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

Returning one afternoon from visit to a
friend, Margie found the house in conru-
sion; two doctors carriages before the
door; her father sent for; the children
crying; the servants standing around the
halls.
On her appearance she was assailed with
the news. Horses had run away. Mrs,
Barnard was very badly hurt--the doctors
feared fatally. They were in there now
Where's father?" was her question.
I'm the library, half crazy, was the re-
ply.
Now" thought Margie, ''now's my
chance. Now can be a comfort to papa"
and throwing aside her street things she
rushed i'll eagerly. Her father was walk
ing back and forth: talking aloud in his
sore distress.
30 Cod he murmured, u cannot see
her suffer! cannot have her die
Margie stopped, awed by his grief, He
went on:
with her lose every hold have on
lifer'
Margie could keep back no longer.
80, papa.'' she cried, laying her hand on
his arm, Don't say that! You have lis
children; we surely are something to you.
!, papa, will be all can to YOU
Her father looked at her. and the mingled
grief and sternness of his face Margie could
never forget.
You - he said 'You-will comfort !?
You have Systematically and cruelty re-
PEELED the tenderest heart in the world.
You have planted every sting in my heart
that was in your power since she conde-
Scended to be a mother to my neglected
children, and fill a vacant place in my
heart which no daughter--however dear
could possibly fill Do you think your
blessed mother would approve of You
Leave me alone with my grief.
Margie crept out of the room, stunned,
crushed, struck with a sudden sense of her
own abominable conduct. She had been
forgetful of her own mother dying words:
Daughter, do everything You can to make
papa happy for my sake She felt herself
a wretch she saw herself for once as she
was, and felt with sharp pains how her
own dear mother would regard her.
She went to her room, filled with shame
and remorse. and if ever three hours ofpen-
itence created new spirit, Margie Barnard
was made anew that bitter afternoon.
Now began the strange experiences, like
nothing else, when illness that may be
death fills house. The children were sent
away; tine house was kept dark and quiet,
a professional nurse came and took charge;
anxiety was on every face, and things were
unnatural and gloomy.
Margie found her animosity melted and
gone. and the sufferer being constantly in
her thoughts she remembered, in spite of
herself all her Kindness all her gentle
efforts to add to her happiness, all her at
tempts to make the home bright and cheer
full, and opposed to every thought of her
she remembered her own hateful repulsion
of every effort her own wicked pride which
had made her father unhappy, disobeyed
her mothers last request, and brought the
only cloud over happy home.
At last she saw something she could do.
Meals were prepared in the kitchen and
taken up bv the nurse. and Margie noticed
that they were most unattractively served
on common dishes, with no attempt at
pleasing arrangement.
Il don't see how any one could relish
food sent up like that, was her comment
as she saw the tray come out untouched.
She set herself to reform that. She pre-
pared a tray, with daintily embroidered
tea-cloth as a cover, sugar in tiny silver
bowl instead of cup, the invalid $ 1ndi-
vidual cup, and decorated plate, sub
stituted a silver dessert knife for great
steel dinner knife, folded the most delicate
napkin she had in a fanciful way and
stuck it up in an egg-shell tumbler, and
last touch of all, placed a tiny vase with
one half-opened rosebud in the centre.
That day the food was tasted, and from
that time the trays that went into the sick
room were daintily and tastefnlly ar
ranged.
The invalid was doing well, and every
hope was entertained that she would re-
cover. but suddenly there was dangerous
relapse which no one could account for
The doctor looked puzzled, and Margie,
lowering around to hear what they said,
heard a muttered remark about the care
lessness or stupidity of nurses, which led
her to infer that they blamed the woman
in charge
She walked directly into the room.
please tell me, DR.. Jarvis She said
earnestly, did I understand you that it
is the fault of the nurse that this relapse
has oceurred2"
Now Dir. Jarvis had known Margie from
the cradle, and he looked at her for mo-
ment.
Il don't say this nurse is not as careful
as any of her class, but of course no hired
person can have the interest aud take the
care that friend would do. | think She
would be better for little oversight.
doctor, do yen think-eould | be of any
use ?'' came tremblingly from her lips.
Certainly, my dear. great deal of use.
II you only kept watch of the medicines,
and saw that orders were oheyed, you
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