A Modern Instance

as if it were a voluntary self-sacrifice for her to love more than her share. Not only other men, but other women, look on with this canonizing compassion; for women ha

her than she for him; and for the time being, in order to realize the situation, she loads him with all the sins of omission proper to the culpri

-six one does not naturally compute them in musing upon the girl to whom one is just betrothed; and Bartley's mind was a confusion of pleasure. He liked so well to think how fond of him Marcia was, that it did not occur to him then to question whether he were as fond of her. It is possible that as he drowsed, at last, there floated airily through the consci

est feeling, swerved in his fealty to her. In the atmosphere of her devotion yesterday, he had so wholly forgotten his sufferings that he had imagined himself well; but now he found that he was not well, and he began to believe that he was going to have what the cou

Henry Bird, the young printer who had picked up his trade in the office, and who acted as Bartley's foreman, so far as the establishment had an organization. Bird had industry and discipline which were contagious, and that love of his work which is said to be growing rare among artisans in the modern subdivision of trades. This boy-for he was only nineteen-worked at his craft early and late out of pleasure in it. He seemed one of those simple, subordinate natures which are happy in looking up to whatever assumes to be above them. He exulted to serve in a world where most people prefer to be served, and it is uncertain whether he liked his work better for its own sake, or Bartley's, for whom he did it. He was slight and rather delicate in health, and it came natural for Bartley to patronize him. He took him on the long walks of which he was fond, and made him in some sort his humble confidant, talking to him of himself and his plans with large and braggart vagueness. He depended upon Bird in

g-office. He felt feverish and irritable, and he resolved to fill up with selections and let his editorial paragraphing go, or get Bird to do it. He was tired of the work, and sick of Equity; Marcia's face seemed to look

Bird, "we have copy enough for t

demanded Bartley,

he is sick, and we haven't heard or

orehead, as if to rub out the dull pain there. "Well," he said, "I must go to work myself, then." He rose, and too

said he wanted to see you. I think he was drunk," sai

untry,-especially in Equity. I suppose he wants Hannah's wages

ehind, Mr. Hubbard, if we

ng the forenoon. At any rate, we can

hich made it impossible even in the logging-camps, and rendered the sale of spirits too precarious for the apothecary, who might be supposed to deal in them medicinally, Morrison never failed of h

f their neighbors struggled in vain. Mrs. Morrison was that pariah who, in a village like Equity, cuts herself off from hope by taking in washing; and it was a decided rise in the world for Hannah, a wild girl at school, to get a

himself past active offence. It was of course in his defiant humor that he came to visit Bartley, who had learned to expect him whenever Hannah failed to appear promptly at her work. The affair was always easily arranged. Bartley instantly assented, with whatever irony he liked, to Morrison's demands; he refused with overwhelming politeness even to permit him to give himself the trouble to support them by argument; he complimented Hannah inordinately as one of the most gifted and accomplished ladies of his acquaintance, and inquired affectionately after the health of each member of the Morrison family. When Morrison rose to go he always said, in shaking hands, "Wel

st flattering distinction, and baffling his arrogance by immediate concession. But this morning, when Morrison came back with a front of uncommon fierceness, he merely looked up from his newspapers, to which he ha

ame, when the drunkard approached and struck the table in front of him with his f

no such business! No, sir!" He struck the table aga

ing away. "Hollo here!" he shouted. "Wha

orted the drunkard, "by

," cried Bartl

m drunk," said Morrison. He opened the door and beckoned to Bir

een called by his consent to witness another agreement to a rise in Hannah's wages. He came quickly, to help g

the boy, and he turned

ely back. "I want you," he said, with drunken impressiveness, "for

of this!" He advanced a pace or two toward M

e of mood, by which he passed from arrogant denunciation to a smooth, patronizin

word difficult to sober tongues, and the latter went on: "No 'casio

his chair, which he tilted back, and, clasping his hands behind h

ng like a bill of particulars against Bartley, and this demand gave him

good girl, and a very brigh

ny. What-what you lend

ct to that? I thought you once thank

what I thank you for," said Morrison,

on. I'm in a great hurry

he strain of keeping his upright position began to tell upon him, and he swayed to

get on if she was good-or words to that effect. I

found his vagueness growing upon him. He ended by fumbling in all his pockets, and

it up before him and read aloud, "'I love my love with an H because he is Handsome.' This appear

name?" demanded Morrison, with an eff

his head to Bird, who took it silently. "You see," he continued, addressing Bird, but looking at Morrison as he spoke, "M

nient chair, and struggled to keep himself from doubling forwa

r, pulling him up out of the chair till he held him clear of the floor, and opened the door with his other hand. "Don't show your face here again,-you o

at: "Miserable tipsy rascal!" he panted; "

still, nolding the crumple

d put him up to it. She's capable of it," said Bartley, fumbling a

lie!" sa

of his face for pure amazement. "Are you out of your mind, Henry?" he asked calmly. "Perha

e tears sprang to his eyes. "She's as go

said Bartley, with a de

for you." He pulled down his shirt-sleeves, and buttoned them at the wrists, while the tears ra

"Why, I do believe you're in love w

believe that you were a gentleman, and wouldn't take a mean advantage. I was a fool to suppose

arrel with me, my boy. She flies at higher game than humble newspaper editors. The head of Willett's lumbering gang is your

men are blind and jealous children alike, when it comes to question of a woman between them, and this poor boy's passion was turning him into a tiger. "Don't co

stantly as if Bird's touch had set the mechanism of his arm in motion. In contempt of the other's weakness he struck with the flat o