CHAPTER II.

Auckland Star, Volume XXIII, Issue 156, 2 July 1892, Page 12

CHAPTER 11.

Matters arranged themselves prefcty swiftly, pretty methodically, in the household of Benjamin Crowdor. People of his class settle down quietly to the surroundings, or seem to do so, which is about the same thing if no subterranean forces are at work, ominous of future upheavals. Twelve months after the wedding Mr Crowder and his young wife were quite an old married couple ; they had almost fallen into each other's ways, giving and taking, neither inexorable nor quarrelsome; both ready to make the best of ib, and the besb excuse for anything that mighb turu up to clog the machinery of home. And the shop in Barwick-street was home, after all though there were a few cynical, people who thought that Jency Jarles would never settle down to it; could not settle down to ib and its master and hers, and the master's old-fashioned ways. And there was Jenny, brisk and bustling, and light-hearted— almost—and proud of being Mrs Crowder : with a smile for all the customers, and with a quick, crisp-like way of serving the customers, which was very pleasant'to witness which had been a- pleasure for old Crftwfier to witness when he first went sneaking round to Jarles'a on one miserable pretext or another, and noticed Jenny's business-like superiority behind the counter fep all the other sisters pub together, whenjold Jarles told Mrs Jarles one night, in-.tihj recesses of their nuptial chamber oveWfihe shop, that if Crowder hadn't gob his eyes on their Jenny, well then—strike him blind ! Jarles was strong in his expletives, indeed, a man with considerable force of expression altogether was Jarle3— which helped him somewhat in his gouty seasons. Everything is sent for one's good, and ib was possible that strong language was better clean oub of Jarles's system than festering internally. He had had a slight explosion some twelve months affcer his Jenny's wedding-day, and a little talk with Crowder in the Bethnal Green Road. ' Jenny's all right, I hope ?' had been the father's first and most natural inquiry, Jenny lying tne closest to the pork butcher's heart. 'Oh, yes, Jenny's all right; first-rate,' said Crowder. 'You haven't been round bo see us lately.' { 'N no,' was the hesitating reply; 'I don't seem to care so much about going out in the eveuings, Ben, as I used to do. When we've worked off the nine o'clock faggotß and black puddings, the missus and I nave had about en ought of ib. Bub the girls come round and keep Jenny lively, don't they ?' • Oh, yes ! they keep her lively.' 'You see them often enough I suppose?' ' Quite often enough, thank you,' said Mr ' Cro»vder, with a little sigh.

' They're as much with Jenny as with

•They are,'assented Crowder, 'and, perhaps, if they—' And then Crowder was ominously eilent.

' Spit it out, Ben,' said Mr Jarlqa, unceremoniously and coarsely—he had not had a college education, bud he was evidently ft mm Ql kteo otjeervatjQp-'rT* M.

