Democratic Sentinel, Volume 6, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 November 1882 — FINLAYSON’S OPERA-GLASSES [ARTICLE]

FINLAYSON’S OPERA-GLASSES

Mrs. Finlayson felt aggrieved on returning to the domestic hearth in Bryanstone square one evening, from a short visit to some friends in the country, at finding that her husband was not at home to receive her. If he would not take the trouble to meet her at the st ition, she thought he might at least have made a point of welcoming her on the threshold of his house. She subsequently ascertained that her lord and master had started on a journey to Liverpool early in the morning, and was not expected back till late. This information, however, did not soothe the good lady’s ruffled spirit, though she had been married long enough to realize the exigencies of business. The truth was, that old Mat Finlayson, as his friends called him, after a prolonged and jovial bachelor existence, had developed into such a docile and attentive husband that lie reaped the reward of his excellence in the shape of domestic tyranny and oppression. When the truant at length made his appearance he was greeted by the wife of his bosom in the chilliest manner. The lady was tired and s'eepy, or she mi >ht have had a good deal to say on the subject of his alleged neglect. She contented herself, however, with haughtily repelling his friendly advances and answering his questions in monosyllables. Mr. Finlayson seemed much less tenderly affected by this behavior than usual, a circumstance which did not escape his wife’s notice. He was evidently in a nervous and preoccupied frame of mind, which he explained by saying that he had had a long and disagreeable day’s business. Mrs. Finlayson was so struck by his demeanor that she began to wonder what he had been doing, an uncomfortable suspicion which frequently occurred to her, though it originated entirely in her naturally exacting and jealous disposition. Next morning Mr. Finlayson had to start very early for the city to keep an appointment, and took his departure with remarkable alacrity, as though glad to escape from his wife’s presence. That lady had arrived at the firm conviction, as the result of close observation and watchfulness since his return the preceding evening, that her lord ' was oppressed by some guilty secret. She knew the outward and visible signs of business worries, and felt sure that the cause of his present uneasiness was a troubled conscience arising from some serious misdemeanor. No doubt the demon of jealousy helped her to arrive at this conclusion, but it is certain that for some reason or other Mr. Finlayson did not appear to regard the . home-coming of his wife on tins occasion with unmixed satisfaction. The morning’s post did not arrive until alter he had left, and consequently Mrs. Finlayson assumed the wifely function of opening her husbands letters. It seemed as though there was nothing in the correspondence to satisfy the uneasy curiosity which prompted her to examine every letter with increased attention. But when she came to the last of the batch—a blue, officiallooking envelope, which she had put aside as eminently uninteresting—she was seized with mild mystification. It was a formal communication from the Director of the Lost Property Office, at Scotland Yard, stating that a pair of field-glasses, bearing the name and address of Mr. Finlayson, had been found in a public conveyance the day before, and would be restored on payment of a small percentage upon the declared value. What struck Mrs. Finlayson as strange upon reading this intimation was that her husband’s field-glasses stood at the present moment on the mantel-shelf in bis dressing-room. She had by chance noticed them just before, but to make sure she immediately went up stairs to satisfy herself upon the point. The glasses were beyond a doubt in their accustomed place. With vague curiosity Mrs. Finlayson took them out of the case, inside which was glued one of her husband’s visiting cards, inscribed with his name and address. She knew they were the only glasses he possessed, and consequently they must be the identical ones referred to in the communication from the police. A few moments’ reflection suggested the probable explanation of what had happened with regard to them. Evidently they had been claimed at the Lost Property Office after the police had dispatched to her husband a formal intimation of their recovery. This, however, was a very small part of the mystery. The serious question was, what had hei" husband wanted to take the glasses to Liverpool for, and why had he made no mention of his singular good luck in recovering a valuable article left in a cab? The obvious answer seemed to be that he bad not gone to Liverpool at all, but had attended some race meeting, under 1 the pretense of being away on business. This idea came to Mrs. Finlayson like a revelation, and she resolved to sift the matter to the bottom. For her morning drive she went to Scotland Yard, where she obtained a confirmation of her theory as to what had taken place concerning the glasses. They were brought in early in the morning by the driver of a hansom cab, who had just taken a fare at King’s Cross station to catch the special train for Doncaster races. The owner’s name and address being found inside the case an official notice was sent off, according to custom; but later in the day a lad, apparently a clerk, came, who said that Mr. Finlayson had telegraphed him to inquire for the glasses at Scotland Yard, and, if necessary, to pay the finder’s fee. As the application was evidently bona fide the glasses was given up. Mrs. Finlayson did not know whether to be elated or dismayed by the result of these inquiries, for, while there was a sort of grim satisfaction in finding her surmises were correct, the information thus acquired suggested alarming imposture and deceit on the part of her husband. It looked as though he were accustomed to spend the time which she innocently thought he devoted exclusively to business in a more agreeable but less

