The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1883-10-12
SELECT STORY.
THE YOUNG WIDOW.
by HELEN FORREST GRAVES.


that day, as she sat at the breakfast
table pouring coffee for her husband,
and dispensing bread and butter to the
three plump little Piercys. She was
handsome, over dressed woman, with
good deal of false hair, frizzed and
puffed and braided on the top of her
head and complexion that bore re-
mote witness to the constant use of
cosmetics. And Mr.. Piercy, at his end
of the table, was evidently i'll at ease as
he broke his egg and nibbled diligently
at his roll
"But what was I to do, my dear p
said he, after brief silence, which was
by no means peaceful.
"Do?' shrilly retorted Mrs. Percy.
"Why, what do other people do? Are
we to keep a home for the INDECENT
poor? Or refuge for the widowed
and fatherless7'
my dear, my dear," pleaded Mr..
Percy, who was a small man, with thin
hair aud spectacles, "you may be a
widow yourself some day
"And if I am l shall not 90 begging
among my relatives, that you may de-
pend on said Mrs. Piercy. Sand,
after all, she isn't any relative of yours
only your brothers wife! I'd like to
know what earthly claim she has upon
you l declare, the more think of it
the more I am amazed at the woman s
p. esumption. Her very name is an
aggrs vation, too. plume Percy in
deed. I'll wager my new lace pin that
she was second,rate actress when she
married your brother. No, Mr.. Piercy,
if you think that /"
| But here the torrent of the lady g
eloquence was cut short by the unex-
peoted appearance on the scene of the
very subject of her objurgation-a tall,
pretty woman of about four-and-
twenty, whose wavy golden tresses and
delicately fair complexion con1rasted
vividly with the deep mourning weeds
she wore.
"A veil down to her feet" mentally
calculated Mira. Abel Piercy. "And q
six-inch band of the very best Court
land crepe on her gown. l wonder
who's expected to pay for allthis ?"
| Abel Piercy, the kindest hearted Of
little mel, welcomed his brothers
widow with genuine hospitality, but
Matilda, his wife, looked askance al
her, with no friendly smile upon hel
countenance.
| "Of course you will consider this
your home," said Mr.. Piercy, as he
made haste to draw chair close to thu
fire.
| "Until you are able to suit yourself
somewhere else" crisply aGded hi
wife.
| The widow said little, she only look
ed, with large, wistful eyes, from ont
to the other, as she sat there, the morn
ing sunshine turning her fair locks t.
braided masses Of gold, the pearly deli
cacy of her skin arousing the livelies
envy in Mr.. Abel's heart.
Though, of course, it's only SOM
French balm or Circassian cream O
other, that haven't heard OF" said sh
TO herself.
But after Mr.. Piercy had buttone,
on his overcoat and gloves he cam
back to the breakfast room, while hi
wife was putting up the children
school lunches in the pantry.
"Im not much of a talker, Plume,
said he, in an odd, hesitating way
but you are welcome, my dear-ver
welcome, And l hope you will try t
feel at home. Don't mind Matilda
just at first. She's a little peculiar
Matilda is, but l do assure you she
"Mr. Piercy !" uttered a sharp war;
ing voice, at this instant, from tn
threshold, sis it possible that yo
haven't started yet? And you kno,
how particular Bulge IL Bodley are {
to your getting to the store at o pr
cisely."
Mr.. Piercy turned pink all over
"Yes, my dear--yes, said he, III
quite sure to be in time !"
And off he started on a gentle tro
When he was gone, Plume took O
her bonnet and veil, removed h
mantle and gloves, and went into Il
kitchen.
Cannot / do something to help yo
sister Matilda ?" said she, pleadingly.
Mrs. Abel Piercy looked, with co
blue eyes and lips primly compresse
at the fair face, which was younger al
fresher than eyer without the jet bla'
circlet of the bonnet, and the sligl
graceful figure before her.
= "No, thank you" said she; 81 a
not used to have fine ladies in n
kitchen
"But if you will lend me an apron
"No, ! thank you, Mrs, Oswa
Pieroy T. repeated the housewife "Y
will find the newspaper in the hl
: Perhaps the advertising columns m
" interest you,
"We are sisters" said the you
widow, with a quivering lip. "W
you not call me Plume"
'Oh. no. we're no relations nj all