The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1872-12-21


the door open, 90 you will not feel Lonely
land get the supper ready"
Always gently submissive, Mrs. Grier
son let her daughter arrange her cornfof
taDIy, and accepted her share Of he ffu-
gal supper. She was sleeping calmly
when Hannah stole from the house, ori
10 the rogIng storm, with bundle undel
her arm. N'''~'
Barbara Wilcox sat In her bedroom, Il
save fire In the drawing .rooom, and sewed
diligently upon q heavy cloth cloak
to save dressmaker's bills al around
her were evidences Of wealth and
pInching economy. The large house Wal
superbly furnished when Hiram Wilcox
carried his bride there, and the tokens 81
his lavish outlay still fingered ihthe well
preserved furniture, the gorgeous Garrett
closely covered, and the articles OF luxu-
y, worn and old-fashioned, but carefully
preserved and protected. One servant
DID the necessary homework for the Old
lazy, and twice year another hired vo.
man helped 10 clean the house and shut II
up again. Only the rooms required u
sleep, eat, and cook In were kept open
and here, lonely and almost frieudiess
the old woman spent her dreary DAYS.
Friends who might have visited her were
kept away studiously, for It was expensive
70 entertain company. With an annually
increasing bank account, already Of vast
proportion for the maintenance of one
woman, Barbara Wilcox worked early
and late 10 save money. This was the
one object Of her sofdid soul. Every
stitch Of her own sewing she set herself;
hre and light, food and clothing, were as
carefully and scantily supplied as II the
busy needle was actually the sole source
OF income.
Stitching busily, her gray head bent
over the heavy cloth, her wrinkled hands
sui nervous and active, Barbara Wilcox,
In her shabby dress, with her scaut fire
and feeble light, was the very picture Of o
starving seamstress, q aliRht hacking
cough adding to the effect. she was stiil
busy, when some one knocked at the
door. Always in fear ofrobbery or muir
der, she glanced nervouSly OF the clock be.
fore speaking. Somewhat treasured by
seeing that It was not yet eight O'clock,
she said: Come in" and Hannah Grier.
son, wrapped in waterproof cloak, an
swerel the summons.
Her reception was chilling enough 10
have daunted more timid woman. Her
aunt, looking at her coldly, with no shade
OF recognition or welcome in her stern
blue eyes, said:-
well, what do you wsntT
u want to show you a piece Of work.
Aunt Barbara, that l made to sell, but
our class Of customers do not indulge In
luxuries." An unfortunate speech.
"Luxuries r. snapped the old woman.
"Do indulge in Injuries? Who works
harder or lives more economically than
do :"
"But il you choose, Aunt Barbara"-
Yes, yes! That's the cry TOR poor re.
lations. shall die in the almshouse vet.
You've come for money, Of course. Mon.
ey! Money! Anybody would suppose /
was made OF money. How much have
lent you already"
u pay the interest punctually, Aunt
Barbara" 49, Dis -
"And il you were to die, where would
l get my money AGAIN. I'm only a wo.
man. l don't know how to use my money
as my husband did. I cannot invest. and
speculate with it, and turn one dollar into
a hundred, or even two dollars. All can
do Is 10 save, and how am / to save II l
have 10 support all my relatives"
" will pay you back, Aunt Barbara.
You will look at my work. Imeant to
ask twenty dollars for It"
Twenty dollars!" shrieked the old Wo-
man, as Hannah unfolded the embroider.
ed table.Cloth. "Where am l to get
twenty dollars for such piece OF tom.
ioolery as this2"
THAT was what wanted to get for it,
but II you will pay me the price Of the
materials, | will BIO satisfied. They cost
twelve dollars"
Twelve dollars No wonder you are
poor. Twelve dollars for silks and zephyrs!
They were bought before father died"
"Humph No wonder he left his fam
lily in beggary. III give you eight dollars
Tor that piece Of foolishness-n0t another
penny. 1t cost you nothing now but your
labor 81, -
So the hard bargain was closed, and
Hannah Grierson lett the cold, stern rel
alive, to battle the storm again. One
more visit she made, and pawned few
trihes OF silver to make up the money Tor
the rent. Then she sped homeward, and
entered the little, bedroom. Her mother
was still sleeping; but bending over her
for a kiss, Hannah Grierson touched lips
smiling in the sleep that wakens not
again on earth.
will attempt no description Of the
desolate griet Of the orphan. Aunt Bar
bara, for very shame, buried her sister.iu.
law, and took her niece home; when the
apathy of sorrow made her indifferent as
to where she was carried.
Once an intimate Of her aunt's house,
Hannah was found too useful servant to
be lightly given up, and a few months Ia.
ter illness made Barbara Wilcox only too
thankful TO have secured conscientious
nurse and housekeeper.
The weary months passed until Christ
mas drawing near for the second time
since Mrs Grierson's death.
In the drawing. room Of Mrs. Wilcox's
large house two young girls are seated
sewing. One Is our old friend Hannah,
the other niece OF her mothers, young
orphan, whom she has taken heme for q
companion and friend.
Three months before, Barbara Wilcox
had died, leaving no will, and her niece,
being her only living relative, was sud-
denly raised IRON q lie Of bitterest de-
pendence to tho sole, undisputed posses
sion OF wealth that fairly frightened her
by Its extent.
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