The result of his disappointment was, that he began to drink worse than ever, and poor Mrs. Huxter, for some weeks, had a hard time of it. She was certainly very much to be pitied, as is every poor woman who finds herself yoked for life to a husband wedded to a habit so fatal to all domestic comfort and happiness.
CHAPTER XXVII.
JOHN OAKLEY'S AUNT.
When John found that his enemy had abandoned the siege, he rowed ashore, and watched Mr. Huxter until he became satisfied that it would require a considerable time to catch the horse. He thought that he might venture to pursue his journey, without further fear of molestation. Of the incidents that followed, none are worth recording. It is sufficient to say that on the evening of the second day John entered the town of Wilton.
It was years since he had seen his aunt. She had been confined at home by the cares of a young family, and the distance between Wilton and Hampton seemed formidable. He knew, however, that his uncle, Thomas Berry, kept a small country store, and had done so ever since his marriage. In a country village it is always easy to find the "store," and John kept up the main road, feeling that it would not be necessary to inquire. He came at length to a meeting-house, and judged that the store would not be far off. In fact, a few rods further he came to a long, two-story building, painted white, with a piazza in front. On a large sign-board over it he read:—
"THOMAS BERRY.
PROVISION AND DRY-GOODS STORE."
"This must be the place," thought John. "I think I'll go into the store first and see uncle."
He entered, and found himself in a broad room, low-studded, furnished with counters on two sides, and crowded with a motley collection of goods, embracing calicoes and dry goods generally, as well as barrels of molasses and firkins of butter. There chanced to be no customer in at the time. Behind the counter he saw, not his uncle, but a young man, with long, light hair combed behind his ears, not very prepossessing in his appearance,—at least so John thought.