The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-07-17

right or Wrong-nOw,1 said Aunt De-
sire, expressing, in one comprehensive
sniff, some scorn and considerable SYM
pathy. So she went on with her telling,
while the lovers walked up and down
outside, till it grew too dark even for
plain seams, and Margaret came down
to call Laura from the fragrant dusk of
the porch, where the night air was get
ting heavy and damp.
Margaret and Laura Brooks were or
They had not always been poor, for
their father had been well-to-do fem
er, whose crops and cattle had brought
him in good income. But series of
misfortunes eliminated in his death,
when it was found that Encouragement
and loose business method had so in
yolved the comfortable property, that
SO far from there being any thing laid
by for a rainy day, the most of the es-
tate had to be sold to satisfy the credi-
tors. Margaret was thus left with the
house and little piece of land where
with to support herself and the young
sister left in her charge. Nobody but
Margaret ever could have managed it,
said Aunt Desire-Aunt Desire, who
knew all about the little household and
its ways and means, and who had, in
fact, been prime minister of that soyer-
eign whom she delighted to honor, for
near half score of years. For it was
when Margaret was left a motherless
girl of fourteen that Desire Mallory had
entered the Brooks family, to supple
ment with her experience the cares and
pains of its slender young housekeeper.
From that time she had remained
through all the years and vicissitudes
that followed, more loved and trusted
constantly, till she had become rather
the companion than the servant, in fact
just "Aunt Desire" as she was always
called. When Farmer Brooks died,
Aunt Desire absolutely refused to go
with the other "help," SO that Margaret
was forced, whether or not, to form a
partnership for carrying on the little
place, in which Aunt Desire was the Co.
And a very efficient partner she proved,
as thoroughly capable Yankee woman,
who understood almost every sort of
work, from the labors of the garden and
dairy to the cares of the house and the
mysteries of the needle. SO that be-
tween them they evolved considerable
degree of comfort from very small ma
terials, and the four or five years sue
ceeding the death of Mr.. Brooks were
happy ones in spite of bereavement and
struggle.
At nineteen came the great trial of
Margaret's young womanhood. Her
sailor lover, as brave and honest fell
low as ever sailed blue water, went
down on his last voyage, ship and crew
and Captain lost, and never heard of
more. Nothing was left to tell the tale
but some wave-beaten fragments picked
up by another vessel on a far-away
tropic shore, and recognized as belong
ing to the unfortunate Petrol. 1t was
then, above all, when the tidingsreached
the little New England town where the
promised wife of the wrecked sailor sat
happy over her work, waiting for the
ship that never would come back, that
Aunt Desire proved her right to the title
of friend accorded her. No one but
Margaret ever would know what depths
of sympathy and thoughtful tenderness
lay hidden beneath that commonplace
seeming, as none but Aunt Desire would
ever know in what bitter need of such
ministrations Margaret stood. Reserved
and quiet, she went through her consci-
entious round of daily duties, betrayipg
to the ordinary eye but little of the suf-
fering which tortured her life, until
months of patient struggle had lived it
down. She put self aside, and taking
another affection into the vacant place
in her heart, devoted herself entirely to
her little sister. The child was delicate
and capricious, and needed a guidance
no less strong than loving. Such she
had found in Margaret, under whose al
most maternal care she had thriven, un-
til now at eighteen she was, as her Aunt
Desire had said, the very picture of her
sister at the same age. But Laura's
girlhood was to have happier fate than
Margaret's, for she was soon to be mar
ried to one whom she loved, a man in
every respect an excellent match for
her. To prepare suitably for this mar
riage, which in worldly point was
above what Laura's prospects would
warrant, Margaret with natural feel
ing was straining her small resources to
their utmost. And now, as browning
sacrifice, she had given the girl her own
wedding-dress the robe that was to have
been the sign of such happiness and
hopes fulfilled, that had been, instead,
the token of So many pains and disap-
pointments and sorrows brayely borne
And Laura took it with a tear that end
ed in smile, not realizing, in her yet
untroubled heart, all the strong pathos
of the story that lay wrapped in those
shining folds.
The next day after the gift witnessed
the cutting off the breaths of the we'd
ding-dress SO OPPORTUNITY come to light.
Aunt Desire fairly groaned as the scis-
sors ran through the silken folds,
whether for sad associations or because
of the sin of cutting up such costly ma
terial was not plain. Laura's eyes
sparkled, as one by one the rich lengths
rustled down on the sheet spread out
for the purpose. Naturally it was a
great occasion to her. She would
scarcely let any one else touch the dress,
and vowed that she would set every
stitch in it with her own hand, which
she was able to do, since, thanks to her
sisters careful teaching, she was an
adept in the intricacies of needlework.
"Now go away, Aunt Desire" she
old