xt78kp7tn16m https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt78kp7tn16m/data/mets.xml Holmes, Mary Jane, 1825-1907. 1886 books b92-207-30909309 English Rose Publishing Co., : Toronto : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Tracy park : a novel / by Mrs. Mary J. Holmes. text Tracy park : a novel / by Mrs. Mary J. Holmes. 1886 2002 true xt78kp7tn16m section xt78kp7tn16m

tor v

'4.
,/Of
onets

"ll/ - \4kt

This page in the original text is blank.

rFRACY PARK.

BY
MRS. MIARY 1. HOLMIES,
Au lIIOR OF BEuSSIt. S FORTUNE, QUEKNIE HETHFERTrO)N, EDiThlT LYSE 5'S
SECRET. HIIMESTEAD ON THE ISIDE. ETC.. ETC., ET.

TOR O NTO:
ROSE PUBLISHING COMIPANY.

i SS6.

TRACY PARK.

CHAPTER I.

THE TELEGRXI.
'BBRavOORT HOUSE, NEw YORK, Oct. 6th, 18-.
'To Mr. Frank- Tracy, Tracy Park, Shanunodu 1e.
' I arrived in the Scotia this morning, and shall take the train
for Shannondale at 3 p.m. Send someone to the station to meet
us8.
ARTHUIt TtiCy.'

T HIS was the telegram which the clerk in the Shannon-
1 vile office wrote out one October morning, and des-
patched to the Hon. Frank Tracy, of Tracy Park, in the
quiet town of Shannondale, where our story opens.
Mr. Frank Tracy, who, since his election to the State Legis-
lature for two successive terms, had done nothing except to at-
tend political meetings and make speeches on all public occa-
sions, had an office in town, where-he usually spent his morn-
ings, smoking, reading the papers and talking to Mr. Colvin,
his business agent and lawyer, for, though born in one of the
humblest ot New England houses, where the slanting roof al-
most touched the ground in the rear, and he could scarcely
stand upright in thechamber where he slept, Mr. Frank Tracy was
a great man now, and as he dashed alone the turnpike behind his
blooded bays, with his driver beside him, people looked adnlir-
illgly after him, and pointed him out to strangers as the Hoa.
Mr. Tracy, or Tracy Park, one of the finest l)laces in the county.
It is true it did not belong to him, but he had lived there so
long that he had come to look upon it as his, while his neigh-
bors, too, seemed to have forgotten that there was across the
ocean a Mr. Arthur Tracy, who might at any time come home to
claim his own, and demand all account of his brother's stewv-
A

TRACY PARK.

ardship. And it was this very Arthur Tracy, whose telegram
announcing his return from Europe was read by his brother
with mingled feelings of surprise and consternation.
'Not that everything isn't fair and above-board, and he is wel-
come to look into matters as much as be likes,' Frank said over
and over to himself, as he sat stawing bRankly at the telegram,
while the cold chills ran up and down his back and arms. ' Yes,
he can examine all Colvin's books and lie will find them straight
as a string, for didn't he tell me to use what I needed as re-
muneration for looking after his property while he was galli-
vanting over the world; and if he objects that I have paid
myself too mnucb, why, I can at once transfer those invest-
ments in my name to him. No, it is not that which affects
me so, it is the suddenness of the thing, coming without warning
and to-night of all nights, when the house will be full of car
ousing and champagne. What will Dolly say Hysterics of
course. if not a sick headache. I don't believe I can face her
till she has had a little time to get over it. Here, boy, I want,
you ' and lie rapped at the window at a young lad who hap-
penel to be passing with a basket on his arm. 'I want you to
(lo an errand for rue,' he continued, as the boy entered th-
otliCe, and, removing his cap. stood respectfully before hin
'Take this telegram to Mirs. Tracy, and here is a dinme for
you.
'Thank you, but I don't care for the money,' the boy said
'I was going to the park anyway to t,11 AIrs. T acy that grand-
ma is sick and can't go there to-night.'
'Cannot go sick ! What is the matter V' Mr. Tracy asked,
in some dismay, feeling that here was a fresh cause of treuble
and worry for Dolly, as he designated his -wife when off
his guard and not on show before his fashionable friends, to
whom she was Dora, or Mrs. Tracy.
'She catched cold yesterday fixing up mother's grave,' the
boy replied; and, as if the mention of that grave had sent Mr.
Tracy's thoughts straying backward to the past, he looked
thoughtfully at the child a moment, and then said:
How old ar- you, Harold '
Ten, last August,' was the reply ; and Mr. Tracy coi.
tinued:
I You do not remember your mother '

THE TELEGRAM.

