"Mrs Lorrimer's Folly."

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXV, Issue 10713, 8 May 1913, Page 2

"Mrs Lorrimer's Folly."

(OUR StRiAL

By Charlotte M. Stanley. Author of "Kdna's Vow," "Hi* Country Cousin," "How an Oath Was Kept," "A Woman Wronged."

CHAPTER I

MR. A XI) MRS LORR.BIER. "I wish," said pretty little Mrs Lorrimer, giving her crimson bonnet strings an impatient- twitch, and looking at her husband with bright, angry eyes, "1 wish thai I had never seon your face!"' , She tore the charming little bonnetoff as she uttered the words and flung it with all tho force of a fiery temper across tho. room and on to the bed. There was a baby sleeping on the . lied, and the bonnet struck it quite a blow, and awoke it, and set it crying. At that Mrs Lorrimer flow after tho bonnet, dashed it on the floor, and stamped upon it, mue.li as a. spoiled and angry child have done. Then she (aught up the baby, carried ifc to her chair, and gave it a. shake and a. slap for crying. It was only a you lip; baby, probably between five and six months old, and the slap and shake were quite, out of proportion to its size and .strength, and set it gasiping terribly; whereupon the yearng mother, in an agony of remorse, kissed it passionately again and again, and burst out crying vio-i lently. «■ ]

Of all this exhibition -of "temper and folly, hey husband and. father, Fred Lorrimer, aged twenty-two, was a .shocked though s'lent witness, looking on with a mingled disgust, contempt and incredulity that said plaixdy: "Is this the sort of woman I have married? is this vain, headstrong, undisciplined girl the creature whom I have chosen to be the companion of ray life and the custodian of my son's j infancy? Is this silly virago, who*] cries and storms for the Joss of a! frivolous and senseless pleasure, my Avife?"

And by this ha.sty and harsh judgment of her lie wronged her as much (without for one moment suspecting it) as slip wronged him by the display of temper and folly which so disgusted him. They were hut boy and girl, this young husband and wife, who were \ quarrelino; S 'o foolishly and :so hotly. Lillian Hoss had .been just' sixteen, and Fred Lorrimer not quite twentyone when they married—just a year and a half before the day on whioh our story opens. Lillian Jiad been left a friendless and penniless orphan one full year before, and had supported herself, poor, lone child! as clerk in a store where Fred was also employed, and 'where they first met and learned to lovo each other. Both being so very lonely (Lillian had never l-'-own any relative but her mother. :::id Fred had come from England at nineteen: to try hia fortunes in America, and neither of tliem had any real friends or home), and both being ardently in love, it is not surprising that they found their sole Tiappmess in eaoh other's society, and soon began to think of being united. And really, situated as they were, with Lillian so utterly unprotected and alone, and giving promise of no ordinary beauty, it i« difficult to say what safer or wiser course was open to these young pwnlo than that.of an immediate marriage. Married they were, accordingly, and for a. year or more—indeed. until some little time after the baby's birth—nothing but happiness came of it. But then came trouble. Lillian, who had iretained her place in the st/>re as long as her health, permitted, and who, even long after that, had been supplied with delicate beadwork to do at home—Lillian was long in recovering her strength, and even when she did recover could not leave the baby, who was delicate. A return to her place in the storo was out of the question, and as Imvul trimmings were going out of fashion , neither was that resource available, was that resource available. Thus the young couple found their small income curtailed by nearly Jialf at the very moment when their actual expenses were almost doubled.

