An Expensive Lesson.

Te Aroha News, Issue 166, 21 August 1886, Page 4 (Supplement)

An Expensive Lesson.

Mbs PiEKoy was not in good humour that day, as she sat at- the breakfast table pourng coffee for her husband and dispensing bread and butter to the three plump little Piercys. She was a handsome, over-dressed woman, with a good deal of false hair, frizzed and puffed and braided on the top of her head, and a complexion that bore remote witness to the constant use of cosmetics. And Mr Piercy, at the end of the table, was evidently ill at ease, as he broke his eggs and nibbled diligently at his roll. " But what was I to do, my dear?" said he, after a brief silence, which was by no means peaceful. "Do?" shrilly retorted Mrs Piercy. " Why, what do other people do ? Are we to keep a home for the indigent poor ? Or a refuge for the widowed and fatherless ?" " My dear, my dear," pleaded Mr Piercy, who was a small man. with thin hair and spectacles, " you may be a widow yourself, someday." "And if I am, I shall not go begging among my relatives, that you may depend on," said Mrs Piercy. " And, after all, she isn't any relative of you"rs— only your brother's wife. I'd like to know what earthly claim she has upon you ! I declare, the more I think of it the more I am amazed at the woman's presumption. Her very name is an aggravation, too. 'Plume Piercy,' indeed ! I'll wager my new lace pin that she was a second-rate actress when she married your brother. No, Mr Piercy, if you think that I " But here the torrent of the lady's eloquence was cut short by the unexpected appearance on the scene of the very subject of her objurgation— a tall, pretty woman of about four-and-twenty, whose wavy, gold tresses and delicately fair complexion contiasted vividly with the deep mourning weeds she wore. " A veil down to her feet !" mentally ejaculated Mrs Piercy. "And a six-inch bias band of the very best Courtland crape on her gown. I wonder who's expected to pay for all this ?" Abel Piercy, the kindest-heaited of little men, welcomed his brother's widow with genuine hospitality ; but Matilda, his wife, looked askance at her, with no fi iendly smile upon her countenance. "Of courso you Mill consider this youi home," said Mr Piercy, as he made ha^te to draw a chair close to the fire. " Until you are able to suit yourself somewhere else,'' crisply added his wife. The widow said little ; the only looked, with large, wistful eyes, from one to the other as fhe sat there, the morning sunshine turning' her hair locks to braided masses of gold, the pearly delicacy of her skin aious ing the liveliest envy in Mi\« Abel's heart j " Though of course it's only porno French balm or Circassian cream or other, that I haven't heard of," said she to heiself. But after Mr Piercy had buttoned on his overcoat and glove*, he came back to the breakfast room, while his wife was putting up the children's school lunches in the pantry. "I am not much of a talker, Plume," said he, in an odd, hesitating way; 'but you are welcome, my dear— very welcome ! And I hope you will try to feel at home Don't mind Matilda— just at fimt. She's a little peculiar, Matilda is, but I do assure you she " I' Mr Piercy!" uttered a sharp warning voice at this instant from the threshold. " Is it possible that you haven't started yel ? And you know how particular Budge & Budley are as to your getting at the store at nine precisely." Mr Piercy turned pink all over. "Yes, my clear— yes," paid he, " I'm quite sure to be in time !" And he started oft 1 on a gentle trot. When he was gone, Plume took off her bonnet and veil, removed her mantle and gloves, and went into the kitchen. "Can not I do something to help you, Sister Matilda?" said she, pleadingly. Mrs Abel Piercy looked, with cold blue eyes and lips firmly compressed, at (he fair face, which was younger and fresher than ever without the jet black circlet of the bonnet, and the slight, graceful tigute before her. " No, I thank you," said she, " I am not used to having fine ladies in my kitchen." • "But* if you will lend me an apron -— " " No, I thank you, Mrs Oswald Piorcy," repeated the housewife. "You will tind the newspaper in the hall. Perhaps the advertising columns may interest you." "We are sisters," said the young widow, with a quivering lip. " Will you not call me Plume ?" "Oh, no, we're no relations at all, in reality," said Mrs Abel Percy, weighing out ounces of sugar and pounds of flour with an unerring hand. "And really, your name is such a very peculiar one ; Jane, or Martha, or Eliza, would havo been more to my taste. Perhaps, however," with a keen sidelong glance, "you have been on the stage ?" "No," said Plume, "I was a teacher when Oswald mnrried me. ' But what did you mean about the advertising columns of the paper ?" " Situations, you know," said Mrs Piercy, reaching over to the raisin box. " Bridget, you have been at these raisins, as true as ,1 ive'l There's half of 'em gone since I was here last." • ' > "No, 1 mum, I h&von'fc !" sharply responded Bridget, -who was used to these citchen skirmishes. "Shurel never lived in a house before where they counted ,the raisins and the lumps o' coal, and if I doVt »Hit;JMwm,' i$ > Brit;mo|it8 r it;mo|ith > s'-warmnEP from to*dayi'if'ye's plaze.'* : ;^-> , ■*„--' ° <' * ' ' 11 " Situations'!'^' repeated -Plume,^ half 1 afraid; of 'BHdgeVi wftrlikfc demeanour,- half pu^leidft^h^Bi^fce^in^awV words; " w ■ '

