A Husband Outwitted

.n. weejs ai me watering place, acá most of the time each day gpent io tbc company of Mr. Marwfll, the gentleman Miss Elsworth's oíd frienil, Ncd WLittaker, had iutroduccd to her one moining fm tho piazza. She liad sailed with him, liad strolled with him or ridden with him along tho hores on the moouüght evenings, aud she liaddanced with him iu the ttironged drawins-rooms. Misa Elwworth was not a flirt, who distributed heriikings among maDy gentlemen ; and she had found her ideal wcll nigh realized in Mr. Mar.well. Onlj the evening beiore, their talk had withdrawn itfelf from general topics, which lo each olher had beeu congenial, and in her admira! ion of his intelligenco and manlineas, she had eucouraüed an approaoh to tliat 8ort of personal conversation wbich relates to ove and matrimonv. And Dow to fiud Mr. Manwell tliis moruing with bis coat off and smilh's aproD on, engaged in mending a lock ! He was doiug it publicly. The lock was ou the door that ld to the middle of the fiont piazza, wliere the fasbionablj drcssed ladies iiud gentlemen were sittlns: or proiaenading. His back wan toward her as she spproached, leaniug ou the arm of lier frieud, Arme West. She recognized bim, looked inteutly at Lim, pave lier companiou over to a party of young ladies near, and theu siopped aud spoke to bim. you liko tliat iort of work, Mr. Manwell ?" 'I Jo, Miss Elawortb. I beüeve I am a natural mecbiinic." "It appears odd to see you doing tbis " "It is my trade,'' bo replied, rising from bis work and turning to her. Her clu-êk blancbed a little. "Your trade ?" fcho said, faintly. "My trade, Miss Elsworth. The proprietcr said the lock ueeded mending, and I told hiui I could nieud it for bim." The party of girls came olong just then. After woudering at Mr. Manwell awhile and l.augbing at bim, they propoaed a ride. There were thrco carriages among them all ; these would take the party. Ned Whittaker bere joined tbem. ''Wliat the deuce are jou about here ?" bo exclairatd to Mr. Manwell "Ab," he added, as the latter turned and glauced at liiin ; "but wbile you srebere you ruigbt as weli enjoy yourself." Mr. Manwell cxcused bimself froin joiuiog tho party, aad they all went away, leaviug him to complete bis work. Miss Elsworth left bim without a word t part lig. "It is well," he muttered to himself. "If she can not take me as I am ebe is not wortby of me. The woman that marries me must take me for inyself." He stood and looked after her untll sbe had disappeared. Sho did not once turn to look back, He gave bis shoulder a shrug, comprcesed his lips, uttered a cyuical "humph !" and turned to finish his work. ''Let it be so," he muttered, when he was through, and was putting on his coat. "I thought that perhaps I bad found a woman after my own beart. But let it beso. Amidst tbis world of wefllth and fashion, ebe, too, has lost her soul. Let her go." He avoided her herenfter. Ho did not seek to catch Ler eye for a bow of recognition. When she entered the drawing-room where ho was, he would go out by another way. But he was more than ever in the company of Ned Whittaker. Ned in passing to and fro between Miss Elsworth and him, served et 111 as a sort of link between thom. "You are a cynical fellow," said Ned, one day. "VVhy don't you také people as they are ? You will fiüdgood euough in thern." "But they won't take me as I am ; that is the troublc." "Pooh ! You see sho allows no oíher suitors to acconipany her. Don't you seo that che is alone, or with the git Is most of the time." "Her hoart is full of vanity. 