Home Scenes, and Home Influence | Page 6

confess that he was not able
to pay for it, had in it something so humiliating, that he could not bear
the thought for a moment. But if the note was not paid,--what then?
Might not the instrument be demanded? And how could he give it up
now? Or, worse, might it not be seized under execution?
"Oh, that I had never bought it!" he at length exclaimed, mentally, in
the bitterness of his feelings. And then he half chid himself for the
extorted declaration.
Nearly the whole of the morning was spent in the vain attempt to
borrow the needed sum. But there was no one to lend him four hundred
dollars. At length, in his desperation, he forced himself to apply for a
quarter's advance of salary.
"No doubt," said he, within himself, "that the holder of the note will
take two hundred and fifty dollars on account, and give me time on the
balance."
About the ways and means of living for the next three months, after
absorbing his salary in advance, he did not pause to think. He was just
in that state of mind in which he could say, with feeling, "Sufficient
unto the day is the evil thereof." Unhappily, his effort to raise money
by this expedient failed. His application was received coldly, and in a
way to mortify him exceedingly.
Half desperate, and half despairing, Brainard started for his home about
one o'clock, his usual hour for dining. What was he to do? He turned
his thoughts to the right and to the left, groping about like a man in the
dark. But no light broke in upon his mental vision.
"It will not do to meet Anna in this way," said he, as he approached his
own door. "I left her with a troubled countenance in the morning. Now
I must force an assumed cheerfulness."
He entered, and was moving along the passage, when Anna came out
through one of the parlour doors to meet him, and drawing her arm
through his, said, in a lively tone,--
"Come, George, I want to play for you a favourite piece. I've been
practising it for the last hour."
And she drew him into the parlour, and, taking her seat at the piano,
commenced running her fingers over the keys. Brainard stood and
listened to the music until the piece was finished, trying, but in vain, to

feel an interest in the performance.
"How do you like that?" said the wife, with animation, lifting her
sparkling eyes to the face of her husband, which was serious, in spite of
all he could do to give it a better expression.
"Beautifully performed," replied Brainard.
"And do you really think so?" said Anna, as she arose and leaning on
his arm again, drew him into the next room.
"Certainly, I do."
"Didn't you think the instrument a little out of tune?" asked Anna.
"No; it struck me as being in better tune than when you played last
evening."
"It's a fine instrument, certainly. I prize it very much."
Brainard sighed faintly.
"Oh! How about your four hundred dollars?" said Anna, as if the
thought had just occurred to her. "Did you get the money?"
A change was apparent in the manner of Brainard.
"No, Anna," he replied, with assumed calmness.
"Do you want it badly?"
"Yes, dear. I have four hundred dollars due in the bank to-day, and
every effort to obtain the sum has failed."
"What if I lend it to you?" said the young wife, looking archly into his
troubled face.
"You!" he exclaimed, quickly.
"Yes, me. Would you take it as a very great favour?"
"The greatest you could do me just at this time!"
"Very well; here is the money."
And Anna drew a purse of gold from her pocket, and held it before his
eyes.
"Anna! What does this mean?"
And Brainard reached his hand to grasp the welcome treasure. But she
drew it away quickly, saying, as she did so,--
"Certain conditions must go with the loan."
"Name them," was promptly answered by the husband, into whose face
the sunshine had already come back.
"One is, that you are not to be angry with me for any thing that I have
done to-day."
"What have you done?"

And Brainard glanced around the room with an awakened suspicion.
"I want your promise first."
"You have it."
"But mind you, I am in earnest," said Anna.
"So am I. Now make your confession."
"I sold the piano."
"What?"
There was an instant change in the expression of Brainard's face.
"Your promise. Remember," said Anna, in a warning voice.
"Sold the piano!"
And he walked into the next room, Anna moving by his side.
"Yes, I sold it to Mrs. Aiken for four hundred dollars. I