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350 Supplication, Julia C. R. Dorr
749 Wagner Number, At the Concert: A, Ma-
rion Couthouy Smith
796 Where? R. H. Stoddard
Winter Twilight, A, John B. Tabb
574 My Musical Critic
Carpets of the Year, The
715 Note on Mirrors, A
570 Reminiscence of the Kearsarge, A
Decline of the Amateur, The :
859 Runaway River, A
Running a Quotation to Earth
141 Rustic in New York, A.
426 Traveler's England, The
Adams, Charles Francis: Massachusetts,
its Historians and its History,
Jebb, R.C:: The Growth and Influence of
Classical Greek Poetry
and Other Tales ; Deephaven
King, Grace: Balcony Stories .
Leroy-Beaulieu, Anatole: The Empire of
Smith, Schoolmistress and Nonconform-
Wendell, Barrett: Stelligeri, and Other Es-
A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics.
VOL. LXXIII. - JANUARY, 1894. — No. cccCXXXV.
PHILIP AND HIS WIFE.
I'll tell you what you may do, Lyssie. * Now, mother dear, you are all com- You may go over and ask Susy Carr to fortable, are n't you?
Here is your
come in some time this morning. If she Prayer-Book. See, I have put the roses is out anywhere on the farm, see if you over on the chest of drawers ; I don't be- can't find her, and tell her I hope she 'll lieve you 'll notice the fragrance here." come. It's very foolish in me, but I
Mrs. Drayton moved her head lan- don't like to be alone. I think I feel guidly and glanced about. “Yes, as my loneliness more as I grow
older.” comfortable as I can be. But I'm used “I wish papa were going to be at to being uncomfortable. I think per- home this summer,” Lyssie said. “Of haps you might move my chair just a course it ’s lonely for you with only me." little further.from the windows, Lyssie. “I was n't finding fault with your faMight n't I feel a draft here ? "
ther,” Mrs. Drayton answered quickly, This was too important a question for “and I have no complaint to make when
I a mere “yes” or “no." Alicia Dray- I have you ; but now Cecil and Philip ton knelt down beside her mother, and are coming, I suppose I sha'n't see any
Ι leaned her fresh young cheek towards
you." the closed window. “I don't feel the “Of course you will; and Cecil and slightest air, dear,” she said anxiously. Philip and Molly, too.”
“Ah, well, you! I suppose you don't. “Oh, don't call the child by that What color you have, Lyssie! I don't ridiculous name!” said Molly's grandsee why I have n't some of your health. mother, or rather, her step-grandmother, I'm sure, when you were born, I gave “though her real name is ugly enough, you all of mine."
poor child. Why Cecil should have “ If you would just go out a little bit named the baby after Philip's mother, more?" Alicia suggested hopefully. when she never knew her, and could n't
"Oh, my dear, don't be foolish,” said have had any affection for her, I never Mrs. Drayton. “Go out! How can I could understand.” go out? It tires me to walk across the Mrs. Drayton's unspoken inference room. Yes, you had better move my that it would have been more fitting to chair. I'm sure there is a little air." have given her name to the child did
"Well,” Alicia said cheerfully, “there! not escape Alicia ; but inferences are Can you look out of the window if I put generally best left without comment, and you as far away from it as this?” she only said, "Well, dear, everything
"I don't care about looking out of the is in order now, so I'll run up to Cecil's. window," sighed Mrs. Drayton ; “there Eliza Todd is to bring a woman to help is nothing to see; and I'm going to read her with the windows, but I'm going
to take the covers off the pictures, and always pays me proper attention ; I must just see to the finishing touches. I think say that, in spite of Cecil's neglect." everything will be fixed by the time they Alicia Drayton was only twenty-one, get here; and I'll stop and ask Miss but she excelled in the art, which is Susan to come in and cheer you up.” taught to perfection in a sick-room, of
“Very well,” said Mrs. Drayton, with knowing when to ignore complaints. А that weary closing of the eyes which certain angelic common sense gave her at every one who has had the care of an once discrimination and tenderness, those invalid knows too well. “I want every- two qualities which must be together for thing to be nice for Cecil, I'm sure. But the full development of either. it's a little bitter to be so much alone.” “Yes, Esther will bring the eggnog
“Oh, I'll be back by dinner time,” at eleven,” she said cheerfully. “GoodAlicia reminded her brightly. “Do you by, mother darling.” She gave an anxwant me to take a bunch of poppies from ious thought, as she went downstairs, you for Cecil's tea table ?'