'Pshaw ! She is trained to luxurious notions, that's all." Manwell's trunk was awaiting him and the stage, outsidc on the piazza, al the time this conversation was goiug on. On the trunk were hisinitials, "G. M." Miss Elsworth, passing that way, saw the initïals - not by chance, for slio had been very husy fcrutiuiziug the trunks thai lay together in a pile - and wheti she saw tho initials sbe siarted and turoed pale. Sbe recoverod herseli, nud v.ilhdrew from her oonpaniom a little way, and then Btood still and watcii-:ó. Süon Maawell can out with Ned upon the piazza. He chanced to turn Lis eyes toward her, their eyeg met- met for the first time siuce she had left bim while he wae at wirk upou the lock. Sho did not turn away her eyee. She bowed. Hespproached her and bid her good-by. Wbát the conversation wíis tüat ensu cd bulwuuu the two, whcu they wer loft alone by mean of Neil:n inganuit; in s.ii (ing away tho rest of the oomp&D, is unkaowu, savo the followiug : 'Bul lama locksitith," siid Mal olí. "No matter." "Are jou willing to livo the ife o one tvho wiih Lia hands earns kis du: ] bread P "I am willing to undergo anything t be with you. 1 havo suffored enough Duiit'g these last few days I havo learn ed what it is to despair of being matet to the one I Ioïo." "13ut your mothcr - j'our fatber ?" "Unlcss I am willing to leave thein for your sake, I am not worthy of you." ' lint the loss of wealth, posiiiou, of tho surrouudiiigs of reficcineut f" ''Do not say anylhing more. I am (filliug Ij leave all for your sake. I am irearv of beiog without you." "Woulfl you be williug to boconje my wife this duy, tbisjhour 'i Your fatber and mother niight put obstacles iii your wfiy I" "I ani willing this hour - tliie minute. They still think you aro wcaithy - as I did." "Come, tbot), W6 will go our way with Nei, and bccome beforo the world what we now are in spirit - liusbaod and wife ; and thoii, at once, we will take the ears to the horue I have for you - a homo, hough lowly, you 'jvill mako haDpy." "Wliither you go 1 will go." They were married in a quiet way íd be lttle watering-place cLupel, witb the vinL'pd Npr fíonni viní ñt thñ misriliief ?hc next train sped theni to the city. "I will show you the shop where I vork,'1 said Mauwell, wlien tho carriago which ihey took at the depot had drawu p before ono of a long line of brown ;onu houscs, in a splendid part of the " What do you moan ?" she denianded s Bhe accompsnied her husbaná up the road stepa at the door. "Mean," hs replied, "that tliis Í3 the ïome, and thia the workshop." And he led her íd, and among other rooms to which he conducted lns wife, was one fitted as a workshop, where, as he said, he was aecustomcd to indulge his lovo of inecbaaical woik, aftcr haviug ho a?8ured her, regularly served Lia time at learuiug a trade. Mrs. Manwell stood and looked at liim intently. "This is vour house ?" she askcd. "Yes, madam." "And you are not poor but rioh f" "Youspeak tho trutb, Mrs. Manwell " "Aud wby did jou play tiiis jest ou me V" "To seo wheiher you really loved me for rny own sake." "Ah, pretty, indeed! And euppo&e you do not love me V' "But I do." "Humphf So tbere was a littlefamily quarrel on the spot. "Now invite your father and mother to come and see us," said Mauwell, aiter the clonds bad eomcTvhat cleared away. "Iwill,"she replied- "I will. But first jou mjMt go with mo to see them, and pacify them in view of what we have doue." '■Verr well." In a few days they started cut in tlio carriage on their errand. Mrs. Manwell gave the directions to tbe driver, and her huaband could not help expressing his wonder at tho increasing squalor of the iieighborhood through whioh they rode. Tho oarriage drew up before a miserable lookmg tenement house, and stopped. "Where tLo deuce are you takiog me f" asked Manwell, lookiug sharply at his wifc. "Come and see,1' she replied, as she proceeded to step frora the carriage. "Here, wait," he exclaimed after Lis ürst hesitancy, "let me get out first and help you out. What does this mean ?' "Jíoüow me, was ber reply. She led him up stairs - up, up, tbrough throngs and dirt, and smells, to the fourth story. Here she opened Üe door wilbout knocking, and the two entered. The