Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 106, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 May 1911 — The Sheffield Tray [ARTICLE]

The Sheffield Tray

By TEMPLE BAILEY

(ConriAt. mt, b A— iiSSii literary hm.)

*1 don’t want a wooden tray," Pattenon said. *1 want to he sure when I set my tea cup down that rm not going to lean a mark. It’a all rery well for you careful housewives, who have time to polish your mahogany. But I have to leave such things to my man, so I’ll take a metal one, please. If you can find It for me.” "Careful house wires!” Mrs. Carrington reproached him. "Can any one be a careful housewife who lives In an apartment Ot two rooms?” “Well, you keep everything shining end perfect,” Patterson told her. '‘lt’s an index of the way you would manage a big house.” “But I don’t want to manage a big house,” Mrs. Carrington protested plaintively. “For go many years I lived In a barn of a place.” She shudPatterson spoke quickly. “But love wasn’t there. It wouldn’t have •sensed barn-like if your husband had keen congenial.” “Please—" Mrs. Carrington held up %AT hands in a little gesture of entreaty—“ Please. we won’t talk about it” Patterson kept rebelliously silent. He hated the attitude of her widowhood, which made her forget the faults of her husband and remember only his virtues. Everybody knew that Carrington had been a brute, that Mrs. Carrlngotn had suffered, and that death had brought her release.

“It is so -coxy here*” she said hurriedly, ! 'and I picked out just the things I loved best from my big house. The old mahogany was my mother's. The books were a part of my father’s library, and the pictures I selected myself.” Patterson noticed that there wasn't one article of her husband’s choosing. “Where did you get your tray?” he •eked abruptly. “This?” Mrs. Carrington moved the fragile teacups so that the oval of polished mahogany could be seen at its best It had a rim of metal and an inlaid star In the middle. "My husband gave it to me. We bought It at an auction in those first days—” Her voice faltered. ‘1 have kept It because It marked the high tide of romance. 1 remember the dim store with Its array of antiques, and the auctioneers droning voice. Arthur wanted me to have this tray. He really paid a fabulous sum for It, far In excess of its value.” “He had money,” Patterson said bitterly. “Tet here I am limiting you to a paltry |16.” He hesitated, then plunged In hotly: “But, after all, ■why ahould we have such a multiplicity of trays, when, If you could only Aee it my way, we might share our belongings for the rest of our Utss.” “Don’t,” she begged. “I am glad to have your friendship, and it pleases me that you should ask me to help you furnish your little apartment —but I cannot share it—l want to be free.” Patterson stood up. “I know,” he «tid. “Your husband made you feel that marriage was bondage, but it would be different with me.” 1 “Oh," she smiled up at him brightly, "let ue just be friends, and I’ll help you pick out your old mahogany and your brasses and your rugs, but you mustn't expect anything more of use.” When Patterson went back that night to his bachelor home he was depressed with the futility of his effdrta to make it comfortable. On his return from the Philippines he had been full of enthusiasm over his plans fer comfortable living. He had talked of the superiority of masculine housekeeping, and had congratulated himself upon the possession of a Japanese servant who could be more to him - than wife or housekeeper. Then he had found that Rita Carrington was free, and immediately the sense of the glory of his bachelor estate had departed. Ail his life he had loved Rita, but she had chosen Carrington. and the rejected suitor had gone away to find forgetfulness in a far country.

He had discovered that he could hold Rita’s friendship beat by means of practical things. She would not talk of romance, but she wouty talk of rugs and antiques and mahogany, hence he had commissioned her to buy him many things. It gave him the opportunity to talk to her over the telephone and to call on her frequently. They had many things in common, such as samovars, andirons, candlesticks and fire screens. It was at ten o’clock the next morning that Rita called him up about the Sheffield tray. “Where do you think I have found one?" she asked. "Not at an auction house this time, but in an English family. The Janitor told me about it; the woman won’t sell it without her husband's consent He will be at home tonight, apd I want to go there. Will you go with me?" , Patterson Jumped at the chance. "At seven o’clock sharp. Is that too early?” fc It really seemed that the husband ate sew® o’clock supper, and went to bed soon after. His wife thought they had better come before sleep overcame "He’s not anxious to sell it." Rita stated. "He may need a little coaxThey went on the trolley oar. Pat-

tenon would have had a taxicab, b«t Rita protested. “We want all of your spare money tor that Bhelfield tray," she told him. “and you’re not .rich.” “You aeedn’t nib it in,” Patterson remarked. She laughed. Tm not rich, either” she told him. “Arthur’s money went, you know; bad Investments and all that" “It Isn't any wonder, Rita, that after the luxury of your life you don’t want to come down to my level,” Pattenon said. w She flashed a reproachful glance at him. “You know It Isn’t that; I am afraid—afraid that our romance might end—as the other one did." Then Patterson’s anger flared. “Why should you judge me by him?" he demanded. “Aren’t at! men alike?” aha asked. They found the young Englishman at his vary hearty supper. Mrs. Carrington brought up the subject of the tray somewhat timidly. “We heard that you had one. and we an very anxious to see it” ’lt is an old family piece,” the young man said. ’l’d never sell it but my wife thinks it is best” The little rosy-cheeked woman came to her own defense. "We need the money," she said, “because we are buying a house, and it is to be our home, and rd rather have that than all the trays In the world.” Her husband brought his fist down heavily on the table. "That’s right” he said heartily, “the girl and I need a home, and we are going to have it” “You see,” the little wife explained eagerly, “we found a little white house in the suburbs, and I had some money saved up, and he had some money saved up, and we made a payment and in the spring we are going to move Into It and we’re going to have roses on the porch and a garden with our own vegetables, and maybe some day well keep a cow."

“You have never seen such a girl for flowers,” the young husband told them, "I believe she coaid make them grow in the desert" The supper was almost forgotten as the homely little couple told of their plans and aspirations Then, a little later, a transfer was made, a check went Into the young husband’s pocket and Patterson went away with the tray under his arm. As they walked through the dark streets, Rita said softly, “Think what life means to them.” “Think what it might mean to us,” Patterson answered, looking down at her. “Did you notice the way they spoke of home?” Rita asked. “Yes, it means something to them besides mahogany and old hrs Mes. Oh, Rita. Rita, aren’t we wasting our lives over things that don’t count?” For the first time she admitted, “Perhaps.” Patterson had a sudden inspiration. “Let us send that young couple your tray for a house-warm-ing present Then you can put aside old memories and we will begin over again. We will find a house In the suburbs, Rita, and put our mahogany and rugs and brasses In it, and my Sheffield tray shall have its place on your sideboard, not on mine, and you shall serve tea te me every afternoon from it —and it will be home.” • And Rita, enraptured by the picture he had painted of domestic Joys, breathed a little sigh and whispered, "Yes, It will be home."