"You look hot and excited, Elsie love," said Mr.Decker."You ain't took worse, are you?"Mrs Decker's face had paled, but now flushed again."No," she said; "only a little pain here," as she again placed her hand upon her corsage.
"Can I do any thing for you?" said Mr.Decker, rising with affectionate concern.
"Run over to the hotel and get me some brandy, quick!"Mr.Decker ran.Mrs Decker closed and bolted the door, and then, putting her hand to her bosom, drew out the pain.It was folded foursquare, and was, I grieve to say, in Mr.Oakhurst's handwriting.
She devoured it with burning eyes and cheeks until there came a step upon the porch; then she hurriedly replaced it in her bosom, and unbolted the door.Her husband entered.She raised the spirits to her lips, and declared herself better.
"Are you going over there again to-night?" asked Mr.Decker submissively.
"No," said Mrs.Decker, with her eyes fixed dreamily on the floor.
"I wouldn't if I was you," said Mr.Decker with a sigh of relief.
After a pause, he took a seat on the sofa, and, drawing his wife to his side, said, "Do you know what I was thinking of when you came in, Elsie?" Mrs.Decker ran her fingers through his stiff black hair, and couldn't imagine.
"I was thinking of old times, Elsie: I was thinking of the days when I built that kerridge for you, Elsie,--when I used to take you out to ride, and was both hoss and driver.We was poor then, and you was sick, Elsie; but we was happy.We've got money now, and a house; and you're quite another woman.I may say, dear, that you're a NEW woman.And that's where the trouble comes in.Icould build you a kerridge, Elsie; I could build you a house, Elsie--but there I stopped.I couldn't build up YOU.You're strong and pretty, Elsie, and fresh and new.But somehow, Elsie, you ain't no work of mine!"He paused.With one hand laid gently on his forehead, and the other pressed upon her bosom, as if to feel certain of the presence of her pain, she said sweetly and soothingly,--"But it was your work, dear."
Mr.Decker shook his head sorrowfully."No, Elsie, not mine.Ihad the chance to do it once, and I let it go.It's done now--but not by me."Mrs.Decker raised her surprised, innocent eyes to his.He kissed her tenderly, and then went on in a more cheerful voice,--"That ain't all I was thinking of, Elsie.I was thinking that maybe you give too much of your company to that Mr.Hamilton.Not that there's any wrong in it, to you or him; but it might make people talk.You're the only one here, Elsie," said the master-carpenter, looking fondly at his wife, "who isn't talked about, whose work ain't inspected or condemned."Mrs.Decker was glad he had spoken about it.She had thought so too.But she could not well be uncivil to Mr.Hamilton, who was a fine gentleman, without ****** a powerful enemy."And he's always treated me as if I was a born lady in his own circle," added the little woman, with a certain pride that made her husband fondly smile."But I have thought of a plan.He will not stay here if Ishould go away.If, for instance, I went to San Francisco to visit ma for a few days, he would be gone before I should return."Mr.Decker was delighted."By all means," he said, "go to-morrow.
Jack Oakhurst is going down; and I'll put you in his charge."Mrs.Decker did not think it was prudent."Mr.Oakhurst is our friend, Joseph; but you know his reputation." In fact, she did not know that she ought to go now, knowing that he was going the same day; but, with a kiss, Mr.Decker overcame her scruples.She yielded gracefully.Few women, in fact, knew how to give up a point as charmingly as she.
She staid a week in San Francisco.When she returned, she was a trifle thinner and paler than she had been.This she explained as the result of perhaps too active exercise and excitement."I was out of doors nearly all the time, as ma will tell you," she said to her husband, "and always alone.I am getting quite independent now," she added gayly."I don't want any escort.I believe, Joey dear, I could get along even without you, I'm so brave!"But her visit, apparently, had not been productive of her impelling design.Mr.Hamilton had not gone, but had remained, and called upon them that very evening."I've thought of a plan, Joey dear,"said Mrs.Decker, when he had departed."Poor Mr.Oakhurst has a miserable room at the hotel.Suppose you ask him, when he returns from San Francisco, to stop with us.He can have our spare-room.
I don't think," she added archly, "that Mr.Hamilton will call often." Her husband laughed, intimated that she was a little coquette, pinched her cheek, and complied."The queer thing about a woman," he said afterward confidentially to Mr.Oakhurst, "is, that, without having any plan of her own, she'll take anybody's, and build a house on it entirely different to suit herself.And dern my skin if you'll be able to say whether or not you didn't give the scale and measurements yourself! That's what gets me!"The next week Mr.Oakhurst was installed in the Deckers' cottage.
The business relations of her husband and himself were known to all, and her own reputation was above suspicion.Indeed, few women were more popular.She was domestic, she was prudent, she was pious.In a country of great feminine ******* and latitude, she never rode or walked with anybody but her husband.In an epoch of slang and ambiguous expression, she was always precise and formal in her speech.In the midst of a fashion of ostentatious decoration, she never wore a diamond, nor a single valuable jewel.