'No, sir, only a great crowd, and grandma crying so hard,'
was Harold's reply.
'You look like her,' Mr. Tracy s -id.
'Yes, sir,' Harold answered, while into his frank, open face
there came an expression of regret for the mother who had died
when he was three years old, and whose life had been so short
and sad.
' Now, hurry off with the telegram, and mind you don't lose
it. It is from my brother. He is coming to-night.'
'Mr. Arthur Tracy, who sent the monument for my mother
-is he coming home X Oh, I am so glad !' Harold exclaimed,
and his handsome face lighted up with childish joy, as he put
the telegram in his pocket and started for Tracy Park, wonder-
ing if he should encounter Tonir, and thinking that if he did, and
Tom gave him any chaff, he should lick him, or try to.
' Darn him ! ' he said to himself, as he recalled the many
times when Tom Tracy, a boy of his own age, had laughed at
him for his poverty and coarse clothes. ' Darn him hle ain't
any better than I am, if he does wear velvet trousers and live
in a big house. 'Taint his'n; it's Mr. Arthur's, and I'm glad
he is coming home. I wonder if he will bring grandlma, any-
thing. I wish he'd iring me a pyramid. lies seen 'em, they say.'
Meantime, Mr. Frank Tracy had resutmt-d his seat, and, with
his hands clasped together over his head, was wondering what
effect his brother's return would have upon him. Would he be
obliged to leave the park, and the luxury he had enjoyed so
long, and go back to the old life which he hated so inuch.
'No; Arthur will never be so mean,' he said. ' He has al-
ways shown himself generous, and will continue to do so. Be-
sides that, hie will want somebody to keep his house for him,
unless-' and here the perspiration started from everv
pore, a Frank Tracy thought: 'W hat if he is married, and the
us in his telegram means a wife, instead of a friend or servant,
as I imagined! '
This would indeed be a calamity, for then his own and Dolly's
reign was over at Tracy Park, and the party they were to give
that night to at least three hundred leolple would be their last
grand blow-out.
Confouind the party !' he thought, as he arose from his
chair and began to pace the room. 'Arthur won't like that as

TRACY PARK.

a greeting after eleven years' absence. He never fancied being
cheek by jowl with rorn, Dick and Harry ; and that is just
what the sinash is to-niUht. D)olly wants to please everybody,
thiiiking to get me votes for Congress, and so she has invited
all creation and his wife. There's old Peterkin, the roughest
kind of a canal bummer when Arthur went away. Think of
my fastidious brother shaking hands with him and Widow
;,lihiley, who kept a low tavern on the tow-path ! She'll be
there; in her silks and long gold chain, for she has four boys,
all voteis, who call me Friank and slap me on the shoulder.
Ugh ! even I hate it all;' and in a most perturbed state of
mind, the Hon. Frank and would-be Congressman continued to
walk the room lamenting the party which must be, and wonder-
ing what his aristocratic brother would say to such a crowd in
his house orn the night of his return.
And if there should be a Mrs. Arthur Tracy, with possibly
some little Tracys! But that idea was too horrible to contemn-
plate, and so he tried to put it from his mind, and to be as
calm and quiet as possible until lunich-time, when, with no very
great amount of alacrity and cheerfulness, he started for home,
where, as he had been warned by his wife when he left her in
the morning, 'he was to lunch standing up or anyhow, as she
had no time for parade that day.'

CHAPTER II.

ARTHUR TRACY.

