Puck — August 15, 1877 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

12 fee faaves and a fuser. (This Story was begun in No. 4. Back Numbers can be obtained at the office of PUCK, 13 North William st.) CHAPTER XIX.” (Continned.) ‘Pom rose quickly from his seat, with anger 752) in his face, as though he were about to forcibly remove Fox from the room. His powerlessness was evidenced by a pained ex- pression upon his face. ‘Then he burst out laughing, and seating himself again to his work, said: “Why should I mind your talking? If lam compelled to listen, I am not bound to believe. Go on if you will.” He whistled; and Fox said, disregarding the whistle: “'This is the proper way of reasoning, ‘Thomas. If I were to go now, leaving that unsaid which I have come purposely to say, you would justly have. reason to reproach yourself if anything happens for not having encouraged me to speak, As you say, you are not bound to be- lieve a word say. Now in the first place 1 will tell you where your wife went to. She went to the studio of Mr. Hugh Biron, her old sweetheart and your rival.” ‘There was a momentary cessation of ‘Vom's whistling, and he continued by an effort of will; but little melody could he command. “You do not believe me. You have only my word for it at present. You think that though she was there her visit was perfectly in- nocent. So it may be. She may have gone with a message from her pretty young friend to this man. What business takes that friend from her shop we don’t know. Perhaps it is business that could be transacted by your wife, is also young and pretty.” et out of this room!” shouted ‘Tom, again springing to his feet, and this time catching up his stool. Mr. Fox stealthily changed his posi- tion, and said nothing. “Where are you, you sneaking coward? You daresn’t torment me if I had my sight. © my God, what a helpless creature | be!” As he spoke he set down his stool, and his hands dropped by his side dead-like. "If you warnt to hurt me take up this steul, and knock me deown wi’ it. I will not call for assistance, none by to check you.” re the coward, Reynolds. You will not listen to what hurts your pride. You think only of your feeling being hurt now, not of your wife being saved from future misery.” ‘om was no sophist. He Lelieved in Master Fox’s cleverness, and was induced by this show of reason to believe that he indeed was think- ing more of his own misfortune than of his wife's happiness, He stood in the middle of the room, his head drooping, his hands hang- ing dead, and listened patiently as Mr. Fox continued “Too much confidence is as bad as too lit- tle: one encourages, the other provokes dupli- city. It is your duty as a husband to listen to what I say, however unpleasant it may be to you. Now I tell you that your wife went into the room where I left her former lover a few minutes before.” ‘Yom winced. ‘In all inno. cence she may be there—I_ know nothing, can say nothing to the contrary. She may have found out his address from her pretty young friend the widow,” Fox cleared his throat, ‘and merely called upon him to tell of her marriage, or your blindness and disfigurement.” “ Disfigurement!” said ‘Tom, “ Why, Mat- tie tells me I deu look as well as ever I did.” “ Dear, dear! But surely your sense of touch must tell you of an alteration in your face.” PUCK. “ T have fancied so," ‘Tom, quietly pass- ing his fingers over his cheek. “ Why, that shows your wife is a good cried Fox joyfully.“ She has hidden the fact from you, thinking it would wound your vanity to know you are no longer good-looking.” “If it be vanity to wish my face may please my wife, then I amvain, Eh! and so I am disfigured 2” “Why, you know that your eyes were the finest in the village—indeed your best feature, and the organs by which alone you could show Mattie how true and good your heart was. ‘They spoke for you. Losing them alone must greatly diminish your attractions in the eyes of a gay, light-hearted young girl.” ‘rhe inquisitor noticed that his victim began to suffer under the torture, clasping one hand tightly with the other. “« Happily, wives, if they are kept from temp: tation by constant companionship with their husbands, become indifferent to their personal appearance, as mothers do to their deformed children. Very often—if they have tender- ness in their hearts—love grows out of their pity.” “Pity “TL have no doubt your wife will in time set- tle down and become a very happy and good wife; but it is necessary that you should guide her carefully now. ‘Think how young and gay and pretty she is, and that this old sweetheart is also young and very clever, handsome too, thoughtless, a gentleman—"" “Kh, he és a gentleman!” “T admit that he is honorable; but you must not forget that every man and woman is sub- ject to fall, and that acquaintances begun in perfect innocence have very frequently ended in guilt and utter ruin, I have said all I wish to say; and Lam glad to leave you calm and feeling rightly for the happiness of your wife. But if 1 may counsel you before I go, I will ad- vise you first to prove the truth of my state- tment, and after that you must act as circum- stances direct. I will call upon you to-morrow