woman was dressed neatly, aod eo wero the children, but they were all dressed very poorly, in keeping witk the place. The man was ciad mora carelessly and even more poorly. On his head hekept his hat, which, certainly, was full half a dozen years oíd. "My husband, Mr. Manwell ; my father and mother, brothers and sisters," said Mrs. Manwell, introduciug all partios. Manwell stood and stared without speaking. "Ask their pardon, George," said Mrs. Manwell, "for runniog away with mo." "Whoare they?" "Have I not told you ; didn't I introduce you ?" "Wbo were thoso at the watering place ?" "Somo wealthy people who had seen me at the milliner's whure I sewed for a livelihood - served my trade, George, and fanoied my appearanco, dressed nio up and took me there with them." "You jest." "Do I ? Do I indeed ? These people seemed to recognize me as a daughter and a sister. Jest, iudeed ! - You will find that out." "Y(iu are too cultivated, too tasteful too fine featnredl" "All thie," said Mrs. Manwell, "a milliner may be, or a sewiog girl. Look for yourself among the class. Iu it not true ? All that we girls necd, is diess." Manwcll lifted hia Cst and d;;shed it through the air. He ground his teeth, and turning away, left Ihe room, slaniïniug the door violently behind him. His wife took off her hat and cloak, and flung herself down at a t:ible aüd buried her face in her liandkerchitif. Ihe door opencd agaD, aud Jlanwell put in Lis head. "You bave decoived me," he said, "but oome, you aro ui}' wifc, T will try and bear ■■ SLfc sprang to ber feut and confronted bira. "Your wife, am I ?" slio exclaimed, "and doomed to Vwo with one tbat does not love her, but was in love witb ber circumstanees! No, sir, you may go; I will not Uve a wife unloved for myee'.f- you must take ino ttius, or I will i 8tay. Stilll can work." Ho closcd the door and retired down stairs to ihe street, clcuching big hands and tceth as lio wout. "The horrible disgrace of it," he muttered. "The derision tbat will bo my lot. And tbcn to marry such a girl !" But at the street door ho tarried. He had to struggle with liiuiself all alono. Suddenly lie turned and datbed impetuously up stuirs, iluug open the door of the room, seizod his wife iu his arma and clasped her to bis heart. "Aly wife," he wbi:-pcrei3 in her ear; "such you are and ever shall be, befora God and before the world." "Now I begin to think that you loye me," she said, smiling in his face. "You do love ino ? Youreally tbink you do, Georgo f" He clasped her more tightly to him. "Come, tben," said ehe, "though of 8uch parents as thee, poor as tboy are, I should uot feel ashamed - yet they are not my parents, but havo otily played a partin which I have iostruoted thern. Slmke hands with theui, George, they aro worthy people." And Le did shake hands with them, .. and what ia more he helpcd tLem. s A merry party waa gathered that evening at Manwell'a house, a party i o nsisting of Mr. and Mrs. Manwcll aud t their guests, Mr. and Mrs. Elsworth, and youug lady acquaintances at tho wateri ing place, aud Ned VVliittaker. Ned was , never n better spirits, nor, let it be stated, were Mr. and Mrs. Elsworth, and who forgave their daugliler and her husband without hesitatioa. i "I aay George," said Ned, -whispering íq Manwell's ear, "two can play at that game, cau't they ?" Manwell took Ned's jeering very soberly. "Yes," eaid he, after a few uiomeuts of thoughtfuluesa. "and the experience has taught me a lesson. What fools the prido of wealth inakes of us all. I thought eho ought to have taken me regardless of my circumstanees, for luyselt' alone, and without hesitation, even. And yet, when elie teased me, I, myseli, was found wanting. Shall we ever learn to disregard a person's occupation, nod to look only at the character and tho soul f" Ned shruggcd bis ehoulders dubious"I think I have learned the lesson," Manwell added. i