1LTHOUGH it was a morning in October, the grass in
the park was as green as in early June, while the
flowers in the beds and borders, the geraniums, the
phlox, the stocks,. and verbenas were handsomer, if possible,
than they had been in the summner-time: for the rain, which
had fallen almost continually during the month of September,
had kept them fresh and bright. Here and there the scarlet

ARTHUR TRACY.

and golden tints of autumn were beginning to show on the
trees; but this only added a new charm to a place which was
noted for its beauty, and was the pride and admiration of the
town.
And yet Mrs. Frank Tracy, who stood on the wide piazza,
looking after a carriage which was moving down the avenue
which led through the park to the highway, did not seem as
happy as the mistress of that house ought to have been, stand-
ing there in the clear, crisp morning, with a silken wrapper
trailingl behind her, a coquettish French cap on her head, and
costly jewels on her short, fat hands, which once were not as
white and soft as they were now. For Mrs. Frank Tracy, as
Dorothy Smith, had known what hard labor and poverty
meant, and slights, too, because of the poverty and labor. Her
mother was a widow, sickly and lame, and Dorothy in her girl-
bood had worked in the cottoil mills at Langley, and bound
shoes for the firm of Newell Brothers, and had taught a dis-
trict school, 'by way of elevating herself,' but the elevation did
not pay, and she went back to the mills in the day-time and
her shoes at night, and rebelled at the fate which had made her
so poor and seemed likely to keep her so.
But there was sornethliini better in store for her than binding
shoes, or even teaching a district school, anal, from the time
when young Frank Tracy came to Langley as clerk in the
Newell firm, Dorothy's life was clhanged and her star began to
rise. Thev both sang in the choir, standing side by side, and
sometimes using the same book, and once or twice their hands
met as both tried to turn the leaves together. Dorothy's were
red and rough, and not nearly as delicate as those of Frank,
who had been in a store all his life: and still there was a niag-
netism in their touch which sent a thrill through the young
man's veins, and made him for the first time look critically at
his companion.
She was very pretty, he thought, with bright black eyes, a
healthful bloom, and a smile and blush which went strai-ht to
his heart and imade him her slave at once. In three months'
time they were married and commenced housekeeping in a very
inostentatious way, for Frank had nothing but his salary to
dlepenil upon. But he was well connected, and boasted some
blue blood, which, in Dorothy's estimation, made amends for

TRACY PARK.

lack of money. The Tracys of Boston were his distant rela-
tives, and he had a rich bachelor uncle who spent his winters
in New Orleans and his summers in Sbannondale, at Tracy
Park, on which he had lavished fabulous sums of money.
From this uncle Frank had expectations, though naturally the
e ater part of his fortune would go to his god-son and name-
sake, Arthur Tracy, who was Frank's elder brother, and as un-
like him as one brother could well be unlike another.
Arthur was scholarly in his tastes, quiet and gentlemanly in
his8 manneis, with a musical voice which won him friends at
once, while in his soft black eyes there was a peculiar look of
saJ ness, as if he were brooding over something which filled him
with regret. Frank was very proud of his brother, and with
Dorothy felt that he was honored when, six months after their
marriage, he came for a day-or so to visit them, and with him
his intimate friend Harold Hastings, an Englishman by birth,
huit so thoroughly Americanized as to pass unchallenged ft. a
native. There was a band of crape on Arthur's hat, and his
manner was like one trying to be sorry, while conscious of a
great inward feeling of resignation, if not content. The rich
uncle was dead. He had died suddenly in Paris, where he had
gone on business, and the whole of his vast fortune was left to
his nephew Arthur-not a farthing to Frank, not even the
mention of his name in the will: and when Dorothy heard it
she put her white apron over her face, and cried as if her heart
would break. They were so poor, she and Frank, and they
wanted so many things, and the man who could have helped
thenm was dead and had left them nothing. It was hard, and
she ninht not have made the young heir very welcome if he
had not assured her that he should do something for her tus-
band. And he kept his word, and in course of time bought out
a grocery in LaDgley and put Frank in it, and paid the mort-
gage on his house, and gave him a thousand dollars, and in-
vited them for a few days to visit him; and then it would
seem as if he forgot them entirely; for with his friend Harold
he settled himself at Tracy Park, and played the role of the
grayld gentleman to 1erfection.
lDiniuer parties and card 1,arties, where it was said the play
wais for uuonev, and where Arthur always allowed himself to
lobe and his friends to win; races and hunts were of frequent

ARTHUR TRACY.

