The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1883-11-29
THE YOUNG WIDOW.

that day, as she sat at the breakfas
table pouring coffee for her husband
and dispensing bread and butter to tn,
three little Piercy's. She was hand
some, overdressed woman, with goot
deal Of false hair, frizzed and puffet
and braided on the top of tho head, ant
a complexion that bore remote witness
to the constant use Of cosmetics. AND
Mr.. Piercy, at his end Of the table, waf
evidently ill at ease, rs he broke biz
egg and nibbed diligently at his roll.
| 'But what was to do, my dear?'
said he, after brief silence which was
ny no means peaceful.
| "Do?' shrilly retorted Mrs, Piercy.
"Why, what do other people do? Are
we to keep homo for the INDECENT
poor2" Or a refuge for the widowed
and fatherIess?"
"My dear, my DEAR" pleaded Mr..
Piercy, who was small man, with thin
hair and speotacles, "you may be q
widow yourself, some day."
"And If am, I shall not go begging
among my relatives, that you may de-
pend Oh, said Mrs. Percy. "And, 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'll I
declare, theumore think OF it, the more
am amazed ut the woman's presump-
too. Pame Gu Pe9oyS Is an ndsed
wager my new lace pm that she was a
| second-rate actress when she married
your brother. No, Mr. Piercy, if you
think that T.
But there the torrent of the lady's
eloquence was cut short by the unex-
pected appearance on the scene of the
very subject of her objurgation--a tall,
pretty woman of about four and twenty
whose wavey, golden tresses and de,i-
cately fair complexion contrasted vivid
ly with the deep mourning weeds she
| wore.
! ga veil down TO her feet" mentally
ejaoulated Mrs. Abel Piercy. "And q
| six inch bias band OF the very best
Courtland Grape on her gown, Won
der who's expected to pay for all this?"
Abel Piercy, the kindest hearted OF
little men, welcomed his brothers
widow with genuine hospitality; but
| Matilda, his wife, looked askance at
her, with no friendly smile upon he,
countenance.
"Ot course you will consider this
your home," said MIR. PIercy, as he
| made haste to draw chair close to the
fire.
"Until you are able to suit yourself
somewhere else,' crispely added his
wife.
The widow said little; she only
looked with large, wistful eyes, from
one to tho other, rs she sat there, the
morning sunshine turning her fair locks
to braided masses OF gold, the pearly
delioacy Of her skin arousing the liveli
est envy in Mrs. Abel's heart.
'"Though, OF course, It's only some
French balm, or Cir0assjan Cream OF
other, that [ haven't heard Of" said she
to herself.
But, after Mr.. Piercy had buttonet
back to the breakfast room, while hi
wife was putting up the children'
school lunches III the pantry.
'I'm not much of talker. Plume,
said he, in all 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 little peculiar
Matilda is, but do assure you She
"Mr. Piercyl" uttered sharp, warn
, ing voice, at this instant, from tn
threshold, sis it possible you haven
started yet? And you know how pal
ticuIar Bulge e. Bodley are as t
your getting ut the store at nine pre-
cisely."
Mr.. Pircey turned pink all over.
Eyes, my dear, yee," said he; "I'l
quite sure to be in tlme~
And off he started on trot.
When he was gone Plume took o
her bonnet and veil, removed ht
0 mantle and gloves and went into til
:, kitchen.
t Cannot do something to help 20,
4 sister Maljlda?" said she pleadingly.
y Mrs. Abel Percy looked, with ool
blue eyes and lips prlmly compresse'
at the fur face, which was younger or
fresher than ever without the jet blat
circict OF the bonnet, and the sliel
graceful figure before her.
e r ''No, 1 thank you," sail she. IL a
Is not us cd to having fine ladies in my k
y chem"
But if you will lend mo an apron
mo, L thank you. Mrs. Oswa
Piercy |" repeated the housewife. "Y'
:. will find the newspaper in the hall. Pe
irss haps the advertising columns may int
10 est YOU
eg ol I'VE are sisters," said the you
widow, with quivering lip. Will y
not call me Piume?"
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