FullReads

But as the season advanced, Arthur became more engrossed with business. The rides became less frequent, and Mary, accustomed to the society of her mother and sister, often passed lonely days in her new home, and her dislike to it in some degree returned. Her affection for her husband, however, prevented the expression of these feelings, and she endeavouved to forget her loneliness in attention to household duties; reading, and music; but these resources would sometimes fail.

It was one of those bright afternoons in the latter part of autumn, when the sun shines forth with almost summer-like warmth, and the heart is gladdened with the departing beauty of nature. Mary was seated alone in her pleasant parlour, with her books and her work by her side.

“How I wish Arthur would return early!” she said, aloud, as she gazed from their open window. “It will be such a lovely evening. We could have an early tea, and ride over to father’s and return by moonlight; it would be delightful;” and filled with this idea, she really expected her husband, although it still wanted two hours of the usual time of his return; and laying aside her work, began to make some preparations for the evening meal. She was interrupted by a call from an old friend who lived nearly two miles distant, and, intending to pass the afternoon at Mr. Melville’s, had called to request Mary to accompany her.

The young wife was in considerable perplexity. She had a great desire to go to her father’s, but she was unwilling to have Arthur return home and find her absent; and moreover, she felt a strong impression that he would himself enjoy the ride in the evening, and would, perhaps, be disappointed if she were not at home to go with him. So, with many thanks the invitation was declined, the visiter departed, and Mary returned with a light heart to the employment which the visit had interrupted.

Janet, the assistant in the kitchen, entered into the feelings of her mistress, and hastened to assist her with cheerful alacrity, declaring that she knew “Mr. Hartwell would be home directly,–it was just the evening for a ride,” etc.&c.–this; ebullition of her feelings being partly caused by sympathy with the wishes of her young mistress, and partly by her own desire to have the house to herself for the reception of some particular friends, who had promised to favour her with their company that evening.

But alas! the hopes of both mistress and maid were destined to be disappointed. The usual time for Arthur’s return passed by, and still he did not appear, and it was not until the deepening twilight had almost given place to the deeper shades of evening, that Mary heard his well known step, and springing from the sofa where she had thrown herself after a weary hour of watching, she flew to the door to greet him.

“Oh, Arthur!” she exclaimed, forgetful that he was quite ignorant of all that had been passing in her mind for the last few hours, “how could you stay so late? I have waited for you so long, and watched so anxiously. It is quite too late for us to go now.”

“Go where, Mary?” was the surprised reply. “I did not recollect that we were to go anywhere this evening. I know I am rather late home, but business must be attended to. I meant to have told you not to expect me at the usual hour.”

This was too bad. To think that she had refused Mrs. Elmore’s kind invitation, and had passed the time in gazing anxiously from the window, when she might have enjoyed the society of father, mother, and all the dear ones at home; and now to find that Arthur actually knew that he should not return till late, and might have saved her this disappointment, it was really very hard; and Mary turned away to hide the starting tears, as she replied,