The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1883-07-25
Why 1 Pay Bills when Due; or Aunt
Grace's Story.

"Oh, dear' said Rose Howard az she
looked at the paper which the servant
handed her. "Thst wretched girl is in
desperate hurry to send in her bill for en-
broidery. Twenty dollars Just what /
had saved tn pay for the bonnet and
gloves which must have, if go to Mrs.
Lorimer's reception. l did not expect
this bill until had my next months
allowance. Well, she must wait, that's
ALL"
"I would not make her wait, if I were
YOU, Rose" said Miss Grace Rowan, look
ing No from her sewing.
"Why, it is only ten days." said Rose. |
"Paoa always gives me my allowance on
the first dav of the month, and to-day is
the twenty-irst."
Nevertheless ] would pay her bill |
to-day" said Miss Rowan, earnestly. /" If
it will be of any use to you would much |
rather lend you the money. I can. prob
ably do without il better than she can"
"Thank you, Aunt Grace, but that
would not do at ALL said Rose. "When
papa consented to give me regular al
lowance it was on condition that should
never borrow a penny of any one. But
why are you so anxious that the bill
should be paid at once? Do you know
anything about this girl that you are so
sure she is in need of the money ?"
"No," said Miss Rowan, " know moth
ing about her. 1t is only on eral
principles that I am speaking. Not ex-
actlv, either. If you choose l will tell
You why never delay day in paying
bill sent in by poor person, above all
by poor youug girl.'
"A story" said Rose, gayly. "Oh,
that is delightful l am as fond of stories
now as 1 was at ten years old. It Just
comes at the right time, too, for mamma
wants me to finish this table-cloth, and l
do get 80 tired of these conventional bor-
ders, just the same thing over and over,
but story will make me forget it. Do
60 on, auntv."
Rose settled herself comfortably in her
low sewing-chair, and dropped her dark
lashes over her pretty blue eyes. Aunt
H.s~~rniled little at her esgerness, then
sighed family and began her tale.
at is story of the days when 1 was
an elderly young girl. living at home with
my parents" she said. "And the heroine
of the story-you remember those flower
paintings which you have 80 often ad-
mired at my home, Rose ?"
"lRemember them OF course l do.
Those great velvety pansies with the dew
drops standing upon their purple petals.
And the sweet peas, with rings of dainty
flush over tremulous white, looking as if
"a breath would blow them away. And,
r oh aunty those exquisite maple-buds and
catkins, the soft, furry white 'pussies,
mingled with the bright scarlet of the
bursting buds. 1t is like dream of early
spring. But how do they come into your
story, aunty ?" asked Rose, lifting wide
eyes of interest to her aunt's face.
"Only because the painter of those
pictures is the heroine of it," said Aunt
Grace. "Cara Hastings was her name.
She was much younger than l, an orphan,
fighting her way single-handed with the
world. Pretty? Well, rather pretty, not
very. She had slight, graceful figure,
dark, wistful eyes set in small, pale
face, flexible, tremulous lips, and profu-
sion of soft, dark, wavy hair, which
framed her broad forehead like a cloud.
81 met her first at the studio of a
friend, and, in spite of the two years diff.
ference in our ages, we took mutual
fancy to each other. After that | was
often at her studio, poor little bare place
that it was One room served for every
thiag-kitchen, parlor, studio, bedroom
yes, and reception room for her pupils
A broad lounge served for her bed al
night, and one corner of the room was
curtained off to conceal her toilette ap
paratus. Her cooking, such as it was
was accomplished upon small kerosene
stove, which, when not it use, she kept in
her closet. A poor little place, as l said
but Cara was very happy in it. Sht
~ Al
bright, happy dispositions which make
their own sunshine. She often talked t.
me of her pupils, but the one of whom
she spoke oftenest was Maud X. knew
the name well, for the father of this Mau,
was one of the most prominent clergy
men in the city where we both lived
Every one respected him, irrespective o
denomination. He was not only an elo
quent preacher and profound scholar, o
fervid piety and blameless life he wa
also a philanthropist, reformer, promi
nent in the temperance cause, in the soci
ETY. for the suppression of vice, in every
thing that was good and noble. Car
often spoke of him with enthusiasm.
"'It is not only that Maud is such
honor to be associated in any way wit
the family of such mani
gall this was in the winter. Sprin
came, and everybody was leaving towr
did not 60, although all my family die
simply because did not care to. Their
is such pleasant feeling and sense @
solitude in large city through July an
August that meant to put off my ou
ing until late September. Cara did nc
60 away either, and we saw good des
of each other. 1t was not an unalloye
Joy to me, though, for watching her,
saw that day by day her cheek grew pale
and thinner, her step slower, her eye MOI
feverishly bright.
"'What is the matter with you, Cara
I often asked anxiously, but she onl
smiled and protested that nothing allie
her, that she was only little tired wit
the hot weather; when fall came sh
would be herself again.