The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1885-12-26
did either of her visitors, George and Mrs

did either OF her visitors, George and Mrs.
Bangs.
All the same, she did think of Mary
hundreds of times, as the afternoon and
evening passed.
They passed but slowly, let us confess, as
is the way with afternoons and evenings
when visitors have come who have been
long invited, when visitor and visited have
put on their company manners, and when
they have not great deal to say, and,
being usually busy people, have, in honor
of this visit, nothing to do.
Mrs. Shepard was not sorry when, as
the clock struck nine, Mrs. Bangs said
that they rose very early, and that she was
tired
There was chance for all of them to go
to bed. And they went.
Yes; [ am quite sure that Mary's pun
ishment once more was more severe upon
the punisher than upon the punished.
For Mary was campaigner of far too
much experience to be much disturbed by
the confinement of a few hours, more or
less. The dinner she missed she was sorry
for; but, as the reader knows in part, she
had discounted some of its possibilities, and
the reader does not know, and need not
know, how much farther she had gone in
the same direction. She was to spend GER
tain six hours in one place which she would
otherwise have spent in another. This
was, on the outside, all.
And her conscience?
Well, there you are too much for me.
Conscience she most certainly had, and, up
to a certain point, she was undoubtedly
sorry that she had wounded or panied Mrs.
Shepard, whom she really liked, and for
whose kindness she was really grateful; but
this sorrow was mixed with certain re-
gret for the accident by which, as she sup
posed, she had been betrayed-the "gob, "
as she would have called it, on the table
cloth. Mrs. Shepard's pride in the elegance
of her jelly mould was wholly beyond
Mary's comprehension. As for sense
that she had taken what was not hers, that
panied her but little. She looked ON food
much as a squirrel looks on nuts, with a
vague notion of meum, perhaps, but only a
very vague notion Of tuum.
No, dear reader; of remorse, as you and
try to fancy remorse-as a gnawing fang
or tooth which will never be satisfied d-of
that our poor Mary had virtually none.
She lay on her bed, comfortably covered
with the bed quilt, and, raised by her ell
bow, she surveyed the passage of the after
noon on the farm. She was grimly pleased
when she saw her mistress essay the feed
ing of the hens, which would naturally
have devoIved upon her. She was more
pleased when she saw Silas fulfilling GER
tain duties of wood carrying and ash-bear-
ing which would have been hers were she
not imprisoned Darkness came and the
child fell asleep. At Z o'clock her door
was pushed open, and plate with slice
of bread and a mug of water were left
upon the floor. Then with some ceremony
the door was bolted Mary was awake
now; she had not undressed herself She
ate the bread, drank the water and looked
out upon the night.
The moon rose nearly full. The snow,
and the fall at the sawmill, and the ice of
the pond beyond, flashed with the glory.
Mary saw Silas 90 with his lantern as he
took his last turn at the barn, and she pom
dered how he could come back into the
night. For her, her one wish, since the
ice had made the week before, had been to
possess herself of Silas' skates, which were
hanging in the harness-room, and to try
them on the millpond. Of course Silas
would put them ON as soon as he had wa
| tered the oxen
But of course Silas did no such thing.
He had been at work since before daybreak.
He was glad enough to get to bed at s
o'clock. Moonlight or pitch darkness were
all one to tired Silas.
Then absolute silence came and Mary
Martin really for the first time felt that her
Imprisonment was serious.
To be hindered from washing the dishes
from feeding the hens, and from fetching
the kindling, was hardly grievance.
But to be hindered from this possible
hour of skating yonder-that was serious
indeed
But even Mary's invincible courage gave
way at last, She found her head dropp-
ing for sleep, when, to her surprise, bang
down stairs announced that Mr.. Shepard
was shutting up for the night. This was
the slam of the front door, refractory about
locking.
Could it be possible that they were going
to bed SO early?
What luck! And Silas' skates were in
the harness-room.
Yes. She could see the best room win
dows from her prison, She could see
Mrs. Bangs take off her front hair and
put on her queer old-fashioned night-cap.
She could not see her mistress room, but
she could see the column of light from its
window on the snow and the sycamores.
And at last both lights were extinguished,
For the other windows Mary was careless,
For Silas, she knew the stupid creature
had been asleep an hour,
IF he had not been stupid he would be
skating on that ice now.
1t can hardly be said that Mary had had
any plans for escape. She had stayed in
her room because, on the whole, this seem
ed advisable. AS Mr.. Mill would say, it
was more useful that she should stay.
She put on her thick shoes and all her
other walking gear, and opened the win
dow.
There were full twelve feet between the
floor of her room and the ground. Even
Mary did not dare chang of, i" as she had
expected to do.
A little annoyed, she looked around the
room, not SO much for a means of de-
scent as for the most convenient, sure
that civilization would supply something.
After this hesitation she promptly ran
her little iron bedstead to the window,
tied to the top rail the corner of sheet,
and in a minute had swung herself down,
hand under hand, by grasplng the folds,
and dropped lightly upon the snow.
In another minute she was in the har-
ness house, and in third minute she was
huckling Silas's rather long skates upon
the stout boots which Mrs, Shepard had
provided for the winter.
| tC;lao nnucf oat mo q better naIr said