The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1881-07-13
GRACE's DESK.

Margaret looked up from her sewing
machine for minute to glance across
ting at the Window round, graceful
little figure, whose attitude of thought
ful gravity was full of suggestion.
And then Margaret, always more or
less crusty, but kind-hearted, gave an
impatient sigh and increased the speed
of her machine by savage motion of
her slippered feet, and compressed her
lips and puckered her forehead all up
in a perfect nest of wrinkles while
Grace, unconscious of it, sat looking
out of the window at the gloomy pros
pect- half-melted, dirty, slushy-brown
snow that was rapidly growing slushier
and more melted under the drizzling
rain that was falling and, of course,
thinking about Laurie Marcellus.
For several months Grace had not
thought of much else but him, and yet
there had not been an hour or a mo-
ment of that time that she had not tried
not to think of him and grieve for him.
1t had been very similar to the same
old story. Laurie Marcellus, handsome,
elegant, aristocratic, fairly well-to-do in
the worlds estimation of riches, had
been Grace Warrener's most devoted for
several months, until by one of those
venomous waves of fortunes wand social
position and wealth had suddenly van
ished, and the Warrener girls found
themselves obliged to take in dress
making for living.
Friends who had always been friends,
who redeemed the dear name, who knew
them for what they were worth, did not
desert them +; but first and foremost in
the ranks of those who so conveniently
preferred to dispense with the society
of the two dressmakers who lived in
Appledore row was Mr.. Laurie Marcel
lus.
He had dropped out of Grace's life as
brilliant comet disappears from the
sky. He had called one evening, the
same as ever, with the sweet, caressing
tenderness in his voice-the glad, eager
light in his handsome eyes-that made
the girls heart spring within her; and
she had never seen him since nor
heard from him.
That very next day the crash came,
through which the great spice house OF
Warrener & Gray suspended; and q
month later Caleb Warrener died with
apoplexy, and as soon as decency per.
mitted the splendid mansion and furni
ture, the horses and carriages, the sill
yer and jewels, all were sold under the
red flag.
Margaret came grandly to the fore il
those dark days, when her keenest griet
was to witness little Grace's dismay and
astonishment and suffering at Laurie
Marcellus' detection; and yet her words
were usually more bitter and sarcastic
than gentle-it was Margaret Warren
er's way to use heroic treatment.
} "He's not worth the everlasting fuss
you make about him, Grace. Tn
ashamed of you-downright ashamed
and he not your betrothed, either"
: That was true, so far as formal words
Z went. Laurie Marcellus had nevel
} asked Grace Warrener to be his wife
he had never in so many words told he
, he loved her; but he had known Just a.
J well as he had known he was alive how
4 the girls heart was all his own-hov
she loved him dearly and truly, for al
her sweet reserve.
Grace smiled family when Margare
a spoke of the "fuss" she made abou
3 him. She knew we'll enough that tn
t "fuss was only her grave, sad face
p her quiet ways, her listless manner
that she tried desperately hard to con
quer, and in all the months that ha,
q passed had not succeeded, and SCENE,
t no nearer succeeding than in the be
y ginning-so nearly hopeless task is
!. for woman to cozquer thoughts an
heartsick longings for the man sh
loves. Pride and shame may do valian
d battle for the victory, but pride an
d shame are baby foes in comparison wit
e the giant they oppose-woman's strong
enduring love for her chosen beloved
r. And so the dreary time went on fc
=. Grace, and by steady, persistent effol
II she disallowed herself to be dull {
4 complaining, or a kill-joy. She resC
q lutely determined to at least be chez
g. full and patient outwardly, no matte
Is what the inward commotion. And t,
L day-this cheerless January day-sh
1t had only given a momentary rein to he
s. thoughts, enough to make her lay dow
her sewing and lean her head againi
N the window, and wish she might nev,
I have known the sweetness of Laur
L Marcellus' love.
d Until the unusual whirring of Il
ir sewing machine wheel made her AVA
IS that Margaret had observed her aud vi
ir displeased. SO, with a little, despera
n effort, she forced herself back to Il
n basting Of the satin fold in her work.
II was thinking about that auetiC