Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-11-17
Calls aud SketeItss.
AUNT RHODANTHE'S MISTAKE.

The girl looks out OF the window dream
lily.
81 don't know she says. The days
are so long that it is hard to fill them all
up
She means the literal day, the long
bright days of July; but Aunt Rhodanthe
suspects a hidden meaning, and snaps
her up.
1.-The days are so long now!' And
since when are they so long, prayP Since
Ralph Domer proved himself villain,
like his father before him P"
"Aunt Rhodanthe, what do you mean p"
Bessie says, desperately. why do you
keep harpiDg on Ralph Dormerp And
what did his father do, that it should be
brought up against Ralph Dormer now p
Miss Rhodanthe huns little tune and
drums thoughtfully upon the table for
moment before she speaks. Then she
says.
Never mind now, Bessie. Perhaps
III tell you some time. and perhaps not.
1t is more to the purpose now to ill up
your day for you. Do you sing and playP
Do you sketch ?r
"1es, Aunt Rhodanthe; "but Just re-
member that have been daily governess
all winter, and | am so sick of the things
that l have been trying to grind into stu
pid children. Do let me have rest from
them."
Bessie Woodward" Miss Rhodanthe
says sternly, "is there one individual
thing in which you take an interest,"
real vital interest, l mean-enough to
make you forget yourself and every body
else for while might have known it.
Who expects modern young lady to take
vital interest in any thing but her dress
and her flrtations Well, as YOU have no
interests, duties may do as well, and we
must find them for YOU"
Miss Rhodanthe says no more at the
time, but leaves Bessie to idle away the
day as she will. Miss Rhodanthe does not
idle away her days, as Bessie we'll knows.
Incidence Miss Rhodanthe held to be the
parent of all vices and folies. To be hap
py, be busy, is Miss Rhodanthe's motto,
and well does she carry it out. 1t tires
Bessie to watch her at first, as, in her
high boots and broad hat, she tramps
about the farm, directing, overseeing,
scolding, encouraging. as the case may re-
quire. No wonder, thinks Bessie, that
her farm is the most productive, her
house the best ordered, her maids and
workmen the most industrious, in the
neighborhood. No wonder that Miss Ro-
danthe's eye has grown keen and her
tongue sharp in the course of sixty years,
If all OF them have been like this. And
yet there Is soft spot in her heart, too,
Bessie concludes, when she finds that all
of Aunt Rhodanthe's tramps have not
business for their sole object. Charity has
its place in her scheme of life,. and her
face is well known in all the houses of the
poor in her vicinity. Gradually Bessie
grows ashamed of her idle, purposeless
life in contrast with Miss Rhodanthe's per-
petual energy, and it is not long before
she has begun to accompany her aunt in
her charitable expeditions. At first she is
actuated only by sense of duty, but soon
she begins to take an interest in Aunt Ro-
danthe's pensioners for their own sakes,
and by degrees she slips into the position
of sole messenger and aimoner. Miss
Rhodanthe says nothing, but, if we can
Judge from her looks, she is satisfied that
the moral iron and qunine have been
found. f.
Bessie has her favorites among Miss Rho
danthe's pensioners, and her visits to the
little brown cottage tenanted by rheumat-
ic old Hannah Lowe and her rosy, tod
ding grandchild are perhaps lenger and
more frequent than to the others. She
has staid later than usual in the cottage
on this special evening. The child is sick,
and the doctor, for whom Bessie has sent
has not yet come, and she waits to hear
his decision. A step on the broad stone
outside of the door announces his arrival.
Why does Bessie start, and why does that
bright flush leap up over her face at the
soundP II is not the heavy tread of old
DR.. White that she hears; but what then?
What thenp Why, only that she knows,
when she hears the first tones of the new
comer's voice. that neither ear nor heart
has played her false. The step was Ralph
Dormer's step, and the voice is Ralph
Dormer's voice. and Bessie shrinks back
into the farthest and darkest corner as he
enters.
DIR. White is tired, and has sent Ralph,
who, it appears, is his guest at present, in
his stead. Hannah Lowe looks at him
doubttully. He is too young to inspire
her with confidence, though bis face wears
the air of true professional gravity as he
bends over the child, and inquiries into its
symptoms. Hannah Lowe appeals to Bes-
sic, who shrnks deeper into her corner
with a frightened murmur The doctor
shadows; but Bessie sees him clearly
sees the frank blue eyes and the broad
white forhead and the brown curling hair,
which she knows so WE'LL sees, too. an
expression which is new to her, which
used not to be upon Ralph Dormer's face
the look of one who has suffered. But
what can Ralph Dormer have sufferedp
she wonders.
He goes at last. The child is not seri-
ously ill-some tritiing childish ailment;
and Bessie can leave her corner, and bur-
ry home through the gathering twilight,
with strange tight feeling about her
heart, and a look in her eyes which leads
Aunt Rhodanthe to inquire wonderingly
whether she has seen a ghost. No. Bes-
sic has seen no ghost, and she does not
think 1t worth while to say that she has
seen Ralph Dormer.
Z Two or three days have passed, during
which Bessie has not again seen Ralph.
Then, enc afternoon, as she is returning
home, she meets DIR. White. Bessie is a
special favorite of the bluff, genial old
Doctors, and he turns and walks with her
now. Soon he begins to speak of anoth-
er fayortte of his Ralph Dormer---speaks