, fearfully, " James, he 
 threatened you. He said you'd never be safe a moment as' 
 long as I stayed here." 
 
 His answer was a peal of laughter. "I've done more than 
 threaten him. I've whipped him within an inch of his life, 
 and it was the thought of you that led me, in my rage, to 
 spare his life. I'll tell you all — I'm going to tell you every 
 thing now. How much trouble I might have saved if I had 
 told you my thoughts. What was there, Alida, in an old 
 fellow like me that led you to care so ? " 
 
 Looking up shyly, she replied, " I think it was the man 
 in you — and — then you stood up for me so." 
 
 " Well, love is bhnd, I suppose, but it don't seem to me 
 that mine is. There never was a man so taken in at his 
 marriage. ' You were so different from what I expected that 
 I began loving you before I knew it, but I thought you were 
 
332 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. 
 
 good to me just as you were to Jane — from a sense of duty 
 — and that you couldn't abide me personally. So I tried 
 to keep out of your way. And, Alida dear, I thought at 
 first that I was taken by your good traits and your educa- 
 tion and all that, but I found out at last that I had fallen in 
 love with you. Now you know all. You feel better now, 
 don't you?" 
 
 "Yes," she breathed softly. 
 
 " You've had enough to wear a saint out," he continued, 
 kindly. " Lie down on the lounge and I'll bring your sup- 
 per to you." 
 
 " No, please. It will do me more good to go on and act 
 as if nothing had happened." 
 
 " Well, have your own way, little wife. You're boss now, 
 sure enough." 
 
 She drew him to the porch and together they looked upon 
 the June landscape which she had regarded with such 
 despairing eyes an hour before. 
 
 " Happin~ess never kills, after all," she said. 
 
 "Shouldn't be alive if it did," he replied. "The birds 
 seem to sing as if they knew." 
 
 Jane emerged from the barn door with a basket of eggs 
 and Alida sped away to meet her. The first thing the child 
 knew the arms of her mistress were about her neck and she 
 was kissed again and again. 
 
 "What did you do that for?" she asked. 
 
 "You'll understand some day." 
 
 " Say," said Jane, in an impulse of good-will, " if you're 
 only half married to Mr. Holcroft, I'd go the whole figure, 
 'fi's you. If you'd a seen him a-thrashin' that scamp you'd 
 know he's the man to take care of you." 
 
 " Yes, Jane, I know. He'll take care of me always.'' 
 
 The next morning Holcroft and Alida drove to town and 
 went to the church which she and her mother used to attend. 
 
"SHRINK FROM YOUf" 333 
 
 After the service, they followed the clergyman home, where 
 Alida again told him her story, though not without much 
 help from the farmer. After some kindly reproach that she 
 had not brought her troubles to him at first, the minister 
 performed a ceremony which found deep echoes in both 
 their hearts. 
 
 Time and right, sensible living soon remove prejudice 
 from the hearts of the good and stop the mouths of the 
 cynical and scandal-loving. Alida's influence, and the 
 farmer's broadening and more unselfish views, gradually 
 .brought him into a better understanding of his faith, and 
 into a kinder sympathy and charity for his neighbors than 
 he had ever known. His relations to the society pf which 
 he was a part became natural and friendly, and his house a 
 pretty and a hospitable home. Even Mrs. Watterly eventiv 
 ally entered its portals. She and others were compelled to 
 agree with Watterly, that Alida was not of the " common 
 sort," and that the happiest good fortune which could befall 
 any man had come to Holcroft when he fell in love with 
 his wife. 
 
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