attentipn^tp %i]ag^t,'find^her^kinet^.'fi^ a> iglovofaotory^you .know, p r »fapcy Btpro,! (Oiv even •as nursery/governess * or. j attendant'; to «ome^aplyjiny%rid,^r of cp^se, :you .knqw^'wfth another of those; oblique jl<M>ks{ .that made , ; Plume, feel so', uncomfortable, i ♦ '•you'expeotja ; &6rk for * your , living. v Wej are noVnch enough £o support,all our\rela-; tions. /Alters salary .w^a reduced .last year and no one knows ho w; strictly I have to economise in order to make both ends meet,; And a strong young woman like you ought! not to sit down on a sickly man with a family, like my husband, because——" •'Stop— oh, stop!" said Plume, lifting her, hand, as if to ward, off some invisible terror. "He said I was welcome. He told me- " ',' That's just like Abel 1 " said Mrs Piercy, scornfully. '? He'd take in all creation if he could. ,He never stops to think whether be can afford it or not." " I am sorry that I intrude," said Plume, with dignity. "It shall not be for l«ng. I will look at the newspaper at once." "Yes, that's a deal the best plan," assented Mrs Piercy ungraciously. "Of course you won't mention our little ohat to Abel. He might be vexed ; and after all, I'm only speaking for your good." Plume looked up to her with an expression j of face which somehow made Mrs Abel .Piercy feel as if she was shrinking up like a j withered walnut in its shell. "Yes, I know," said, Bhe; "But you need not be afraid; I, am no talebearer to make mischief in anyone's family." Mrs Piercy felt very uncomfortable after this conversation was ended. " How she did look at me !" thought she. " But I only spoke the truth, after all. We can't be burdened with her support, let,, Abel talk as he pleases. And no matter ' what she says, I believe she has been an actress ! No one but an actress could ever put on such royal ways as thafc J" Half-an-hour afterwards, when the bell rang, and someone inquired for Mrs Oswald Piercy, Mrs Abel nodded her head to the cake she was taking out of the oven. ' ' Company already, " said ehe ; ' ' and gentle: men company, as I live ! Weil, if this is the way she intends to go -on the sooner she suits herself with a situation the better !" Mrs Piercy had been secretly anxious for an opportunity of quarrelling with her sister-in-law. Here it was at last ; and when the old gentleman with the glossy broadcloth suit was gone, she bounced into the parlour with a red spot on either cheekbone like signals of war. "So you have been receiving company, Mi's Oswald ?" she said. " Yes," Plume innocently answered. "Gentleman company, too!" cried Mrs Piercy. "It was Mr Van Orden, my husband's lawyer, 1 ' explained Plume. " Oh, I daresay !" cried Mrs Piercy. " All that sounds very well ; but I have the character of my house to look to and' » "He is coming back with a carriage,' hurriedly spoke' Plume. "lam to go to his wife's house at once. Mrs Van Orden is willing to give me the shelter which my own relatives grudge me !" "I wish her joy of her bargain, I am sure," said Mrs Abel Piercy, with a toss ot the mountains of false hair thafc crowned her head. And so the two women parted, in no spirit of amity. "I daresciy she'll go straight to the store," thought Mrs Abel, "and invent a pitiful story for my hugband's benefit. And Abel will make a great fuss— Abel was always soft about his relatives—but I shan't mind ifc. I always have been mistress in my own house, and I always intend to be, Oswald's widow or no Oswald's widow." Nevertheless, she could not help feeling a little apprehensive when her husband came into tea. For when Abel really was an K*y> his anger signified something. But, to her surprise, he entered all smiles, and rubbing his palms gleefully. "So Plume has gone ? " said he. " Yes," said Mrs Piercy, pretending to be busy with a knot in the second child's shoe. " She has gone, but how did you know it? " " Van Orden stopped at the store to tell me," answered Mr Piercy. , "Strange, wasn't it ? And quite romantic too." " What on earth is the man talking about?" said Mrs Abel Piercy aroused at last into something like active interest. " Why, didn't P-ume tell you ? It seems I hat those last investments that poor Oswald fancied he had beggared himself with have turned up trump cards after all. And Van Orden tells me that Oswald's widow is worthy 150,000." Mrs Abel Pievcy turned first green, then crimson Al is for the fatal blunder she had committed. Alas for the ruined chances of her three little girls to inherit their aunt's money ! She made borne trivial excuse about a forgotten pocket handkerchief, and went upstair 3 to weep the bitterest of tears she had ever shed. It was a lesson to her, but it was an expensive one. For Plume Piercy, although she remained on the most excellent terms with her kind little brother-in-law, never \ crossed Mrs Abel's threshold again. She had been too deeply stung— too bitterly insulted there. "And it's all my own fault,' sadly reflected Mrs Abel. " Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! why can't we see a little 'way into the future?"