Occurrence at Tracy Park, where matters generally were man-
aged on a magnificent scale, and created a great deal of talk
among the plain folks of Shannondale, whose only dissipation
then was going to church twice on Sunday and to the cattle
show once each year.
Few ladies ever graced these festivities, for Arthur was very
aristocratic in his feelings, and with two or three exceptions.
held himself aloof from the people of Shannondale. It was
said, however, that sometimes, when he and his friend were
alone, there was the sweep of a white dress and the gleam of
golden hair in the parlor, where sweet Amy Crawford, daughter
of the housekeeper, played and sang her simple ballads to the
two gentlemen, who always treated her with as much deference
as if she had been a queen, instead of a poor young girl de-
pendent for her bread upon her own and her mother's exer-
tions. But beyond the singing in the twilight Amy never ad
vanced, and so far as her mother knew she had never for a
single instant been alone with either of the gentlemen. How,
then, was the household electrified one morning when it wias
found that Amy had fled, and that Harold Hastings was the
companion of her flight
'I wanted to tell you,' Amy wrote to her mother in the note left
on her dressing-table. ' I wanted to tell you and be married at
home, but Mr. Hastings would not allow it. It would create trou-
ble, he said, between himself and Mr. Tracy, who I may confess
to you in confidence, asked me twice to be his wife, and when I re-
fused, without giving him a reason, for I dared not tell him of my
love for his friend, he was so angry and behaved so strangely, and
there was such a look in his eyes, that I was afraid of him, and it
was this fear, I think, which made me willing to go away secretly
with Harold and be married in New York. We are going to Europe
shall sail to-morrow morning at nine o'clock in the Scotia. The
inarriage ceremony will be performed before we go on board. I
shall write as soon as we reach Liverpool. You must forgive me,
mother, and I am sure you would not blame me, if you knew how
imich I love Mr. Hastings. I know he is poor, and that I might
be mistress of Tracy Park, but I love Harold best. It is ten o'clock,
and the train, you know, passes at eleven; so I umist say good-bye.
' Yours lovingly,
' Amy Crawford, now, but when you read this,
' ANiIHA5TINT(S.'
This was Amy's letter which her mother found upon enter-

1.3

TRACY PARK.

inci her room after waiting more than an hour for her daugh-
ter's appearance at the breakfast, which they always took by
theniselves. To say that she was shocked and astonished would
bitt faintly portray the state of her mind as she read that her
1beawtifld young dr lauluhter had gone with Harold Hastings,
whoiti The had never liked, for though he was handsome, and
angaref able and gentlemanly as a rule, She knew him to be thor-
oughly selijab and indolent, and she trembled for her daughter's
lazpiness when a little time had quenched the ardor of his pas-
sion. Added to this was another thought which made her brain
reel for a naument as she thought what might have been.
Arthur Tracy Lad wished to make Amy his wife, and mistress
of Tracy Pal k, whic she would have graced so well, for in all
the town there was not a fairer, sweeter girl than Amy Craw-
ford, car one better beloved.
It did not matter that she was poor, and her mother was only
a housekec per. She had never felt a slight on that account,
and had been reared as carefully and tenderly a3 the daughters
of the rich, aRd if away down in her mother's heart there had
been a half-defined hope that some time the master of Tracy
Park niglht turn his attention to her, it had been hidden so
closely tlit Mlrs. Crawford scarcely knew of it herself until
she learned what her daughter was and what she might have
been. 13ut it was too late now. There was no turning back
the wlhee ls of fate.
Forcin, herself to Le as calm as possible, she took the note
to Arthur, who had breakfasted alone, and was waiting impa-
tiently in the library for the appearance of his friend.
' l, azv dog!' Mrs. Crawford heard him say, as she ap-
proached the open door. 'D oes he think he has nothing to do
but to sleep We were to start by this time, and he in bed
yet !'
Are you speaking of Mr. Hastings 1' Mrs. Crawford asked,
as she stepped into the room.
' Yes,' was his crisp and haughty reply, as if he resented the
question, and her presence there.
Ile could be very proud and stern when he felt like it, and
one of these moods was on him. now, but Mrs. Crawford did not
heed it, and sinking into a chair, for she felt that she could not
stand and face him, she began;

I 6

ARTHUR TRACY.