you've anything to say againsb my girls. I'd rather have ib said to my face "than be! bind my back, strike me dead if T wouldn't.' •Yes, yes, I know you like plain speaking, Jarles; so does Jenny —she's ag straightforward a3 the day.' 'She takes after me,' Mr Jarles re.. ' marked with a charming blandness that was almost naivete ; 'bub what was you going to say just now f 'Oh, well,' said the corn chandler ua« easily, for he was as afraid of hurting any, one's feelings as though he bad belonged to the upper ten; 'you pub the question * you see, and I felt bound to answer it; And to tell you the truth, I was in hopes that as time went on your daughters would drop off'by degrees, a little just a little. That's all.' ' Why the deuce didn't you tell them ao if they were in yiur way ? They're quickl enough to take a hint. Why, they wouldn't) ?. have darkened your doors after you had let 'em know they wasn't welcome.' 4 But they are wolcome,' said Crowder helpieesly *I like to see them now and then—of course—nob always, perhaps—but generally,'he added with a mild reserve* ' they're full of life and spirits, they keep Jenny going. I'm euro you can'b hear . yourself speak for all their laughing soine-t----times ; but they take up a deal of her time, and the accounts go back, you sea; and Jenny seems to think too much of the girls, and—and—' ' And too little of you, eh ? Well, our ' girls have always been a hunited lot,'said, Jarles ; ' you had&'t any right to expacb to shunt the whole blessed kib of'em when :! you took my Jenny away. Bub I'll think this over,'Crowder,'added Jarles, 'land ' the old woman together.' ; • Thank you ; I wish you would, Good morning.' Mr and Mrs Jarles thoughb it over and then book their daughters—seven of them • there were—into their confidence. There were ' a little excitement, a little crossexamination, and much talking all abonce of the Mieees Jarles. They understood the idea—oh, yes, trust them for that-id wasn't Jenny, she was always glad to see them; ip was nob Daddy Jarles, for what pleased Jenny pleased him, and he would not6ay boo—it was that aly, cross daughter of his who could nob abide them, and whom they could not abide. They would never L; enter the Crowder shop again, they cried, in one indignant chorus; they would wait : till they wero asked ; at any rate, if Jenny wanted to see them she knew where bo find I them, or to wribo to them and so on, ao! iiifinittim. Rumours of this ultimatum reached Jenny Crowder and startled and depressed her. Vexed her even, for Jenny was as quick to take offence aB the resb of the ; family. High-spirited, everybody said Jenny was, when the occasion demanded it. " 'This Sarah is at the bottom of it,'said Jenny also to her mother—she had gone round for explanations—'and I'll let her have a bib of my mind directly I get back.1 Which she did, and which Sarah bore r I with customary stoicism, looking grimly ab tier accuser and saying never a word till Jenny had finished her harangue and v thanked her—prospectively, as ib .were— nob to interfere with her affairs or her sisters anymore. , ' 'Because if you (to, Sarah,' Jenny affirmed, very red and very much excited,/ ' you or I will have to clear out of theße premises—and I'm pretty Bure ib will be ■ you.' «I'm pretty sure of bhafc too,' said Sarah. •Thendon'b you interfere again.' • I have not interfered.' .'You haven't said anybhing to your y father aboub my sisters coming here so . often?' 'No.1 And bhen Sarah walked away disdaining; further argument, and leaving her young; j step-mother very considerably astonished. ''" Later in the day it was Jenny's turn to astonish Sarah Crowder. Ib was in the afternoon just before their usual tea-time, and, Sarah was staring hard ab the black kettle on the back parlour hob, waiting for it to boil. She was sitting with her-two long, thin hands twisted awkwardly round each; other, and so deep in thoughb that Jenny, i; coming out of the shop and couching her on the shoulder, made her jump with sur- ■' prise, 'I didn't know you were so close ab hand,'said Sarah, sullenly. She was nob in a good temper, and she did not like to V be taken unawares. • I thought I'd tell you, Sarah, how sorry. , I am for what I said this morning aboub you and my sisters,' she ran on very quickly, and with a heightened colour on her pretty' face ; ' I ought to have been quite sure before I spoke so sharply. Dou't think any- ' thing more about ib. I was in the wrong. I can'b do more than beg your pardon ; can I? If I can, I-will.' It was a generous confession, and gracefully made, for a little shopkeeper's wife. Even Sarah Crowder's visage relaxed, and v she turned her head and looked inquiringly at Jenny. 'Have you been speaking to father about) this ?' she asked. ' Yes, I have. And he says ib was all hia doings, every bit of it.' • Have you and he had words, then ?' 'Oh ! ft takes two to make a quarrel, and your father was very much in the ■■'■ -.'■ wrong, and he's very sorry, and there's no difference now bebween us. None at all. We've kissed and made it up, my old man. and I,' Jenny said flippantly; 'bufc,'laughing very pleasantly, .' it's all settled. And my sistora are coming round to tea n,ext Sunday.' ' That's a pity,' was Sarah's dry comment) to this announcement. ' Oh ! Is it ? Why ?' Jenny looked disposed to fire up again. Sarah Crowder was nob daunted, and even condescended to explain. ' Father likes you. to himself—nob with your sisters ; not with me. Oh, no,' sha, wont on ; 'he likes bo see you ab home. You are all that home's worth tohim, and he is only happy when you're near him.' ' Yes, he's said something like that/ replied Jenny; ' but he sees enough of mo, goodness knows t and I don'b go gadding about like that himiny piminy hairdresser's wife over the way, do I ? And if I can'b have my own family to see me^ now and then without a fuss, why, it's precious hard.'

l!Now and then; yes, it would be,1' _ ( • When I like. Just whenever I like, cried Jenny, marching back into the shop. But Jenny had learned discretion. She was a thoughtful little woman, and having cleared the decks and won the victory, was not readily disposed to flaunt) the flag of defiance too much in the countenances of thoCfl whom she had vanquished. So oaly three sistera at a time came to tea, aud were on their best behaviour at tea atid afterwards; and did not laugh so shrift? and. in so cockatoo fashion as they, po°r girls, were in the habit of doing. All was fair sailing again—might have been fair sailing to the end of time had not Fate bten too strong for all these well-meaning folk. For Fabe will even stalk down Botbnal Green Road, and make poor people uncomfortable. (7b be Continued Next Saturday.)