The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1863-01-02
fret yourself for nothing. The speck can be


swered Phebe, tossing her head indifferently
And even if believed in the worst, I'd find
more comfort in laughing than in crying. =
And she ran of to her own room.
Poor Mrs. Caldwell sat down to brood
over this new trouble; and as she brooded'
fancy wrought for her the most unpleasing
images. She saw the beauty of Phebe, q
few years later in life, most sadly marred by
broken or discolored teeth. Looking at that,
and that alone, magnifed itself into calam.
ity-grew to an evil that overshadowcd
everything.
She was still tormenting herself about the
prospect of the loss of Phebe's teeth, when
in passing through her elegantly furnished
parlor, her eyes fell on pale acid stain,
about the size of shilling piece, on one Of
the rich figures in the carpet. The color Of
this figure was maroon, and the stain, in
consequence, distinct-at least it became
very distinct to her eyes as they dwelt upon
it, as il held there by kind of fascination.
Indeed, for awhile, Mrs. Caldwell could see
nothing else but this spot on the carpet; no.
not even though she turned her eyes in vari-
Gus directions, the retina keeping that image
to the exclusion of all Others.
While yet in the gall Of this new bitter
ness, Mrs. Caldwell heard carriage stop in
front of the house, and, glancipg through
the window. saw that it was on the opposite
side of the street. She knew it to be the
carriage of lady whose rank made her favor
u desirable thing to all who were emulous Of
social distinction. To be OF her set was a
coveted honor. For her friend and neighbor
opposite, Mrs. Caldwell did not feel the
highest regard; and it rather hurt her to
see the FIRST call made in that quarter, instead
of upon herself. 1t was no very agreeable
thought that this lady, queen of the fashion,
so much courted and regarded, might really
think most highly Of her neighbor opposite.
To be second to her, touched the quick OF
pride, and hurt.
Only card was left. Then the lady re-
entered her carriage. What? Driving a.
way? Even so. Mrs. Caldwell was not
even honored by q call. This was pcnetrat-
ing the quick. What tcould it mean? Was
she to be ruled out of this lady's set? The
thought was like a wounding arrow to her
soul.
Unhappy Mrs. Caldwell. Her daughters
careless habits, the warning sign of decay
among her pearly teeth, the stain on a
beautiful carpet, and worse than all as a
pain givcr, this slight from magnate Of
fashion, were not these enough to cast q
gloom over the state Of woman who had
everything toward happiness that wealth
and social station could give, but did not
know how to extract from them the blessings
they had the power to bestow. Slowly and
with oppressed feelings, she left the parlors
and went up stairs. Half an hour later, as
she sat alone, engaged in the miserable work
OF weaving out Of the lightest material a
very pail of shadows for her soul, servant
came to the door and announced visitor
Ii was an intimate friend whom she could
not refuse to sea lady named Mrs. Bland.
How are you, Mrs. Caldwell?' said the
visitor, as the two ladies met.
Miserable, was answered. And not even
the ghost OF smile played over the unhap-
py face.
Are you sick?' asked Mrs. Bland.
NO, not exactly sick. But, somehow or
other, I'm in worry about things all the
while. can't move a step in any direction
without coming against the 'pricks.' II
seems as though all things were conspiring
against me-
And then Mrs. Caldwell went, with her
friend, through the whole series OF her MORN
ing troubles, ending with the sentence -
Now don't you think l am boset? Why,
Mrs. Bland, I'm in purgatory'
a purgatory of your own creating, my
friend answered Mrs. Bland, with the plain.
ness Of speech warranted by the intimacy Of
their friendship; 'and my advice is to come
out of it as quickly as possible
Come out of it That is easily said.-
Will you show me the way?'
AT some other time, perhaps. But this
morning have something else on hand.-
I've called for you to go with me on an er.
rand of mercy
There was no Christian response in the
face Of Mrs. Caldwell. She was too deep
amid the gloom of her own wretched state to
have sympathy for Others.
MARY Brady is in trouble, said Mrs.
Bland.
What has happenedr Mrs. Caldwell
was alive with interest in moment.
Her husband fell through hatchway
yesterday, and came near being killed.
Mrs. Bland!'
The escape was miraculous
'Is he badly injuredy
"A leg and two ribs broken. Nothing
more, believe. But that is very serious
thing; especially wherc the mans labor is
his family's sole dependence
.Poor Mary said Mrs. Caldwell, in real
sympathy. in what dreadful state sho
must be. pity her from the bottom of my
heart