The pressure was not felt at t,he very first. Thoy had been economical, and out of their little earnings I>acl saved' a little, by means of which they tided over the emergency bravely enough for a while, hoping tlm* ha by would grow strong and -well. and t-ha.t some kind of work would offer itself for Lillian. But neither of these things happened ; and meantime their anxieties increased as their little hoaixl decreased dailv and hourly. Fred, in spite of his boyish record of twenty'-two years, behaved like a true man and a good husband and father; and therefore in I,lie greater sorrow that came upon him later—although I do nob hold him, free from blame —lie has my respect and sympathy. He deserved a happier fate, I think, than came to him because of a paltry quarrel and its bitter and far-reaching consequences. He behaved like a true man. Kept hard and close at work in the store all day, he nevertheless contrived to get some books to put fand keep) in order in the evenings; and thus, by cheerfully giving up all rest and leisure time, to acid, a very little to .their means. Yet lie never murmured!. Though his watch and chain and a ring had disappeared; and though his clothes were beginning to look shabby, and his boots threatened to play him false (serious troubles to a dry-goods clerk, whose situation depends largely on his appearance), .still no one heard ,him utter a complaining word. He looked somewhat careworn and pale; hut if you had asked him the cause of that, he would have tol<j you "anxiety about his son." He was, indeed, devotedly fond of the child, and would have made any sacrifice to do it good or obtain for it that "fresh, country air" which the doctor considered so desirable. All that) he, could do..for, it and for Lil-

lian ho did. Poor Fred! At last, quite early in the morning of tliat eventful and unluokv Saturday on which our .story and M.r and Mrs Lorrimer's real troubles began, as Fred was going as usual down to the store, who should he meet, suddenly and most unexpectedly, but an old .friend, a well-to-do and influential friend whom he had know u in England; and lo! the opportunity to better the circumstances of his wife and child, for which he had so often longed and pined, was offered to him instantly. Of couirse, the rose had thorns around it. This friend of his wanted a person (in whom he could implicitly confide) to proceed 'to England for tho transaction of Mme private (business which would detain liim there two or three months. The pay would bo very handsome, and he could have considerable of it. if desired, in advance. Fred would thus bo enabled to obtain for his son the change of air which was so necessary, and to leave Lillian comfortably provided Tor. But to leave Lillian! Ah! this was a thorn which pierced him to the very heart; he must "leave Lillian!"

And suddenly, too. The business admitted of no delay ; his friend would have had him, if possible, start that very day; but. failing that, he must leave within three days at the least. Well, Lillian must be consulted, of course. Her young .husband could not take her fate, as well as his own, so entirely into his own hands without giving her a voice in the decision.

\He explained this to his friend, and also that, wring to his engagement at the store, he .should not see her uwtiil four o'clock (they closed alt half-past three on Saturdays). What vras tihe utmost limit of time which tlisy could have to talk it over and make up their minds? The answer came, after a brief consideration,. ' "until midnight." "Conip to my hotel," said his friend, John Kllinger, handing bim a card, "any time this iside of midnight. And so) you're married, are you? .God bless us! And so young! And 'a young man married is a young man marred, 1 they .say. though I don't, see why he should be. Well, any time this side of midnight." That was a long and dreary day to Fred, and brought him no nearer to a decision. Now it seemed that Mr. Ellinger's offer must he accepted; then it .seemed as if to leave his dear oney would be impossible. After all his cogitations the question remained just where it. had been at first—waiting .for Lillian to decide it. Half past three came at last, and he hastened home to her. Their two weire in a tenement house and, up two flights of stairs. Never, perhaps, had Fred ascended those stairs so quickly. He threw open the door of the outer room; Lillian was not there; the bedroom —yes ; there she was. Fred stood still upon the threshold, agliast with surprise at the brilliant and (to him) utterly unaccountable figure which hus wife presented. She did not see him. Her back was toward him, and she was humming so merrily (with a needle and thread in her mouth the while, that she did not hear him, either. She had l>eeJi out, for her coquettish little •bonnet was on her pretty little head, and her mantle was lying on a chair. But these were not the matters that surprised him. His startled eves rested on a ball dross, a very costly and handsome ball dress,-' which Lillian was apparently trying on. Trying on over her owii dress, too. As <jhe gave it. a vigorous kick to properly adjust the train, and turned her head to observe the effect of it. she saw Fred, and 1 sprang .rund wth a funny little exclamation of dismay. "You've oatight me!" she cried; and it struck Fred that her tone hf>d a touch of real annoyance in it. "You've stumbled upon a secret, you provoking boy! 1 ' And she certainly poutled a little as she took off the dress and .spread it carefully over the foot of the bed. (To be Continued.)