I I came to tell you of Mr. Hastings and-Amy. She did
not come to breakfast, and I found this note in her room. She
has gone to New York with him. They took the eleven o'clock
train last night. They are to be married this morning, and sail
in the Scotia for Europe.'
She Had told her story, and paused for the result, which wao
worse than she had expected.
For a moment Arthur Tracy stood staring at her, while his
face grew white as ashes, and into his dark eyes, usually so soft
and mild, there came a fiery gleam like that of a madman, as he
seemed for a time to be.
' Amy gone with Harold, my friend I ' he said at last. ' Gone
to New York! Gone to be married! Traitors! Vipers! BotL
of then). Curse them ! If he were here I'd shoot him like a
dog; and she-I believe I would kill her.'
He was walking the floor rapidly, and to Mrs. Crawford it
seemed as if he really were unsettled in his mind, he talked so
incoherently and acted so strangely.
' What else did she say ' he asked, suddenly, stopping and
confronting her. ' You have not told me all. Did she speak
of me I Let me see the note,' and he held his hand for it.
For a moment Mrs. Crawford hesitated, but as he grew more
and more persistent she suffered him to take it, and then watched
him as he read it, while the veins on bis forehead began to
swell until they stood out like a dark blue net-work against his
otherwise pallid face.
'Yes,' he snapped between his white teeth. ' I did ask her
to be my wife, and she refused, and with her soft, kittenish
ways made me more in love with her than ever, and more her
dupe. I never suspected Harold, and when I told him of my
disappointment, for I never kept a thing from him-traitor that
he was-he) laughed at me for losing my heart to my house-
keeper's daughter I I, who, he said, might marry the greatest
lady in the land. I could have knocked him down for his
sneer at Amy, and I wish now I had, the wretch! He will not
marry your daughter, madam; and if he does not I will kill
him !'
He was certainly mad, and Mrs. Crawford shrank away fromn
him as from something dangerous, and going to her room took
her bed in a fit of frightful hysterics. This was followed by a

TRACY PARK.

state of nervous prostration, and for a few days she neither saw,
nor heard of, nor inquired for Mr. Tracy. At the end of the
fourth day, however, she was told by the house-maid that he
had that morning packed his valise and, without a word to any
one, had taken the train for New York. A week wept by, and
then there came a letter from him, which ran as follows:
' NEW YORK, May-, 18-.
MRS CRAWFORD :-I am off for Europe to-morrow, and when I
shall return is a matter of uncertainty. They are married ; or at
least I suppose s0, for I found a list of the passengers who sailed in
the Scotia, and the names, Mr. and Mrs. Hastings, were in it. So
that saves me from breaking the sixth commandment, as I should
have dope if he had played Amy false. I may not make myself
known to them, but I shall follow them, and if he harms a hair of
her lhuid I shall shoot him yet. My brother Frank is to live at
Tracy Park. That will suit his wife, and as you will not care to
stay with her, I send you a deed of that cottage in the lane by the
wood where the gardener now lives. It is a pretty little place, and
Amy liked it well. We u3,Ed to meet there soinetimes, and more
than once I have sat with her on that seat under the elm tree, and
it was there I asked her to be my wife. Alas ! I loved her so much,
:and I love her still as I can never love another woman, and I could
have made her so happy ; but that is past, and I can only watch
tier at a distance. When I have anything to communicate, I will
write again.
'Yours truly, 'ARTHUR TRACY.'
'P...-Take all the furniture in your room and Amy's, and
whatever else is needful for your house. I shall tell Colvin to give
you a thousand dollars, and when you want more let him know. I
shall never forget that you are Amy s mother.
This was Arliur's letter to Mr Crawford, while to his bro-
tiLer lie wrote
'DEAR FRANK :-I am going to Europe for an indefinite length
of time. Why I go it matters not to you or any one. I go to suit
umyself, anid I want you to sell out your business at Langley and live
at Tracyv Park, where you can see to things as if they were your
own. You will find everything straight and square, for Colvin is
honest and methodical. He knows all about the bonds, and mort-
gages, and stocks, so you cannot do better than to retain him in
-onur service, overseeing matters yourself, of course, and drawing
for your salary what you think right and necessary for your sup-
1,rt and for k-eping ul the place as it ought to be kept up. I en-

1,'.

