The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1883-01-13

Dlu 90 rlSnC
II am inclined to think you die" was
my reply. "Best to have the strangenes'
over as soon as possible"
'But there's one thing I'm sure yol
won't like, - said Mary, after brief 81
lence.
"Well, what's that ?" [ asked.
"She wears spectacles."
"HorrOr y was my rejolnder.
''Blue ones"
'Worse and worseI'
II knew Just how you would feel; bu
she had very pleasant eyes under them an(
she thinks she may soon be able to dispens'
with them altogether.
''Then I will endeavor to endure th'
affliction with the best grace [ can. How
does she look ?"
''That's woman's question, and | shan
answer" said my wife, laughing. Glow
ever [ will say that she is tall and fair
with blue eyes, blue dress, and blue veil.
'Blue seems to be the prevailing color,
| said, and there the conversation stopped
tea being brought in.
On the following day | came home tc
company. In other words, | was intro
duced to Miss Campsted, and by stealth
took an inventory of her charms, for the
lady was good looking. She wore small
plain cap, and the blue spectacles aforesaid
The hair put smoothly back, showed rip.
pies on the surface; the features were small
and regular, but at first [ was not pleased
with their expression, though [ could not
have told why.
The dominant thought with me was that
Mary could rest, and, with a mind wholly
at case, give herself up to the care Of her
little ones for a season.
For few weeks things went on as
smoothly as [ could desire. The coffee
speedily improved in color and flavor, the
tea was delicious. Little entrees made
their appearance, which before our circum-
stances did not seem to warrant. The ta-
BILE was always in order, even at times de-
corated with flowers, and the work was well
done, and as performed by some invisible
agency.
Harry, she is positively treasure, y
said my wife to me, one evening, after we
had retired to our room. II have so much
more time, now, to attend to baby and the
children. Miss Campsted is an admirable
manager, and she has some very nice look
ing people to visit her"
''Has she many visitors p asked. II
thought she talked as if she were a stranger
here"
"Now and then one-richly dressed -
almost too richly" my wife added in a
hesitating voice "But then we don't visit,
and really know nobody. She has broth
er, too"
"a brothern' I cried, more and more
surprised. 'She told me she had no rela-
tions here"
"Well, he wasn't here till yesterday,
when he returned from California. l
caught glimpse of him as he went down
the street and he is really majestic look
ing man"
"Oh, this will never do" I said, impa-
tiently 1--WE are not rich, but there is
considerable solid silver in the house, and
some little gold in the way of watches and
chains, which are besides, valuable as heir
looms. [ don't like visitors-I don't like
the brother"
''Now you are suspicious and unkind,' y
said Mary "I would trust her with every
thing in the house-even my husband,
she added, laughing. "And though she
calls herself middle aged, and perhaps she
is-some women wear so well-she looks
almost like young girl, with her cap and
spectacles off, and her hair dressed differ
emily. As you will see, for [ have per-
suaded her to dispense with both to-mor-
row.
Tomorrow presented Miss Campstead as
a young lady of perhaps twenty-one OIL
three, not year older, according to ap,
pearance-and yet yesterday she looked
forty.
The ripple in her hair ran to curl
now. The spectacles gone, disclosed beau
tiful eyes, fringcd with long, soft lashes
She noticed my look of surprise, and smiled
as she said
II have worn caps since [ was thirty
but your wife has persuaded me to leave
them off for awhile. Do you, too, think ii
an Improvement ?"
II certainly do,'' was my reply, "for
hate caps and abominate spectacles."
"What fright l must have appeared il
your eyes, then p she said, sweetly, which
speech necessitated a complimentary an
swer, and made me feel excessively silly.
Her brother dined there one day. HI
was heavy, handsome, well-read fellow
apparently young and very clever.
''Would you object to my brothers
presence at dinner to-day?" soon became ;
regular form of request.
What could | do? Her brother Was
good company, played the piano, violin anc
flute with skill, talked well, and almost be
fore [ knew it, l was supporting him a:
we'll as his sister.
His conversation entertained me, anC
though my better judgment protested
against the encroachment, still allowed il
until it was impossible to say no.
Mary occupied herself more and more
with the children, who continued ailine
and nervous. Gradually she withdrew
herself from our circle on the plea of work
for the little ones, and one thing and anoth
er, all of which excuses l allowed to con
vince me. Unconsciously [ began to look
forward to the pleasant after-work hours.
Miss Campstead, read, sang and played
equally well. Always she deferred to my
judgment, sang my songs, read from my
favorite authors. Her brother was equally
ready to talk, or to add to the amusement
of the evening.
[ became accustomed to this interesting
partnership. Sometimes Mary stole in tc
sit with us a while, and then stole out
again.
knew she was not my Mary as of old
but | laid it to her cares. Nor did [ no.
tice, then, that her eyes grew languid, hel
movement slow; that she seldom smiled
that her merry, silvery laugh never rang
out as of yore.
[ did not cream that she was fast be-
coming prey to insidious disease.
W 4