READY-MONEY MORTIBOY.

Grey River Argus, Volume XII, Issue 1481, 3 May 1873, Page 4

READY -MONEY MORTIBOY.

A MATTER-OF-FACT STORY. Chapter X. — Continued. " I'm sure I only want to be friendly" —beginning to whimper. " But it's hard, Avhen one sees her man after twelve years, not to get even a kind word." "If that's all you Avant," said Dick, " I've got lots of them put in a box on purpose. I'll give you as many kind words as you like -and kisses too, when no one's looking." "No one's looking now, Dick. And oh, hoAv handsome you've got !" Dick gave a look north, and another south, that is, up and down the lane. After this concession to nuptial modesty, he bestowed a brace of kisses, one on each of his Avife's buxom cheeks. She retnrned them with a warmth that rather embarrassed him. " And you've never asked about the boy, Dick," she said, reproachfully. " Ob, damn it ! Is there a boy?" " A beautiful boy, L>ick -the picture of his father." " And the boy's at Hunslope Farm, I suppose ?" " Then you suppose wrong, because he isn't. I Avent up to London, again directly after you went away and deserted me." " Hang it ! I had to go." " And never a letter, or a . message, or a woi'd, or a single sovereign." " Hadn't got any sovereigns." " Well, I went up to London, and the boy was born there, and nobody . ever knew anything about it, Dick. And there he is now at school, bless his heart! and noboby would ever believe he was twelve years old." Certainly there was more than one person in the Avorld who Avas ready to swear that the boy Avas no more than ten ; but then, Dick could not be expected to knoAv that. " And I lived in London for eight years in service. Oh ! good, Diek — I Avas always good. You believe that, don't you nvy handsome* husband ?" " Hiunph ! • Don't see any reason for saying, ' no' at present." "And then I came back here, and I've been at Hunslope ever since. And oh ! Dick, it's many a time I've been tempted to go to bld-Ready-money — " " Wouldn't you have a better chance with him if you called him Mr Mprtiboy?" " And say to him, ' I'm your laAvful daughter, and little Dick' — only his name is Bill— ' is your true and laAvful grandson, and if you're a Christian you'll do something for him. He'd have ought to have had every farclen of the old man's, money if you hadn't a come back. I've asked questions. Oh, Dick, I'm glad you're come." " My- father is a Dissenter, Polly. Perhaps his views of the duties of religion are different from GUl's. You and I are simple Church folk, you knoAv. But I'm glad you didn't." " No, I didn't. But Avhat are we to do now, Dick ? Am Ito come and live with you, as in duty bound ?" Here she smiled affectionately at him. Dick looked at her blankly. "Things are as they are," he said, repressing a violent inclination to use profane words. "We can't .undo Avhat's done. You knoAv, Polly, Avhat an unlicked cub I Avas when I married you." " You Avon't deny that, I hope V "That I Avas a fool?— oh! that I was married ! No. I would if I could; but I can't, because there's a register at the church of St. Pancras ; and though I was married under a false name—" " That makes no difference, Dick. I found it out from a lawyer." \ "Did you? Then you might have spared yourself'the pains. No, I'm not going to deny it. And if you hold your tongue, and say nothing to anybody, now I am back— we can meet of an evening, you know, sometimes— l'll do something handsome, for you- but if you talk, I'm off again. So there Aye are, and make no mistake." Polly said nothing. All her hopes were knocked on the head. She stood tAvisting a ribbon in her red, ungloved hands, and looking at the big man, her husband, who enjoined his laws upon her. But she was constrained to obey. There was something in Dick Mortiboy which made most people feel that it would be better for them to do what he told them. And all the time she had been planning a little design to make him pay for silence, or threaten to acknowledge him openly. It did seem hard, too. " Hoav are you off for money ?" " I've got none ; and Bill wants new clothes." " I'll go *md see Bill some day — not yet. Here's a ten pound note. Get the little devil— " "What, Dick, yoiu' own son?"

" What's the matter Avith the girl ? Get the young cuss a hcav pair of breeches, and don't bother me about Mm." . .. ""■,,.: He sat on a' rail by the side of the lane — for they had been Avalking up and doAvn — and put his hands in his pockets. "Upon my Avord, Polly, I had almost forgotten you — I had indeed. And when I saAv you at Hunslope, you might haA r e knocked me doAvn yourself, as big as I am." " And weren't you glad to see me, Dick?": : : ... " No— devilish sorry," said her husband, truthfully. "I expected to find you married again, of course." " Well, I { am' your Avife." " You said that before." " And I mean to be, too." "If you don't mean to do Avhat I tell you, it'll a,:j>oorr look-oiit for you! So you'd Better make no mistake on that point." " Don't be cruel, Diek — the very first day and all," said Polly, the tears of vexation rising to her eyes. The last hardening of a man's heart is the incrustation of that place where a Woman's teai^s take effect. Dick relented a little, and rje-stated his caseas a Avoman's lord and master should; but this time more kindly.

" Noav, this is the first and the last of it. If I'm to do anything for you, don't interfere. Don't come betAveen me and the old man. I'm not going to be a brute. I married you, and Aye can't get rid of that fact.f hands, Polly, go and home,* I'll Aviiteyoualetter to meet me again"' as sodri as I see an opportunity. We're all going to Hunslope Farm to dinner when they come home from church. But you must take no notice of me."

" No, I Avon't — no manner of notice," said. Polly. s "J['ni agoing „. to wait at ■.table,- :arid, Mi-s} jEfeathcote says I'mi to look after you especial."

" I kneAv a man down aAvay in Frisco, Polly, who Avas married tAven-ty years to a girl, Avithout a soul knoAving anything about it except Jthe parson, and he got shot in a difficulty."

" Did you, Dick ? It Avasn't yourself, Avas it ]"

"Now, how the devil could it be, when -JLVe only been c aAy^y.l{Welve years? Well, they 'had*' sixteen children, tAvo pah's of 'em tAvins. And nobody kneAv it, mind you. And then the man made his pot ; and now she rides about in her carriage. And the last time I saAv her she had on a blue satin dress, and a red cachemire shaAvl, and gold chains as thick, as rigging, ropes.- A pretty wroraatr she- is -still,-' •Poll," and able to enjoy it a.l. That Avas the reward of being silent, you see."

"Lor!" said Polly. "Dick, Old Ready-money— l mean Mr Mortiboy — is as rich as rich. And they say he ;Can't live lon£, because he has sold himjsejf to the* devil /for all his money. Would you give me a carriage and a gold chain?" -^ ) <? " Half a dozen gold chains and a carriage and four. And all Market Basing shall know that you're my . wife, Polly. Give me a kiss, old gal." _ They^mrjfced l- friends ! The. man wedt off in >the direction- of his' father's house : H;hewdman%> -visit her mother' at her little cottage in the town. Once they turned back to stare after one another. Their eyes met ! Could each have read the other's mind !