The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1883-10-01
BY SUSAN COOLIDGE.

Myra Sydney was sitting In the window Of
her little parlor watching the slow rising OF
storm over the opposite sky. Even city
streets have their opportunities. This street
in which Miss Sydney dwelt was in the out
skirts of suburb, where building plots were
still generously measured. It ran along the
ridge of slope, and Miss Sydney's house
had the further advantage of standing oppo-
site group of vacant lots, beyond which,
above the roofs and chimneys on the lower
streets, line of blue hills was visible,
topped with woods and dappled with cloud
shadows.
Many an autumn sunset had she watched
from her front windows; many soft spring
rain and whirling snow storm. To some
natures there are both companionship and
compensation in the changeful aspects of
nature. Myra was one of these. She would
not have exchanged her little house with it's
wide view for any other, however magnifi-
cent, whose boundaries were brick walls
alone; and sky, and sun, and hill made for
the leisure moments of her busy life per-
petual and unwearying feast.
The room in which Miss Sydney sat ex-
pressed its owner, as rooms will, whether
meant to do so or not. In no respect of size
or shape did it differ from No. II ON one
side, or No. 10 on the other, yet its aspect
was anything rather than commonplace.
The prevailing tint on the wall and floor was
soft olive, which made a background for
brighter colcred things; for the old Indian
shawl, which did duty as a portiere; for a
couple OF deep-hued Eastern rugs; for pic
lures of various kinds and values, and a
sprlnkling of bric-a-brac, odd rather than
valuable, but so chosen as to be in thorough
harmony with its surroundings.
Everything had use. No pitfalls yawned
ar oel.o &c
tables, Queen Anne or otherwise, laden
with trumpery biscuit or Sevres, and ready
to upset with a touch. A couple of short,
old-fashioned sofas ianked the fireplace on
either side, two or three easy-chairs, and a
frm-set, low table, laden with books and
periodicals, completed sort of circle, where
ten or dozen persons could group them
selves al ound the blaze. Miss Sydney her.
self, slight, vivid, and very simply dressed,
but without an ungraceful point or fold,
was in accordance with her room.
The clock struck seven. The black cloud
had crept to the zenith, and now a strong
gust of wind swept from beneath it, bring
Ing on its wings the first drop of rain. Miss
sydney rose and shut the window. At that
moment the door bell rang
TITS two girls with parcel, Miss Myra,"
said Esther, the parlor-maid. "They'd like
to speak with you, they say"
Miss Sydney went out into her little entry.
The girls, about the same age, were of the
unmistakable shop-girl type. '.You are
from Snow d Asher's, think?" she said in
her courteous voice.
"Yes'm. Mr.. Snow said he wasn't sure
which of the under-waists it was that you
took, SO he sent both kinds, and you will try
'em on, please~
Certainly. Are you to wait for them?'
"Yes'm.p
Miss sydney made what haste she could,
! but before she returned the rain was falling
in torrents. "You must wait till it slack
ens,' she said. "You'll be very wet if you
don't. Have you far to go2''
''She has," replied one of the girls, with
an embarrassed giggle. ''Pm pretty near
by, and the horse-car runs just in front of
the door. But Cary has to walk quite a long
way, and her shoes is thin, too. She'd bet
ter wait, guess, but must go, anyway"
Miss Sydney glanced at the shoes-cheap,
paper-soled boots, with dusty, velvet bow
sewed on the toe of each, and she, too, con-
cluded that by all means ''Cary" must wait.
Come in here" she said. leading the way
into the parlor. Esther had now lighted the
lamp. A little fire sparkled on the hearth
Myra drew an easy chair close to it. "Sit
own and have thorough warming" she
S id. 'It's chilly evening""
"Yes'm."
The girl thrust the velvet-bowed shoes,
which gaped for lack of buttons, out to the
fire, and, half from embarrassment, held up
hand to shade her face 1t was a small
hand, with an ambiguous red gem on the
fore6nger. The nails were all bitten to the
quick, Miss Sydney noticed.
The lace Shaded by the hand was not I'M
pretty. The brown eyes had straightfor-
ward, honest glance, the mouth was rather
sweet, there was that delicacy of modelling,
just bordering on fragility, which gives to
the early youth of so many American wo-
men, fleeing charm. 1t was face which
softly-banded hair and low knot would
suit; but with the bad taste of her class,
''Cary" had adopted the style of couture
which became her least. All the front hair
was an unkempt tangle Of chang" At the
back was mass of jute switches, braided
and surmounted with gilt comb, and on
top of the erection was perched a straw hat
lined with blue, and ornamented with be-
draggled cocks tail. The dress, of cheap
material, was blue also, and was frilled and
hounced into caricature of the prevailing
fashion. A ruffie of soiled lace surrounded
the girls neck, beneath which, over not
over-clean muslin tie, hung smart locket of
yellow metal-very yellow. Bangles clinkeG
round the slender wrists. Beneath the
pulled and ruffied skirt, shabby petticoat
of gray cotton peeped out Though the
weather was chill, the girl wore no wrap.
Miss Sydney noted these details in half the
time it has taken to describe them, and
stirred with pity that was half indignation,
she said:
''My child, how could you think of COM
ing out on such day as this, without
shawl?'
81 haven't any shawl"
swell, a jacket then"
II haven't any jacket, either, that matches
this Dress" glancing complacently down at
the beruffied skirt.
"But you would rather wear a jacket that
didn't match your dress than catch a cold,
wouldn't you?"
#"Yes," admitted the girl, in rather an un-
willing tone. "But the only one I've got is
purple, and it looks horrid with this blue"
Noting dissent in her companions face, she
added: "We poor girls can't have wrap
for every dress, like rich ladies do.'
mo-" said Miss Sydney, gently, II know
it. | never attempt to have a different wrap
for each dress l wear. Il cannot afford it
either.''
"Cary'' stared "How queerr' she began,
then changed it to, "But you and us are
quite different, ma'am."
There was something wistful in the face,
which touched Myra Sydney. SIT will be
time wasted, l dare say" she said to herself,
''still should like, just for once, to argue
out the dress question with girl like this.
She is one of great class, and, poor things,
they are so dreadfully foolish and ignorant"
She made no immediate reply to her COM
panion, but rose and rang the bell.
81 am going to give you cup of tea," she
said. clark, how it rainsl You can't go
yet, and you will be less likely to take cold
when you do go, if you start well warmed.
Besides, / want to have you stay. | should
like to have little talk over this question
of dress, which is SO interesting to all of us
women" She smiled brightly at her guest,
who, as if dazzled, watched the entrance of
the tray with its bubbling kettle, its plates
of thin bread, and butter, and crisp, dainty
cakes; watched Myra measure the tea, warm
the pot of gay Japanese ware, and when the
brew was ready, fill the thin Tipped cups,
and drop in sugar and cream.
chow nicev' she said, with a sigh of sat
isfaction. Her heart opened under the new
unwonted kindness ana comfort, and Miss
Sydney had little difficulty in learning what
she wished to know. Cary Thomas was the
girls name. She had lived sat home" till
two years ago. Did she like the city? Yes,
she liked it well enough, but it was not
much like home to board. She and another
girl that worked at Snow & Asher's, bad a
room together out in Farewell Street. They
had pretty good times when they were not
too full of work, but in the busy season they