Chapter I

“I can’t stand it any longer, Lottie; I won’t have her in the house!” exclaimed Samuel Lawton to his wife.

“But what are you going to do about it, Samuel? You surely wouldn’t have me turn my own mother into the street.”

“No, no—not exactly that; but can’t you give her a hint that she has staid long enough?”

“I’m sure I can’t, Samuel,” replied the young wife, with a sad and troubled look on her pretty face. “I don’t see why you should be so prejudiced against her.”

“Don’t you, my dear? Do you think it is pleasant for me to have one continually telling me I am extravagant, or something of that sort? She told me just now that I could not afford to buy turkeys for our Sunday dinner, when she saw me bring one home.”

“She meant right, Samuel.”

“But it is none of her business, Lottie.”

“She is older and more experienced in these matters than we are.”

“Fudge! Do you believe, Lottie, that I don’t know my own business a great deal better than she or any one else can teach me?” and the young husband put on a look of dignity which showed how deeply conscious he was of his own ability.

“I hope you do, Samuel,” replied Lottie, who, as can easily be supposed, was sorely perplexed by the difficulties of her unfortunate position.

Poor thing! She was a gentle-hearted, kind, and tender woman, and loved her mother as truly as becomes a married daughter. She was conscious that her mother had her peculiarities—as who has not?—and it was a source of continued regret to her that her husband could neither understand nor bear with them.

They had been married about a year and a half. Samuel Lawton was a merchant on a small scale. His employer had set him up in business about a year before his marriage, and he had done well; that is, above his expenses he had cleared some eight hundred or a thousand dollars, which was considered a very fair income for a young man.

The young merchant was elated with his success, and, like very many others in his situation, felt that he was an enterprising young man, and a thorough financier. The road to wealth was before him, and already he had formed a very clear idea of being at the head of a large importing house, with clerks and lumpers by the dozen at his command. His fancy also gilded the picture with a very costly mansion on Pemberton Hill, with a carriage and two sleek horses, a footman, and opera, concerts, and great parties to match.

Samuel Lawton formerly belonged to a “debating society,” in which the question of “early marriages” had been thoroughly discussed. The chairman had appointed him to sustain the affirmative; and either on account of the skill and eloquence with which he argued the point, or because the members were in favor of matrimony at the earliest possible day, it was decided that early marriages were eminently conducive to the morality and happiness of mankind in general.

One of the strongest arguments which our hero could offer in support of his cause was, that matrimony would save the young man from early dissipation. He even went so far in his zeal as to declare that a young man, even if he had not a penny in the world, had better be married than wait till he had the means. I will not trouble the reader with the facts and statistics by which he made it appear that it was cheaper to support man and wife than to support man alone. But the best evidence he could give of his devotion to his philosophy was to get married himself; and accordingly, though he had not the means of furnishing his house, and though he was still deeply in debt for his stock, he took a wife in the person of the youngest and last remaining daughter of a widow lady, possessing a little property in her own right.

Of course the young man had to run in debt for all the appurtenances of housekeeping; but this was nothing; he was doing well. It made no difference how much a man owed, provided he had the means to pay. He was very sanguine of his future success. His profits would be at least a thousand dollars a year; but, reckless follow, he had no more idea how far a thousand dollars would go than a baby. It seemed to him a very large sum, and he gauged his domestic expenditures on a pretty high scale.

When he married Mrs. Harding’s last remaining daughter, the widow was left alone. Lottie said it would be so nice to have her “dear mother” with her, and accordingly Samuel had invited her to make his house her home.

The good lady was in the main a very clever sort of person, who probably talked quite as bad, possibly a little worse, than she meant. She saw that her son-in-law was going too fast, and, in her own way, she made such comments as she deemed it the duty of a faithful mother-in-law to make.

Mr. Lawton did not relish what he deemed her interference. He was very clear in his own way, and to have a woman dictate to him, and croak about the possible result of his lavish expenditure, was intolerable; and when his patience was thoroughly exhausted, he spoke to his wife upon the subject, as we have written.

Truth has been compared to a two-edged sword, though it is generally believed that one edge to the sinner is sufficiently uncomfortable. Samuel Lawton had listened to his mother-in-law’s good advice, to her suggestions on the economy of the household, for more than a year, and Mrs. Lawton could not but wonder what it was that made her husband so “touchy” about it just now. He had always turned off the point of her rebuke with a jest; but now he looked sour, and actually wanted to get her mother out of the house.

The fact was, the young merchant had just begun to find out that a thousand dollars a year would not “keep house” like a nabob. Certain notes were about to fall due, and little debts without number had been contracted. The unpleasant truth began to dawn upon him that he was going faster than his means would permit.

In view of the consequences, he could already hear Mrs. Harding’s triumphant “I told you so.” He had resolved to reduce his expenses, to give over roast turkeys for his Sunday dinner, and come down to plain, old-fashioned pork and beans; but the idea of giving in that the odious mother-in-law was in the right was not to be harbored. He had postponed the contemplated retrenchment till those said certain notes began to cast ominous shadows in his pathway. It must be done, and Mrs. Harding’s presence became doubly troublesome.