Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1884-03-12
ommittee-of-the-whole, old Mrs. Play.

|
ford's huge, old-fashioned barouche
rumbled up to the door, with Leaning
Tower of Pisa strapped on behind in
the shape Of trunks!
"Im little earlier than usual, my
sweet girls" said she, with smile
that revealed the golden hinges Of her
false teeth after most ghastly fashion.
"But the season is intolerably hot, and
my doctor declares it would be suicide
for me to remain longer in town. And
l know, darlings, Pm always sure of a
welcome here!'
Mrs. Greyton was about to reply,
when Fenella stepped forward.
"Then you haven't heard of it ?'said
she. 1--WE are ruined, Mrs. Playford.
Old MIR. Framingham has spent all our
money and gone to Australia We
can't entertain company any longer.
But if you would like to board here, at
a reasonable compensation, we shall be
glad to receive you, and give you all
the comforts Of home"
Mrs. Playford's jaw dropped; she
turr ed a sickly, putty color.
"0Chn, John" she cried, to the man
"you needn't unstrap those trunks.
have so many friends who are anxious
for my society, that really l am not at
liberty to accept your very singular
proposition Ito Fenella). "Of course,
Ito Mrs Greyton) Il sympathize
deeply with you, but we all know that
riches have wings, and 1 Inever did put
any confidence in Mr.. birmingham as
business man. So sorry that things
should have come to such an awkward
complication!
"There she goes-the old harridanw
said Mona, as the withered hand waved
itself from the carriage-window, half
way down the drive "She has lived
upon us for six summers, and now she
wouldn't fling one of us a penny if we
were stalving"
Old Mrs. Playford was better than an
advertisement in the newspaper. The
Bidgood girls came no more; the city
people kept sublimely away. The old
adage concerning the flight of rats
from falling house, came strictly true.
"Rosa Bidgood hasn't even come
after that conserve of rose-leaves l
promised her." said Mona, sadly.
"And 7 gave five dollars for the spices
and essential-oils, and l dried the
jac4ueminot and niel.leaves so careful
ly and Clarie painted such beautiful
butterfly jar for it,"
"Can ! have the pot-pourri, Mona?
asked Bess. suddenly.
Eyes, ifyou want it, answered Mona,
with shrug of her shoulders. 1--WE
can't eat nor drink dried rose-leaves."
Perhaps we can," said Bess to her.
self.
And she rumaged out divers and
sundry rare old porcelain jars and vases
from the family store, filled them with
the sweet, strangely-scented mass that
Mona had concocted, and carried them
quietly to town.
at smells exactly like Mrs. Greytons
drawing-room at the manor house.
here" exclaimed Ferdinand IIoughton,
as he entered the studio of Miss NAL
vina Morris, a fair feminine sculptor
who had some very original ideas of
her own, and was on "hail- fellow-well-
met terms with all the other artists of
both sexes.
She was neither young nor pretty,
yet every one liked Miss Morris.
"Well, should think it might" said
she. ado you see those wine-jars on
the shelf?"
"Of course l do. What are they?"
"They are filled with conserved rose
leaves. Mona Greyton made them.
Bess, the second sister, wants me to
sell them for her. Real old porcelain;
leaves full of the subtlest scents of
Bendemeer. Will you take one at ten
dollars, Ferdy?"
"Then it's true?" said Houghton.
about their financial troubles?
Unfortunately, yes" said Miss Malvina
Il only wish l could help them. Come
buy the pot-pourri-there's good fel-
low!
"Its my last ten-dollar bill." said
Ferdinand, "but here goes! Mona
Greyton is an angel. Do you suppose
Miss Mally, she would accept poor
artist like me, with no particular in
come and nothing to live on?"
"Try it and see," said Miss Morris.
"But I'm not half good enough for
her."
Possibly" acceded Miss Malvina.
"But there are five girls, you know,and
nothing to live on"
So Ferdinand bought the pot-pourri,
and rode out at once to the manor
house.
"Your uncle, sir, wants to sec you up
at the house." said the groom who led |
out his little gray nag.
81 can't stay this morning." said
IIoughton. 81 am in hurry"
"But It is some very particular busi-
ness,' said the man, running down the
pavement after him.
"Oh, hang business said Houghton;
and off he rode
Mona was in the garden, with bas.
ket, gathering more rose-leaves. She
thought the pot-pourri question prom