American fiction -- 19th century; Dime novels; Popular literature
“He is very different from that now,” Beatrice replied, rousing up at
once in Everard’s defense. “Of course he can never look like anything
but a gentleman, but he wears his coats and boots and hats until they
are positively shabby. It would almost seem as if he were hoarding up
money for some particular purpose, he is so careful about expense. He
neither smokes, nor chews, nor drinks, and it is said of him that he has
not a single bad habit; his wife, should he ever have one, ought to be
very proud of him.”
Beatrice was very eloquent and earnest in her praises of Everard, and
watched closely the effect on Josephine. There certainly was a
different, expression on her face as she listened to this high encomium
on her husband, whose economies she well knew were practiced for her,
and there was something like a throb of gratitude or affection in her
heart when she heard that the money she had supposed was given him by
his father was earned or saved by himself, that she might be daintily
clothed.
“I am delighted with this good account of him, and so will mamma be,”
she said; “he must have changed so much, for he was very extravagant and
reckless when we knew him, but I liked him exceedingly.”
Again there was the sound of wheels stopping before the gate, and
excusing herself, Josephine hurried away to meet the second gallant who
had come to take her to ride. Of course she could not go, and so the
young man staid with her, and Walter Gerard drove back that way, and
seeing her in the parlor tied his horse to the fence and came sauntering
in with the air of one sure of a welcome.
Josephine did not appear at the tea-table, but Beatrice saw Agnes taking
a tray into the parlor, and knew the trio were served in there, and felt
greatly shocked and disgusted when she heard the clock strike twelve
before the sound of suppressed voices and laughter ceased in the parlor,
and the two buggies were driven rapidly away.
CHAPTER XXVI.
JOSEPHINE’S CONFIDENCE.
The next day Josephine wrote Everard the first real letter she had sent
him for many weeks. Heretofore she had merely acknowledged his drafts
made payable to her mother, but now she filled an entire sheet, and
called him her _dear husband_, and told him of Miss Belknap’s presence
in the house, and what she had said of his habits and strict economy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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