to that possible draft; and her face soWhy, of course,” said Mrs. Drayton, bered as she stood for a moment in the opening her eyes. “Cecil does n't really open doorway of the dark, cool hall, and
“ care for me No, don't interrupt me, saw the blaze of June sunshine over the Lyssie! I know. But no one can say garden. The thought of her mother sitI don't do everything in the world for ting all alone, in the half-light of lowyour dear papa's daughter. No one can ered curtains and bowed shutters, struck say she is n't exactly like my own child." on the girl's tender heart with a sort of
“Why, of course,” said Alicia sooth- shame at her own young vigor. She ingly.
knew how Mrs. Drayton's pallid face “ I don't know why you say
of and weak eyes
would have shrunk away course'!” cried Mrs. Drayton. “I'm from what she always spoke of as the sure there are a great many stepmothers “glare," and how the hot fragrance of who might have made a difference." the roses would have made her poor,
“I only meant of course you loved heavy head ache. “ But it does seem as Ceci,” Lyssie explained.
though she might look out of the win“I remember,” Mrs. Drayton pro- dow,” Lyssie thought, sighing. Yet she ceeded, with a hint of tears in her voice, had been content to let her mother be “I remember perfectly well, once, when comfortable in her own way.
From you were both little things, somebody which it will be seen that Miss Alicia asked Susy Carrówhich was Mr. Dray- Drayton was an unusual young woman. ton's child by his first wife.' I think Indeed, very early in life this girl had that shows how I treated Cecil."
displayed the pathetic common sense of Cecil's stepmother almost sobbed, and the child whose mother's foolishness her daughter had to stop to kiss and forces her into a discretion beyond her comfort her, though it was getting warm- years. The village had acknowledged er every moment, and the walk to her her merit long ago, — acknowledged it sister's house was long and sunny. with the slight condescension with which
“Oh, go, go!” said Mrs. Drayton. Old Chester commented upon Youth. I felt
you look over my head at the “A very good girl," said the village, clock. I'm sure I don't want to inter- “but” for Old Chester was apt to balfere with your plans about Cecil. I sup- ance its praise with a “but” — “it's a pose you've told Esther to bring me my pity the child has n't more accomplisheggnog at eleven? Give my love to ments. She's been so busy taking care Philip. I must say he's never let Cecil of her poor mother all these years that teach him to be disrespectful to me; he she has n't a single accomplishment."
Mrs. Drayton, however, would have After the calamity of his first wife's explained that an invalid could not be death, he had left the baby Cecil with expected to think of such trivial things his sister-in-law in Ashurst, and, dazed as accomplishments. “I've brought her and bewildered by his grief, had gone up to be a good child," said Mrs. Dray- away to forget. For several years he ton; and certainly nobody could deny wandered aimlessly about the world. that. In fact, Alicia's mother did very And when he drifted home again, and little beside read her Bible, and medi- found Cecil, with her mother's eyes and tate over certain small good books of her mother's name, - which made him the nature of Gathered Pearls and Daily wince whenever he had to address her, Foods. She kept a little stand at her - when he found her irritable and diselbow for her half dozen devotional, well- contented among her cousins in Colonel worn volumes. Thomas à Kempis was Drayton's household, why, then he marthere, and her Prayer-Book, dear with ried again. He did not love the child, , ase, and with flowers pressed between but it was hers, so it must have a home. the pages of especially significant saints' He took Cecil and went back to Old days, and small marginal ejaculations Chester, and opened up the house he had scattered through the Psalter, - ejacu- closed when his wife died. What the lations which Mrs. Drayton not infre- associations were, what strange certain. quently read aloud to her callers. There ties came to him of that dead wife's symwas also upon the stand a little calendar, pathy in his search for a new wife, he with a text, a hymn, and a prayer for did not confide to any one, least of all each day. This was a distinct interest in to Miss Frances Dacie, while he sought the poor sick lady's life, for there was the to impress upon her that his happiness element of surprise in tearing off each and her welfare, - a more truthful man slip; she was apt to inclose an especially might have reversed these adjectives, beautiful page to the correspondent to his happiness and her welfare depended whom she chanced to be writing, and she upon their marriage. Miss Dacie was · would add " True!” or underline a word thirty-one ; she yielded to his entreaty or phrase, to show how personal were without that foolish hesitation which these printed outbursts of religious feel younger ladies sometimes deem necesing.
sary. Then, having provided a mother Her husband, compelled by ill health for little Cecil, William Drayton found, to live abroad, was greatly favored in this in a year or two, that his health demandway. Yet he had been known to sayed foreign travel. that “ Frances's goodness was the worst “And the unfortunate part of it is," part of her.” Indeed, irreverent lips said Mr. Drayton, forty years old, gray, , whispered that Mrs. Drayton's goodness blasé, standing with his back to the firewas the peculiar disease which needed place in the Rev. Dr. Lavendar's study, European treatment.