at this time, and I hope to have the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Reynolds where she should be — by your side. He withdrew without many more words, for Reynolds was seated in deep thought. ‘Yom’s simple, honest mind was uneasy and troubled, feeling that wit was wanted in this emergency, and conscious that he had none. He could not conceal his disfigured face from Mattic; but a suspicion of her goodness would be yet more revolting to her if she were pure, and how could he prove her truth without her knowledge? If she perceived that his heart was blind to her purity, and scarred with cruel doubts, then what in him would there be to love? Yet for her sake he must not disregard this warning. I.cng he sat silent and motion- less whilst these matters revolved in his brain, and he sought for a “clever” means of over- coming the difficulty before him. “1 might as welltry to think of anew method to bud roses,” thought he. ‘There be but one way to get at the truth as I see, and that’s straightforward, I'll just_ask her where she’s been, and if so be she says, “ Minding shop,” why, then I’ll know Fox isa liar, and she’s my own dear wife." Yet somehow the honesty of his purpose and his generous faith did not restore perfect happi- nesstohisheart. Hesat thoughtful and grieved “Tt is certain I am ugly, and that I feared is | too true; why, I can feel the scar here yet, and my eyes are gone. What is there in my face to please a young wife? Young girls will be guided ever by looks; they were all 1 had—except love —to make me worth her having. I am not altered, lying to spare my feelings; yes, that is how it is, she lies to spare me.”” He repeated the words again and again to | | “And only. done that s She tells me | himself as his thoughts pondered over and over the suggestions made by Fox. He did not move until a well-known step upon the stairs awoke him to the necessity of appearing na- tural. He set to work upon the basket at once, his back towards the door, “Working still, ‘Tom dear?” said Mattie, entering briskly and coming to his shoulder, ince I left you, you lazy old fellow!” She slid her arm round his neck, and kissed him as he turned his face upwards to her. His doubts vanished as her lips touched his. “* You haven't been idle, Mattie.” “Oh, dear, no—minding shop as usual.”” She spoke ‘hurriedly, with an assumption of carelessness. “ All the morning, 1 suppose, dear?” He noticed that she hesitated to answer, and then spoke with her former haste. “Why, of course I have, you silly old goose. How could [ do else? Jenny has to be right away in Tottenham-court Road by twelv She was laying hér hat and jacket aside as she spoke, and the trembling of the osier under ‘Tom's hand passed unnoticed. lies to spare me, she lies to spare me. words beat upon his brain with mechanical per- sistenc “You've ne’er told me where Jenny goes, Mattie.” “Why, ‘Tom dear, no more [hi She goes to sit to—to—artists and people, and they take her likeness, and actually pay for it ‘stead of her a-paying them, She's going out again to-morrow, so I must needs go and mind shop again. But I shall have twelve shillings come Saturday to put in the box, and all for keeping shop two hours a day.”” “Three hours.”” “Yes, yes—I meant three. Why, what’s the matter, husband dear?” “T ha’n’t felt well all day, Mattie, and now I feel strangely sick.” “It is through bending over these nasty old baskets. You shall sit here by the window, and do not another stroke of work to-day; and you shall not speak a word, but listen to. my silly chat, ‘till you've had your tea; then we'll go for a walk together, and you will come back quite your dear old self.” Concern for her husband's present condition diverted Mattie’s mind from a consideration of his questions, which else had doubtless excited her suspicion. She bustled about, clearing the willows away whilst the water was boiling for the tea, and talked the whole time in a bright, sharp little chatter, as musical and gay as the clinking of the tea-things she laid out upon the table. She charmed away ‘I’om’s distress for the time; and when they walked in the even- ing he talked much, as was his wont, and showed scarcely a sign of the heavy care that lay at the bottom of his heart. Whilst her hand pressed his arm, and he heard her pretty voice and rippling laughter, he could think of her only as a creature to be loved then and there, and for all time, with his whole soul. It was when her hand slid from his neck at night, and her deep breathing told she slept, that his thoughts recurred to the charge laid against his wife, and his mind was vexed with sleepless doubt. It troubled him that he could not accept Mattie’s statement, and rest as he rested last night; but an instinctive perception that Mat- tie had deceived him, and Fox for once told truth, was not to be shaken off; and it was in vain he tried to persuade himself against con- viction by saying, “He is, a liar, and she is not.” He tried to think of other matters in vain, and his inability to control his brain had the effect upon him which extreme pain exer- cises over men—he wished to cry out, or to pace about the room; yet he dare not move, comicbooks.com