Daily globe., 1879-02-09

| to care tor me. 1 need some strong
active young person daily and hourly
Send me niece. She shall be paid fo
her trouble, suppose you consider
them all paragons; but beauty is not in
dispensible. Honesty and good moral!
are. Let me know at once. Your ODE
| dient servant, RUTH RUsHToN,
"of the 'Pines,' Kent"
''What an insult" said Edith. "Hor
rible old woman! After all these year!
Of neglect, she would now make a maid
servant Of us. I shall not go.'
Then Caroline delivered the address a.
the beginning of my story.
"Poor nanny picked the padding
from the back OF the stuffed chair like g
bird pecking at barley; all the time q
cloud creeping over her pale face.
mo; Of course you'll neither of you 60
after this letter; but it seems like flying
in the face of Providence to refuse. 1t is
not like going out to service, you know,
after all. The coming wiuter Will be
very hard on me, and / can't see my way
out very clearly. There's Agnes-we
might let her go; although I should miss
her sadly. And she has not decent
gown to go in. Her next quarter will
not be due for long time VET
"What does it matter?" 1 said at last,
my heart filed with bitterness. 81 should
not be expected to dress greatly. / am
ready to go just as am
"Oh, 1 dare say" said Caro-, in high
disdain. "Playlng Cinderella is quite in
your ike; but there's to be no goumother
nor prince in the story. You're going to
drudge and slave for hideous old tyrant,
and wear her ridiculous fnery for pay.
But anything for an excuse to leave the
drudgery here to Edith and I, you un-
grateful thing!"
1--we done it all my life uncomplain-
ingly." plucked up spirit to say, con-
fdent it would not help my case. how
ever.
"Don't quarrel row, just before separat-
ing" said poor nanny, almost sternly.
And 50 it was settled that I should
leave home; the letter was posted to my
hard aunt, who was to look for me Tues
day fortnight, some little time being
allowed for my preparations. These were
ridiculously simple. My few things were
to be "gotten up" as the clear. starchers
say, and turned changeable silk gown
of mammY's the snEfy side out, and
could have weptt at the thought of how I
should look in it. This, and my old
black, and one or two prints, were what I
packed in my mean little trunk, with
many soDs and tears at bidding farewell
to poor nanny, who cried so bitterly,
her thin arms wound about my neck, as
if all her poor heart left her by misfortune
was bursting in twain.
"Good"bye, nanny darling, I shall
write often, and if there are any earnings
they shall come to you"
'One would think that Agnes were on
the eve Of starting to America, sneered
Edith, shaking my hand coldly, and Civ.
ing me datby kiss on my tear stained
check.
Oh, never knew what a dear little
dun colored home it was, until I had
turned my back upon it in the chill Sep
tember rain.
A gray-haired servitor, in gray stock
ings and rusty small clothes, met me at
the station, with an ancient affair on four
wheels, drawn by an animal not at all
unlike the solemn old man. who said his
name was Dark, and whom shocked un-
utterably by calling HIM Mr.. Dark.
I had plenty of time for reflection as
we left the highway, turning up through
an avenue of paternal hemlocks, to the
no less torbidding old house, with a
quantity of wings and windows, ram
bling porch at the side, ana one or two
statues on the terraces ali soggy with
rain, 'and Uttered over with droppings
from the pines, whose funeral branches
had for years kept the sunshine from that
gloomy portal.
A staid, elderly woman, in a respect
able silk gown, met me at the door with
the intelligence that my aunt was quite
put about at having kept the tea waiting
quarter of an hour, which I accepted
as an omen of a bad beginning.
She was already sitting at the head of
the table in the dining -room-a gaunt
apartment, with high ceiling, heavy
mahogany furniture. and tall silver can
dlesticks.
A pallid old woman, with snow-white
hair and burning black eyes, with all
their old fire still smoldering in their
depths.
She held out one hand, shrouded in a
black lace mitten.
"Come here! And so you are my
niece? But you are no Rushton. She
has sent me the plainest one, of course.
Well, l cursed your mother tor her
beauty years ago. I am glad I shall not
be reminded OF it in you. Sit down
there, at the foot, don't Keep me waiting.
Hand her the tray, Stevens
The pale, ghostly glimmer Of the wax
lights on the Rushton plate, the whis-
pering Of the wind in those gloomy
trees, the rustic or the silk gown as Stev-
ems came and went between my new
mistress and L, taken with the strange
ness Of the situation, and the remem-
berancc Of poor little mammy's fearful
speeches, and the plaintive song of the
robin, deprived me OF all appetite, and
I only minced at the carrant lam and
biscuit.
Stevens cleared away the things, leav.
ing the cloth and the candles, and
standing at the back of Miss Rushton's
chair--I could not accept her offhand as
an aunt-she wheeled her nearer tho
light. My aunt was paralytic then.
! In spite of that hard face and those
fierce eyes. sudden, strange pity filled
me. How hard it must have been, hoy
hard for one in whose veins still flowed
the wild current of the Rushton blood.
| She beckoned me to her side imDa
tiently.
81 want to say, Agnes, that if you
mother sent you here thinking to max
much of it, she is mistaken. I take 70,
into my service as would any worth,
and disinterested young person. I shai
pay you your wages quarterly, $40 pc
year and your living, which is all yo
will be worth, and I do not intend t
add one pound or nrOmise, anu favor