The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1885-08-28

merred."
The speaker was tail, gaunt woman
whose expressionless face seemed cu
out of solid rock, without one softeneC
line, even in this hour of trial. Lisbetf
Morton looked up quickly. ''No, thank
you, aunt Rachel, you have no work fol-
me, | am sure, and should not like t.
be burden. l am going to the city
and intend to get situation as house
maid. I'll work little cheaper thar
the others do, if 1 can have time to &c
to the Art School one day in the week
and some of the evenings"
''Going out to serviceP" the hard voice
answered, sneeringly. "Its just like
you, anyway; you always was cranky;
but | didn't think my brothers dartel
'ud stoop so low. What II Jim Down.
ing sayP"
81 haven't asked him." replied the
girl, with pourd lifting of her head and
q vivid color in her cheeks.
"Well, you'd better" advised Aunt
Rachel, "and if he doesn't put his foot
down on that, my name amt Rachel
Jones, that's all.
81 shall do as I think best for myself, -
answered Lisbeth very quietly, and left
the room to attend to some household
duties. The gray evening came slowly
on. Brother Joe and his new wife took
Aunt Rachel to her dreary home on their
way to spend the evening with neigh
Dor. Lisbeth sat down to her sewing
with fast beating heart, listening at in
tervals for step she knew so well, that
might at any moment be heard on the
gravel walk beneath the window. She
had not long to wait, for gentle knock
was followed by quick opening of the
door in country fashion, and a young
man, with close-cropped yet dark-curl-
ing hair entered without further cere-
mony. He took her hand and attempted
to draw her down to chair beside him,
but she sprang lightly up under pre-
tense turning down the wick of the
lamp for fear it might crack the glass,
and then seated herself on the opposite
side OF the fireplace. Yet the tones of
her voice were tender, even trembling
as she talked of every day affairs; at
last with some hesitation she said: 81
wanted chance to tell you that | am
going to the city to stay"
The young man looked surprised, and
there was protest in his voice as he
said; "Why, Lisbeth, isn't it rather
suddenp You surely don't mean to
stayP"
Eyes I do" she answered, drearilv,
'Tm not wanted here. Maria takes nv
place already and it's right she should,
but it cuts me up dreadfully, I've been
head of the house. and all Joe had to
depend on so long-I can't get used to
it."
sit is only till next year." he pro-
tested. "Then my apprenticeship is
finished, and you might take me for
better and for worse"
There was minutes pause, and then
she spoke slowly but with an air of con-
viction. 81 couldn't, my clothes would
wear out; my temper would be soured;
l should not be worth taking. l am not
fit for anything but homework, father
never thought it mattered for girls. Now
l must begin my life and it will be hard
at first. But | have just got so far with
my studies in art, | want to get further,
so | shall get housemaid's place, and
can save over $4,000 by the time you
are"
She never finished her sentence, for he
broke in-"You, a servant, Lisbeth
Morton, you will not degrade yourself
II do not think it degrades me, trying
to earn an honest living, any more than
ii | was q dress maker or music
teacher" she answered with spirit.
his face paled with passion, his dark
eyes glowed. IF you go to service
have done with you," he said finally"
You have, James Downing!n said
Lisbeth in cool, calm ones,-''and there
is the door-good evening""
His manner changed. ooh, Lisbeth.
be persuaded" he said imploringly,
with sound as of tears in his voice.
But she shook her head and did not
speak, as he picked up his cap and fun.
bled for the atch, evidently blind with
grief and anger. Neither of them re-
membered in after years just how they
parted, but the sad break never healed,
and during the weeks that she remained
at the old homestead, Lisbeth did not
again meet her old lover. Miss Arabel-
larDowning was strong in her denuncia-
ton of the young girls project. "To
think our Jim had an idea of marrying
her once, she said in moment of con.
nnAnnA
shame for her. She might have taken
in sewing, or trimmed hats, or had a
strawberry bed, that's fashionable now,
anything but that, well, she's lost caste
any way and Jim will likely marry
Amelia Blakely, who has little money,
thou~h she isn't as pretty as Lisbeth
Morton. But then beauty's only skin
deep anyway" which must have been a
consolation to her if her glass was faith
full. And so in this small village,
where every one did their own house
work, where every farmers wife was
nurse, seamstresS, housemaid, cook, y
all in one, our little forlorn girl was an
outcast from society because she chose
to do whatever her hands found to dc
well. Aunt Rachel, in fit of spasmodie
generosity, made for her twelve large
aprons, of the coarsest crash towing,
suitable for scullery maid in her poi
washing moments, and LiSbeth thanked
her for them with a good grace. But
all these petty trials made the parting
from the old home less severe, and il
was almost with sigh O. slief that she
babe farewell to her early associations,
and after planting rose bush on the
graves of her parents, stepped out into
the world without further regret, than
to be so far from those grassy mounds.
Mrs. Lyster was a widow with two
unmarried daughters who were Just out
in society, and spent all the time they
could spare from that arrogant mistress
in the pursuit of art, with little music
and embroidery that was also artistic.
Maud was not more than seventeen, !"
but tall and stately" with hauteur
of manner that was not so pleasant
as the Rffectionate disposition of Mig
non, the younger. They were good
girls, brought up in gay, thoughtless
manner, without troubling their heads