Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1885-09-03
Mrs. CliffOrd'S Mistake.
"Oh, dear!"

>"Oh, dear"
1t was sign of WEAKNESS, and poor,
tired.Mrs. Clifford sank for a moment
into luxurious easy chair. Perhaps l
should not say poor Her husband was
called by his friends comfortable we'll
off, Tired, she certainly was. From
dawn till dark her feet must be in every
place, her hands must toll and toll that
there be no creak or jar in the household
machinery. Kitchen girls she had tried,
but they only brought extra care, she
said, and she was glad to be independent.
To-day she had been unusually busy, and
the parler had been left undusted until
afternoon. That was why she happened
in while her daughters city friends
were there.
Of course she hastily retreated. Close
by the door stood that Inviting chair.
and for once Mrs. Clifford yielded to her
longing for rest. She could hear the gay
voices in the other room, but took no
notice of them till lizzie said lightly:
ooh, that was only the woman who
works for us. She did not know any one
was here. What were you saying about
the bridge, Madge?"
And then the talk went on as before,
broken now and then by ripple of
laughter. Mrs. Clifford heard no more.
She forgot her pain and weariness; she
forgot the pile of sewing awaiting her
in another room. lizzie and Reba were
babies again, and she was a proud young
mother. Her husbands means were
limited, but they must wear the finest
embroidery, and by denying herself
many comforts she could keep them
clothed as nice as she wished. They
were early given the incest It'd bits at the
table and what wonder if they looked
upon mothers share of good things as
their own? They were pretty children,
and as they grew older she prided her
self upon keeping them daintily dressed.
To be sure, this involved sacrifice on her
palt She had loved books, but it took
too much time to read, these must be
given up for the children's sake She
must sit up at nights and sew; she must
wear her cloak the third winter and have
her best dress made over once more, ia
order that lizzie might have that charm
ing hat with plumes or Reba the bead
trimming that she has so much desired.
Did they help about the work? Oh,
mol At first she could not bear to have
them soil their clothes in the kitchen,
besides hindering her. Later, they were
too busy with studies or practice or some
rehearsal.
By the time they reached young girl
hood, her husbands income warranted
the best teaching. and they, being quick
and bright, did credit to their instructor.
His income also warranted her many
hours of leisure; but alas! so long had
she lived for the children that it SEEM
ed impossible to make any change. No
body could do up the muslins or pre-
pare the food like mother.
Her husband had long since ceased to
look to her for intellectual companions
ship. 1t was the girls with whom he
talked science and politics. When he
wanted music they played and sang. If
he went to lecture or concert they
accompanied him. Her own mission
seemed fulfilled in a well-cooked meal
or nicely ironed shirt.
What mistake she had made! 1t
rushed upon her now, as she sank back
into the easy chair with those words
ringing all sorts of changes over and
over in her ears: "The woman who
works for us! the woman who works for
US!
But the callers must have gone. The
outer door has opened and shut, and
bark! the girls are talking again. 1t is
Reba's voice:
"Oh, lizzie! how could yOu?"
huOW IL was pOiACSOAy o"AoA' OuO
what could dos If mother would only
dress deceDtly aud get used to society
we should not have to be ashamed of
her when any one comes. It's all her
own fault"
Ashamed of herl The children who
had cost her so many wakeful nights, SO
many anxious thoughts, ashamed of her
Mrs. Clifford arose mechanically and
went to her room. There she did some>
thing very unusual for her. She spent
at least five minutes gazing at her own
reflection in the glass. Not proposes
ing figure, certainly. Her dress, a plain
calico, guiltless of even color; her hair
combed straight back, twisted in the
smallest possible knot at the back of her
head, and the face-could that be the
face that once had been called beautiful
No wonder the woman heaved sigh, as
she saw how faded and wrinklsd it had
become.
As she gazed resolute look came into
the gray eyes,
Ashamed of me, and my own fault!