The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1885-03-28

| She came OH VICTORIOUS, however. AVen
Thomas Weeks succumbed before Nthe
crushing arguments and the whitening kar-
casms, tumbling pell-meil over each other,
which she brought to bear upon him.
''weH, thar's one in it that amt dedd,"
said Charlotte, hesitatfngly, returning {her
sisters look; Nancy wanted some hair
sons was sandy. That reddish rose bud
YOU spoke of was made out of it."
''Whose was it," asked Paulina, Lu-
riously.
so, well-somebody's."
"Well," said Paulina, with a sigh, git's
beautiful, and it must have been a sfgH Of
patience to do it. YOU'RE wonderful NO
man"
40, no! 1t want so very much I'd do
after you got at it,"
Its such an ornament, and apartk som
have it,"
That's what l tell Nancy. OF course it
makes handsome picture to hang on The
wall. But | should think full as much of
keepin' the hair so; it's such a nice way"
''fhat oval frame is elegant, too"
After her callers had gone, Marley
thought over what they had said with
simple pleasure and self-gratulation. This
innocent, narrow minded, middle-aged
woman felt as much throbbing wonder and
delight over her hair wreath as any geFius
over one of his creations. As far as nap
piness of that kind went she was lust as
we'll off as Michael Angelo or Turner;
and as far as anything else, she was Just
as good a woman for believing in hair
wreathS. ~,
She had toiled hard over this one: seem
ingly, nothing but true artistict instinct,
and delight in work could have urged hex
on. 1t was exceedingly slow, nervous
work, and she was o very delicate wa
Many a niIghf she had LAIN awake with
her tired brains weaving the hair roses and
lilies which her fingers had laid down.
Paulina spoke to Charlotte on their way
home about her sisters looking so frail.
II know it," said Charlotte. Nancy never
had any backbone, an she's worked awful
hard. | s'pose it's moren she ought to do,
maxim all those fancy tixin's; but she's
crazy to do 'em, can't seem to let 'em alone;
an she does have real knack at it,"
} THAT hair wreath was beautiful" as
+, sented the other; 'but l should have been
} afraid it would have worn on her."
When they got home, Mrs Steadman's
daughter Emmeline had got tea ready.
She was capable young woman; she
took III dress making, and supported her
self and mother and had all she could
do. She was rather pretty; tall and slen-
der like her mother; with a round face,
and a mouth with an odd, firm quicker to
it when she talked that strangers took
for smile; she had very rosy cheeks.
! There was prayer.meeting in the
church vestrv that evening, and after tea
J Mrs Steadman proposed going, with her
company and her daughter. Emmeline
demurred a little. She guessed she
wouldn't go, she said.
why not?" asked her mother, sharply.
She still kept tight rein over this steady,
dutiful daughter of hers. "Yo on don't ex-
pect anybody to-night?'
Her mother said "any body with a re-
gard for secrecy; she meant Andrew Stod-
dard.
Emmeline colored very rod. ''No, l
don't" she said quickly; "I'n 60" She
was not engaged to the young man, and
felt sensitive. 1t seemed to her if she
should stay at home for him, and he should
not come, and her mother and her cousin
should suspect her of it, she could not bear
it; besides, she did not really expect him Il;
there was nothing but the chance he might
come to keep her. So she put on her hat,
and went to the meeting with her mother
and Mrs. LOOMS.
She wondered when she got home if he
had been there, but there was no way of
finding out. He had to drive from town
,siX miles further up the river to see her.
He was the son of the country -stOrekeeper
there, and acted himself as head clerk. He
was a steady, Choking young man,
though he had the name of being rather
fiery tempered. People thought he was
great CdlCu LOT EnlIISllue. lie Hul Dee0 TO
see her some six weeks now. She hoped
he would ask her TO marry him; she could
not help it, for she had grown fond of him.
Her mother was sure he would-in fact,
she hardly knew but what he had. Emme
line herself was not so sure; she had never
a very exalted opinion of herself, and was
more certain of her own loving than she
was of anybody else's.
When Sunday night came she staid at
home from meeting, without any comment
from her mother, who put on her decent
best bonnet and shawl, and went alone.
Paulina Loomis had gone home the day be-
fore.
Emmeline had put the little front room,
which served alike as dress makers shop
and parlor, in the incest order. 1t was a
poor little place, anyway. There was a
worn rag carpet, some cane-seatsd chairs,
and one black wooden rocker, covered with
chintz. An old-fashioned bureau stood
against the wall; and of a weekday a ma
hogany card table, made square by having
its two leaves up, in the center of the room.
Emmeline used this last for cutting.
To-day she had put down the leaves, and
set it back against the WALL between the
two front windows. Then she had got the
best lamp out of the closet, and set it on it.
1t was new lamp, with a pretty figured
globe, one she had bought since Andrew
began coming to see her. She had
picked bunch of flowers out in
her garden, too, and arranged them in q
gilt and white china vase, and set it beside
the lamp. There were balsams, and phloX,
and larkspur, and pihbs, and some aspara-
gus for green. She had tucked all her
work and her patterns out of sight in the
bureau drawers, swept and busted, and got
out a tidy to put on the rocking chair.
: Then she had put on her best dress, and sat
down to wait. She thought, perhaps he
would come before her mother went to
church; but he didn't. SO she sat there
alone in the fading light, waiting. Every
time she heard a team coming she thought
it was his; but it would roll past, and her
heart would sink. At last the people began
to flock home from meeting, and her
mothers tall, STOPPING black figure came in
through the gate. She thought Andrew
was there, so she went straight through
the long narrow entry to the kitchen; Ems
incline knew why she did. After a while
she opened the door from the kitchen eau
tiously, and peered into the dark room:
she had lamp out there.
There's nobody in here, mother" said
Emmeline; you needn't be afraid"
Didn't he come? thought didn't hear
any talkin'."
mo; nobody's been here"
"Why, | wonder what's the reason?"
II s'pose there's some good one," replied
Emmeline, puckering up her lips firmly.
"I'm tired; guess ri 20 to bed"
If she felt badly she did not show it, ex-
cept by her silence at her mother's wonder