The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1885-12-11

moment engaged in attending to the pa
TENTS wants he said nothing, only looked
at her sharply to see her object
Margie was not an experienced nurse
but she was a bright girl and her awak.
ened conscience and remorse made hel
quick and watchful. This close care was
better than technical knowledge, under the
circumstances, and the patient improved
at once. The doctor commended her on
his next visit, and before the end of week
announced the sick woman out of danger.
thanks to the watehful intelligent care Of
Margie
She had a talk with her father. too. and
when Margie was leaving the room that
evening to eat her dinner she met at the
door her father. who took her suddenly in
his arms and kissed her. saying brotenly
My darling Now you are like your
blessed mother. Do not remember the
hard words | said the other day was
beside myself with pain.
80, papar' cried Margie, with emotion
equal to his own, you were right de-
served them. Do forgive me and hur-
ried away to indulge in one more ery-this
time of joy.
In the calm way in which the very Ill
accept whatever is Offered, the step-niother
had accepted Margie's ministrations. II
at first recognition she was surprised, she
was too weak to say SO, and before She
could talk much she had seen that Margie
was won.
Perhaps, too she had reason to knew
more of her character than was suspected.
for strange and overwhelming revelation
came to Margie little later.
She was able to sit up and after Margie
had helped her into pretty wrapper, and
the nurse had drawn her easy chair up to
the window that she might look out and
see the coming of spring, in fragrant apple
blossoms that glorifed tree in the yard
she asked Margie TO take a key from her
drawer. and get her something out of her
desk.
The nurse had left the room, and Nargie
opened the desk. There. lying open, as if
just signed and ready to fold. lay letter.
just as she knew well. The handwriting
was familiar in every line: the name was
signed Your Fairy Godmother.''
She stood a moment, thunderstruck. the
lid of the desk III her hand In all her
eonjeetures as to the author of the letters
she had never thought of her step-mother.
She looked around: she saw her diseov-
cry was known. A great love and pity
and tenderness We're in the face she had
nursed back to life; tears were in the eyes,
too, and the wasted arms opened earnestly
20 my dear. ,con't you forgive me, and
love me?' trembled from her lips
A great wave Of feeling rolled over Mar
gie-pride, shame. remorse, pain, love,
respect, all in one great sweep.
She hesitated-she yielded. The cover
the friend-the step-mother. She buried
her face IN her lap, she sobbed and wept
and could not speak, while the gentle, thin
hands stroked her hair, and words broken
by tears fell from her lips.
DO not feel so, my dear II hoped l
could make you love me- wanted it
above all things-I wanted to fill that
vacant mother-place to you-i want you
for my daughter
Can you ever-eyer-forgiye me p
sobbed poor Margie. so mean-so I'M
grateful-so''-
''Do not say more, Margie, interrupted
the tender voice of her step-mother, don t
speak Of the past-that is all over. Let
us begin again on a higher basis If
have WOE daughters love, I shall regret
no pain in the winning
She had most completely won daugh-
ter's love. Margie gave to her who had
been the source of all her new pleasures
the tender name of Mother" and she
even had the magnanimity to confess to
the girls who had stood by her all through.
what fatal mistake she had made, and
how near ishe had come, through her own
pride and folly, to throwing away the hap
piness of her own life, and wrecking that
of her father as well,-N 7. Eramiaer