— "the unfortunate part of it is, iny wife “But then, why did he marry her, is such a wretched invalid (she has never if he did n't want to live with her?” been well, you know, since little Lyssie the village reflected. “Everybody knew was born) she is n't able to go with me. what Fanny Dacie was. And why did She could n't stand traveling, and travelhe marry again, anyhow? His child by ing, King says, is what I need. My only his first wife had a good home with the consolation is that I can live so much Ashurst Draytons. He had no need to more cheaply in Europe, which of course marry again.”
is a good thing for Frances and the girls." Mr. William Drayton, however, had And thus it was that Mr. William Draythought differently.
ton became a fugitive from matrimony.
He did give a thought sometimes to “I'm glad papa did n't marry you ; the task which Miss Dacie had assumed that would have been worse than Mrs. because of her desire to promote his hap- Drayton,” her niece announced. piness. But he consoled himself by re- And then Mrs. Henry wept with Mrs. flecting upon her welfare. “She likes liv- William, and said she pitied her with ing in the Poindexter house,” he thought, all her heart; and nobody was more rehis cold, heavy eyes closing in a smile, joiced than she, when, at eighteen, Ce“and it's a great satisfaction to her to be cil, just home from boarding-school, bemarried, even if she does have to wrestle came engaged to Philip Shore. with Cecilla ; but I've no doubt that lit- “I rejoice on your account, dear tle monkey, Alicia, will improve Cecilla.” Frances,” she wrote to Cecil's stepmoThat Cecilla needed to be improved ther. “ What a relief it must be, after
one could deny. Her aunt, Mrs. your noble devotion of these eleven Henry Drayton of Ashurst, used to tes- years, at last to hand her over to a hustify to that emphatically.
band, — though I must say I pity the “I had that child seven years,” she young man !
The colonel and I are dewould say, “and nobody can tell me lighted to hear what an estimable peranything about her. She is the stran- son he is, though I'm sorry he has n't gest creature ! — though I'm sure I tried expectations from his uncle. However, to make her a good child. Poor Frances ! Cecil has money enough for both. I I must say I pity her.”
hope, for your sake, they will be marIndeed, Mrs. Henry Drayton had con- ried at once." tinued to try to make Cecil a good child But they were not married at once. even after she had handed her over, Philip spent three years in one of the “ with a sigh of relief,” to Mrs. William. Paris studios, and Mrs. Drayton was still
“Cecil, my dear, you ought not to obliged to endure her step-daughter's incall your mamma · Mrs. Drayton,'” she dolence, and willful ways, and occasional instructed her niece.
black tempers; and also her cold indif“My mamma is dead, and I don't love ference, not only to herself, but, it must Mrs. Drayton,” Cecil answered, with a be admitted, to Old Chester! little
pause between her slow sentences. When at last she married Philip “ That has nothing to do with it,” Shore, Old Chester drew a breath of said Mrs. Henry. “ She is your father's satisfaction. “Dear Philip,” it said, wife, and you should treat her with re- “such a really superior young man ! spect even if you don't love her; and it Now poor Cecil will improve." is n't respectful to say. Mrs. Drayton.' But, except that Philip took her away “I'd just as
• Miss Dacie,' for a year, no improvement was visible. the child said, “but I won't say 'mam- She came back when Molly was born, ma,' because she is n't
my mamma.” and then everybody said they hoped the Her aunt gasped, and cried, “You are baby would make a difference in Cecil. a naughty little girl! Of course you are
It did ; it added to the strange, passionnot to say “Miss Dacie ; ' she is your ate, untrained nature the passion of mapapa's wife, and”
ternity " How many wives can papa have?” “Though I don't care now what they Cecil interposed calmly ; " my mother say about me,” Cecil said languidly to is his wife.”
her husband, looking down at the small “ Your mother is a saint in heaven! head upon her arm; “I have this! And at least I hope she is,” said Mrs. Henry, really, Philip, you must admit I am of horrified. “If I were your mamma, I'd some value to Old Chester? I give it send you to bed without any supper.” something to gossip about. If I were