profitable manner. But, even supposing this to be the case, what was the reason for his concealing the fact ? She did not object to his going to a race-meet-ing occasionally, and she had even accompanied him now and again on these excursions. If, during her absence, the spirit had moved him to pay a visit to Doncaster, why need he have made a mystery about the matter ? She forgot, perhaps, that she might have been tempted to indulge in unpleasant remarks about his taking advantage of her temporary absence to plunge into a vortex of dissipation and profligacy; and had this reflection occurred to her it might have furnished a clew to her husband’s mysterious behavior. But Mrs. Finlayson was not in a mood to find excuses for him, being possessed of gloomy forebodings and jealous suspicions. She instinctively felt that she had made a discovery wliich might lead tJ disclosures affecting her domestic happiness, and was irresistibly impelled to follow the matter up and astertain the worst. She therefore obtained from the police the name and address of the cabman who had restored the glasses, in order to satisfy her mind upon the vital point of whether her husband had gone to the races alone or in equivocal society. Mrs. Finlayson was a strong-minded woman, and was not to be daunted by trifles. Thus, though the cabman she was in search of lived in a mews in a distant suburb, she did not hesitate to proceed thither immediately. Her enterprising spirit was rewarded by the coincidence that the cabman drove up to change his horse just as she reached his address. He was a civil-spoken young fellow, and readily answered her inquiries. He recollected driving an elderly gentleman to King's Cross Station the previous morning to catch an early train for Dover. The gentleman had hailed him as he was passing the top of Bryan stone square, and came out of one of the houses on the left-hand side. There was a sly look on the man’s face -while he spoke which plainly showed that he could tell more if he chose. He was loyal enough, however, not to volunteer information rashly, and it was only on being pressed that he revealed the damning fact that his fare had ordered him to drive by Regent's Circus, where he had met—evidently by appointment —a fashionably-dressed young lady, who accompanied him on his expedition. Mrs. Finlayson rewarded the man for his civility, and returned home quivering with rage and indignation. It was a severe shock to her feelings to learn that her husband, whose conjugal fidelity and devotion she had never really doubted, was carrying on an unhallowed flirtation with another woman. When she reflected that she now occupied the painful and invidious position of a wronged wife, she felt overwhelmed by the magnitude of the misfortune which had befallen her, and her anger gave place to bitter humiliation and anguish. Bu£, though she would now fain have persuaded herself that her suspicions were groundless, her fatal curiosity impelled her, on her arrival home, to crossquestion Simmonds, the butler. Mr. Simmonds was a sedate and pompus individual, whose only merit was attachment to his master, whom he had served in the capacity of valet in his bachelor days. A kind of armed neutrality existed between Simmonds and his m'stress, each being secretly jealous of the other’s influence over the head of the household. Mrs. Finlayson made her inquiries guardedly, but was met by a similar spirit of caution. It soon became evident that, whatever the man knew or suspected of his master's proceedings, he was not going to reveal anything. He did not deny, however, that Mr. Finlayson had been a.way from home a good deal during his wife’s absence, and his marked reserve served to confirm his mistress’ suspicions. “Y r our master left early yesterday morning, did he not, Simmonds?” said Mrs. Finlayson. “What time did he leave?” “He left the house shortly after 1 halfpast six,, ma’am,” replied the man, sulkily. “Did he leave in a cab?” “He hailed one at the end of the square. I was sounding my whistle on the door-step when master hurried past me and said he could not wait.” Poor Mrs. Finlayson’s heart sank on hearing this. These apparently trifling details fitted in exactly with the cabman’s evidence. “Did—did your master take his field glasses with him ?” inquired Mrs. Finlayson, in desperation. “I don’t know, ma’am,” replied the man with strong deliberation which belied his words. Mrs. Finlayson asked nothing further, being entirely convinced, not only of her husband’s deceit, but also that the man Simmonds was his abettor and accomplice. She began to reflect seriously how she should act in the present disagreeable emergency. Strangely enough, the startling revelation which had come upon her so unexpectedly seemed to have subdued both her temper and her strong-mindedness. She thought more of her wretchedness than of venting her righteous anger or indignation upon her offending spouse. To add to her tribulation she was troubled by self-upbraid ng thoughts, which accused her of haying habitually presumed upon her husband’s eisv good nature, and of having probably by that means alienated his affections from her. This litter reflection materially increased her unhappiness, though it inclined her to forbearance and forgiveness. When her husband returned in the evening he found her in tears, the picture of misery and despair. He looked startled and uneasy at the sight of lief distress, and nervously inquired what ailed her. “Oh! Matthew, how can you ask?” she exclaimed, shrinking from his embrace. “I know the truth about yesterday. Y r ou have been deceiving me for a long time.” “My love, I acted with the best intentions,” he answered, eagerly. “I only wished to spare you your brother’s disgrace. Heaven knows! I have been worried out of my life over that wretched business, and was afraid I should not be able to avert a criminal prosecution. However, I shipped him off to America yesterday, and hoped you would never know anything of the matter.” “What! my brother Hubert?” exclaimed Mrs. Finlayson, with a start. “Yes. Ever since I put him into our Liverpool house I have been uneasy about him, and there is no doubt, I’m afraid, that he forged that acceptance. However, he has escaped the serious consequences of his indiscretion, and let us hope that in a new country he will amend his ways,” said Mr. Finlayson, seating himself on the sofa and kissing his wife, sympathetically. Mrs. Finlayson was silent for a moment, rendered speechless by the intensity of her emotion. A humiliating sense of her own meanness and ingratitude caused a flush of shame to mount to her cheek. She could not, however, restrain herself from saying: “I had an idea, Matthew, until now, that you might have gone to Doncaster yesterday.” “Not I,” replied her husband, in evident surprise. “But, by Jove!” he added, rising and ringing the bell violently, “that reminds me! a man I met to-day swears positively that he saw

Simmonds There. The rascal must have bolted off directly my back was turned without asking permission.”— London Truth. ' •