Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1881-07-30

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deemed her frcm absolute plainness
since she had not good feature in he
face; her gray eyes even being smal
and fringed with sandy lashes. Sh
made no secret of her vexation at th
accident, while fully admitting that i
had been caused by her own careless
ness.
Z" 1t is such a shame" she said; 6"
was looking forward to a pleasant tim,
at Aunt Margaret's. 1t is a jolly hous,
to stay at, and am very seldom allowed
to go there. Papa and Aunt Susan hav,
some prejudice against my cousins. Nj
cousins are the prettiest and incest girl
L ever saw. AS Shaw says, it would b,
well for me to be like them"
went on to tell Violet of the letter
had written to her aunt, and the invita-.
tion contained there in.
4" She will not come" said Violet, de.
cidedly. My father could not possibly
spare her. He has been very i'll lately,
and no one understands his ways but
Aunt Susan. She will be frettiEg about
me, though. wish 1 could write just
one line to tell her what good care Miss
Ellison takes of me. must be an awful
nuisance both to you and to her."
"Do not imagine such a thing for q
moment. My sister likes nothing better
than the care of a sick person: in fact,
1t Is her true vocation. [ will write
again to your aunt and tell her, from
you, that you are content with your
quarters here, and that you mean to get
well as fast as possible. Will that do?"
"Thank you," she answered; care
You certain that shall get well?"
I" As certain rs 1 can be of anything
in this world You surely did not i'm
agine that your accident was a serious
one?"
"Well, I did hope that it was of some
little consequence; it is too bad to have
all the pain and none of the prestige of
n railway accident"
There is nothing to be proud of in
an accident caused by ones own care
lessness," said my sister, severely.
"Well," said Violet, Ct certainly
would rather suffer from my own care
lessness than from any one else's.
never bear malice toward myself.
Aunt Susan's letter came in due time.
As Violet had predicted, Miss Ferrars
declined our invitation, saying that it
would be impossible for her to leave her
brother who was recovering from
a severe illness, but that she felt no
hesitation in trusting her niece to us !;
having heard of my very great skill
in surgical cases.
This latter sentence somewhat bewil-
dered me. Could it be possible, l asked
myself, that Miss Ferrars had heard of
that successful operation performed by
me in the county infrmary? II GER
tainly had been mentioned in some of
the medical journals, but then medical
journals is hardly the sort OF literature
one expects to find in a country parsou-
age. Any way it was gratifying to he
thus appreciated. Strange to say. the
obvious explanation-thatM Miss Ferrars
was mistaking me for my uncle, whose
namesake and successor / was, and who
had been a man of undouLted ability
and a certain local reputation-never
once occurred to me.
A letter had come, directed in the
same handwriting to Miss Violet, to
whom sent it up. On going little
later to pay her my professional visit,
found her still reading and laughing
over it.
"You seem to have an amusing let
ter" said.
"Aunt Susan's letters generally are
amusing" answered Violet, "but this is
from an unusual cause-a mistake on
her part. l cannot explain it to you,
but it is very funny"
Perceivlng that the mistake was in
some way connected with myself, I
asked no further questions, and to
change the subject took up the cover
of Miss Ferrar's letter, which lay upon
the bed.
"What a fine hand your aunt
writes - I said.
"She does everything well that she
undertakes, and she undertakes a great
many things. She is papa's right hand
as good as another curate, she says,
She plays the organ and trains the
choir at church, and she teaches me-"
lyon consider yourself a decided
success, then, Miss Violet ?"
"You need not laugh" she said, in a
dignified tone. "You think that, be-
cause am ugly and awkward, l am ig-
norant also; but am not. took a
high place at the Cambridge Local Ex-
aminations last year, because was well
prepared. Aunt Susan has a real genius
for teaching"
There was evidently nothing of per-
sonal vanity in this boast, the object of
which was solely to exalt her teacher.
care you like your aunt ?" 1 asked.
"Not bit. l wish were. L am a
caricature of my mother, who died
when was six years old. Would you
like to see Aunt Susan's photograph :?
Shaw, will you find my little tin box :?
Is't somewhere in my trunk, think. 1"
81 know where it is, miss, seeing that
twas packed it. 'Tis well you've
somebody that knows where your things
are, Miss Violet"
Mrs. Shaw brought the box-a small
tin one, filled with regular schoolboy
collection of odds and ends, which had
to be removed before the photograph
could be found.
" wonder" said I, as / stood await
ing the conclusion of this process, " if
the educational system of the present
day, with all its advantages, will pro-
duce many women as really able and
cultivated as some of those who belong
to former generation-women like
your aunt, for instance"
Violet, who had by this time found
the bundle of photographs, paused
with it in her hand, and gave me a
quick, induirinP look. Then. selecting