MR. AND MRS. FRANK TRACY.

close a power of attorney. When I want money I shall call upon
Colvin. I may be gone for years and perhaps forever.
'I shall never marry, and when I die, what I have will naturally
go to you. We have not been to each other much like brothers for
the past few years, but I do not forget the old home in the moun-
tains where we were boys together, and played, and quarreled, and
slept up under the roof, where the blankets were hung to keep the
snow from sifting through the rafters upon our bed.
'And, Frank, do you remember the bitter mornings, when the
thermometer was below zero, and we performed our ablutions in
the wood-shed, and the black-eye you gave me once for telling
mother that you had not washed yourself at all, it was so cold
She sent you from the table, and made you go without your break-
fast, and we had ham and johnny-cake toast that morning, too.
That was long ago, and our lives are different now. There are mar-
ble basins, with silver chains and stoppers, at Tracy Park, and you
can have a hot bath every daytif you like, in a room which would
not shame Caracalla himself. And 1 know you will like it all, and
Dolly, too; but don't make fools of yourselves. Nothing stamps a
person as a come-up from the scum so soon as airs and ostentation.
Be quiet and modest, as if you had always lived at Tracy Park.
imitate Squire Harrington and Mr. St. Claire. They are the true
gentlemen, and were to the manner born. Be kind to Mrs. Craw-
ford. She is a lady in every sense of the word, for she comes of
good New England stock.
'And now, good-bye. I shall write somnetimes, but not often.
'Your brother, 'AITIUR TRACY.'

CHAPTER III.

MR. AND MRS. FRANK TRACY.

R. FRANK, in his small grocery store at Langley, was
Dw weighing out a poun(l of butter for the Widow Simnp-
son, who was haggling with him about the price,
when his brother's letter was brought to hrim by tb, boy who
swept his store and did errands for hizm. But Frank was too
busy just then to read it. There was a circus in the village that
day, and it brought the country people into the town il larger

TRACY PARK.

numbers than usual. Naturally, many of them paid Frank a
visit in the course of the morning, so that it was not until he
went home to his dinner that he even thought of the letter,
which was finally brought to his mind by his wife's asking if
there was any news.
Mrs. Frank was always inquiring for and expecting news, but
she was not prepared for what this day brought her. Neither
was her husband, and when he read his brother's letter, which
he did twice to assure himself that he was not mistaken, he sat
for a moment perfectly bewildered, and staring at his wife, who
was putting his dinner upon the table.
[ILolly,' he gasped at last, when he could speak at all-
Dolly, what do you think Just listen. Arthur is going to
Europe, to stay forever, l)erbaps, and has left us Tracy Park.
We are going there to live, and you will he as grand a lady as
Mrs. Atherton, of Brier Hill, or that young girl at Collingwood.'
Dolly had a platter of ham and eggs in her hand, and she
never could tell, though she often tried to do so, what I revwnted
her from dropping the whole upon the floor. She didl spill some
of the fat upon her clean tablecloth, she put the dish down so
suddenly, and sinking into a chair, demanded what her husband
meant. Was lie ctazy, or what X
-Not a bit of it,' he replied, recovering himself, and begin-
nirn, to realize the good fortune which had come to him. ' We
are rich people, Dolly. Read for yourself;' and lie passed her
the letter, which she seemed to understand better than he had
done.
' Why, yes,' she said. ' We are going to Tracy Park to liv-e;
but that doesn't make us rich. It is not ours.'
'I know that,' her husband replied. I But we shall enjoy it
all the same, and hold our heads with the best of them. Besides,
don't you see, Arthur gives me c irte blanche as to pay for mny
services, and, though I shall do right, it is not in human natlue
that I should not feather iny nest when I have a chance. Some
of that money ought to have been mine. I shall sell out at
once if I can find a purchaser, and if I cannot, I shall rent the
grocery and move out of this hole double olrick.
His ideas were irowin- faster than those of bis wife, Who Was
attached to Langley and its people, and shrank a little from tie
grander opening before her. She had once spent a few days at

