AN EXPENSIVE LESSON."

Evening Post, Volume XXXII, Issue 148, 6 November 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

AN EXPENSIVE LESSON."

Mrs. Piorcy was not in goo ! humour that day, as she sat at tli. breakfast table, pouring coffee fu: her husband and dispensing brea ; and butter to the three plump littl< Piercys. She was a handsome, overdressed woman, with a good deal of false hair, frizzed and puffed ano braided on tho top of her head, and complexion that bore romoto witnes to the constant use of cosmetics ; an^ Mr. Piercy, at the end of the table •was evidently ill at ease, as he broke his eggs and nibbled diligently a1 his roll. " But what was I to do, my dear ?" said he, after a brief silence, which ¦was by no means peaceful. "Do!" Bhrilly retorted Mrs. Piercy. "Why what do other people do ? Are wo to keep a home for tho indigent poor ? Or a refuge for the widowed and fatherless ? " "My dear, my doar," pleaded Mr. Piercy, who was a email man, with thin, hair and spectacles, "you may be a widow yourself some day." " 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 yours — only your brother's wifo. I'd like to know what earthly claim sho lias upon you ! I declare, the more I think on it tho more I am amazed at tho woman's presumption. Her very name is an aggravation, too. ' Plume Piercy,' indeed ! I'll wagor 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 hero 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, golden tresses and delicately fair complexion contrasted 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?" r Abel Piercy, the kindest-hearted of little men, welcomed his brother's widow with genuine hospitality, but Matilda, his wife, looked askance at her with a friendly smile upon her countenance. " Of course you will consider this yernr home," aoid Mr. Piercy, as he made haste 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; she only looked, with large, wistful eyes, from one to the other as she sat there, the morning sunshine turning her hair locks to braided masses of gold, the pearly delicacy of her skin arousing the liveliest envy in Mrs. Abel's heart. " Though of course it's only some French balm or Circassian cream or other, that I haven't hoard of," said she to herself. But after Mr. Piercy had buttoned on his overcoat and gloves, he came back to the breakfast room, while his wife was putting up the children's 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 first. She's a little peculiar, Matilda is, but I do assure you she " " Mr. Piercy !" uttered a sharp warning voice at this instant from the threshold. "Is it possible that you havn't started yet ? And you know how particular Budge and Budley are as to your getting to the store at nine precisely." Mr. Piercy turned pink all over. " Yes, my dear — yes," said he. " I am quite sure to be in time !" And lie started off on a gentle trot. When he was gone, Plume took olf her bonnet and veil, removed her mantle and gloves, and went into tho kitchen. " Cannot Ido something to help you, Sister Matilda ?" aaid she pleadingly. "Mrs Abel Piercy looked, with cold blue eyes and lips firmly compressed, at the fair face, which was younger and fresher than ever without the jet black circlet of the bonnet, and the slight, graceful figure before her. •'No, I thank you," said she, " I am not use to having fine ladies in my kitchen." "But if you will lend me an apron " "No, I thank you, Mrs. Oswald Piercy," repeated the housewife. " You will find 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 relation at all, in reality," said Mrs. Abel Piercy, 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, woidd have 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 married 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 I live ! There's half of 'em gone since I was here last." "No. mum, I haven't!" sharply responded Bridget, who was used to those kitchen skirmishes. " Shure I never lived in a house before where they counted the raisins and lumps 0' coal, and if I don't suit, mum, it's a month's warning from to-day, if yez plaze." "Situations!" repeated Plume, half afraid of Bridget's warlike demeanour, half puzzled at her sister-in-law's words. "Yes," said Mrs. Abel, tartly, paying no attention to Bridget and akillet, "in a glove factory, you know, or a fancy store, or even as nursery governess, or attendant to some elderly invalid. For, of course, you know," with another of those oblique glances which made Plume feel so uncomfortable, " you expect to work for your living. We are not rich enough to support all our relatives. Abel's salary was reduced last year, and no one knows how strictly I have to economise in order to make both ends meet. And a strong young woman like you ought not to eit 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 Abol!" said Mi l Piercy, Bcornfuily. •¦ ile'd take i r j all creation if lie could. He neve stops to think whether he can affor I • it or not." "I am sorry that I intrude," sail. Plume, with dignity. ''Jtßhallno ;. be for long. I will look at the nows- • papers nt once." j ' ' Yes, that's a deal the best pla n, ' assented Mrs. Piercy ungraciously . "Of course you won't mention oin little chat to Abel. He might bf vexed, and, after all, I'm only speaking for your good." Plume looked up to her with an expression of face which somehow made Mrs. Abel Piercy feel as if sh< was shrinking up like a withered walnut in its Bhell. "Yes, I know," Baid she. " Bui you neod not be afraid ; I am nc talebearer to make mischief in anj one's family." Mrs. Piercy felt very uncomfortable after the conversation was ended. " How sue did look at me," thought she. " But I only spoke the truth, after all. Wo can't be burdened with her support, let Abel talk as he ploases. And no matter what she says, I believe sho has been an actress. No 0110 but an actress could ever put on such royal ways as that." About half an hour aftorwards, when the bell rang, and someone enquired for Mrs. Oswald Piercy, Mrs. Abel nodded her head to the cake she was taking out of the oven. " Company already," said she, " and gentlemen company, as I live. Well, if this is the way 'she intends to go on, the sooner she suits herself with a situation the better." Mtb. 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 room 'with a red spot on either cheekbone like signals of war. " So you have been receiving company ?" Mrs. Oswald, she said. "Yes," Plume innocently answered. '• Gentleman company too," cried Mrs. Piercy. "It was Mr. Van Orden, my husband's laywer," exclaimed 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. " I am 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 !" "lwishher joy of her bargain, I am sure," said Mrs. Abel Piercy, with a toss of the mountains of false hair that crowned her head. And so the two women parted, in no spirit of amity. "I dare Bay she'll go straight to the store," thought Mrs. Abel, "and invent a pitiful story for my husband's benefit. And Abel will make a great fuss — Abel was always soft about his relatives — but I shan't mind it. 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 help feeling a little apprehensive when her husband came into tea. For when Abel really was angry his -anger signified- something. But to her surprise, he entered all smiles, and rubbing his palms gleefully. "So ' Plume has gone," said he. "Yea," said Mrs. Piercy, pretend- : ing to be busy with a knot in the specond 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 Plume tell you? It seems that 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 worth 150,000 dollars." Mrs. Abel Piercy turned first green, then crimson. Alas, for the ruined chances of her three litte girls to inherit their aunt's money ! She made some trivial excuse about a forgotten pocket handkerchief, and went upstairs 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 ?"