HOW A HUSBAND WAS LOST AND FOUND.[B]
ELL, my girl, this is a spanking place to call our own," said Richard Watson, as he surveyed with pride the two tiny rooms which formed the new home to which he had just brought the woman of his choice. His mother had left them together, after putting the last remaining touches to the place; and they had completed their short tour of investigation, discovering, at each step of their slow progress, some new trace of the thoughtful care that had been bestowed upon the arrangement of the goods and chattels with which the two young people had ventured to set up housekeeping.
Richard was a mason by trade, and although his wages were not high, they had enabled him to save something towards a rainy day, and to furnish the aforesaid rooms.
Jane, his wife, had been a domestic servant in a clergyman's family for many years, and had left, with mutual regrets, when Richard would no longer wait for the fulfilment of her promise to him. There was only one fault that her mistress ever had occasion to find with Jane; and, before her maid left, she very faithfully pointed it out; showing her that continued yielding to her failure would be likely to prove disastrous to her happiness as a wife. Jane listened attentively, and promised to remember the warning, and guard against what she knew to be her greatest besetment. And she fully intended to keep her promise. Richard had been so patient and good, and was so fond of her, that it would, indeed, be a shame if she did not do all in her power to make him happy. So strong was she in her own purpose, that she forgot that the habit which had grown with her years would be too powerful for merely a good resolution to overcome.
But that evening, as they lingered over their meal, there was no suspicion of future trouble. The atmosphere was one of love and calm enjoyment. Would that upon every married life there always rested the warm sunshine of that mutual love and trust with which most young people commence their journey together. Too often the love grows cold, faith in each other is lost, and the only change that comes to many from the sore misery of living divided lives is the darkness of death, and an unknown, unprepared for, eternity.
"O, Richard, I never thought you'd have had everything so nice and ready for me. I quite expected plenty of work for a few days," said Jane.
"'Twasn't likely, my dear, as I'd have brought you to that at first, I'd sooner have paid a woman; but mother, she'd have been quite hurt if I hadn't have let her set to work; and I'm sure not even you would have made the place look prettier and brighter," replied Richard.
"No, you're right, Richard. Dear old soul! It's very likely that I shouldn't have fixed the rooms half so nicely; but I shall do my very best to keep them just as they are for many a day. Missis always said I was careless about my work; but it seems to me as if doing for one's own home must be a very different thing to slaving for any one else."
"I've no fear of you, my dear, none at all," replied Richard; "but I don't want you to be slaving and toiling away all your time. You'll get plenty of that by and bye, like my poor mother."