MR. ANI) MRS. FRANK TRACY.

i racy Park, as Arthur's guest, and had felt great restraint even
in the presence of MIrs. Crawford and Amy, whom she recog-
nized as ladies, notwithstanding their position in the house. On
that occasion she had, with her brother-in-law, been invited to
dine at Brier Hill, the country-seat of Mrs. Grace Atherton, a
gay widow, whose dash and style had completely overawed the
plain, matter-of-fact Dolly, who did not know what half the
dishes were, or what she was expected to do. But, by watch-
in, Arthur, and declining some things which she felt sure were
beyond her comprehension, she managed tolerably well, though
when the dinner was over, and she could breathe freely again,
she found that the back of her new silk gown was wet with
perspiration, which lead oozed from every pore during the hour
and a half she had sat at the table. And even then her troubles
were not ended, for coffee was served in the drawing-room, and
as Arthur took his clear, she did not know whether she was
expected to do the same or not, but finally ventured to say she
would have hers with 'trimmin's.' There was a mischievous
twinkle in Mrs. Atherton's eyes which disconcerted her so
much that she spilled her coffee in her lap, and felt, as she after-
ward told a friend to whom she was describing the dinner, as if
she cou'd have been knocked down with a feather.
' Such folderol! ' she said. ' Changing your plates all the
time-eating peas in the winter greener than grass, with
nothing under the sun with them, and drinking coffee out of a
cup about as big as a thimble. Give me the good old-fashioned
way, I say, wish peas and potatoes, and meat, and things, and
cups that will hold half a pint and have some thickness that
you can feel in your mouth.'
And now she was to exchange the good, old-fashioned way
for what she termed ' folderol,' and for a time she did not like
it. But her husband was so delighted and eager that he suc-
ceeded in impressing her with some of his enthusiasm, and after
he had returned to his grocery, and her dishes were washed, she
removed her large kitchen apron, and pulling down the sleeves
of her dress, went and stood before the mirror, where she exa-
mined herself critically and not without some degree of
complacency.
Her hair was black and glossy, or would be if she had time
to care for it as it ought to be cared for; her eyes were bright,

TRACY PARK.

aill perhaps in timie she might learn to use them as M rs.
Atherton used bers.
AMrs. Atherton stood as the criterion for everything elegant
arid fashionable, and naturally it was with her that she com-
pared herself.
' She is older than I am,' she said to herself; 'there are crow-
tracks around her eyes, and her complexion is not a bit better
than mine was before I spoiled it with soap-suds, and stove
heat, and everything else.'
Then she looked at her hands, but they were red and rough,
and the nails were broken and not at all like the nails which
an expert has polished for an hour or more. Mrs. Atherton's
diamond rings would be sadly out of place on Dolly's fingers,
iout time and abstinence from work would do much for them,
she reflected, and after all it would lie nice to live in a grand
house, ride in a handsome carriage, and keep a hired girl to do
the heavy work. So, on the whole, she began to feel quite re-
conciled to her change of situation, and to wonder how she
ought to conduct herself in view of her future position. She
had intended going to the circus that night, but she gave that
tup, telling her husband that it was a second-class amusement
any way, and she did not believe that either Mrs. Atherton or
the young lady at Collingwood patronized such places. So they
staid at horne and talked together of what they should do at
Tracy Park, and wondered if it was their duty to ask all their
Langley friends to visit them. Mrs. Frank, as the more denmo-
cratic of the two, decided that it was. She was not going lo
begin by being stucd vp, she said, and when at last she left
Langley four weeks later, every man, woman, and child of her
fatiiliar acquaintance in town had been heartily invited to call
upon her at Tracy Park if ever they came that way.
Frank had disclosed of his business at a reasonable price, and
had rented his house with all the furniture, except such articles
as hiH wife insisted upon taking with her. The bureau, and
bedstead, and chairs which she and Frank had bought together
in Springfield just before their marriage, the Boston rocker her
mother had given her, and in which the old mother had sat
until the day she died, the cradle in which she had rocked her
first baby boy who was lving in the Langley grave-yard, were dear
W the wife and