Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1885-03-21

you suppose they would put up with
the sour stuff they get at the bakers
shops? And you could easily get
up reputation on your raisin cakes
and fried crullers, and New England
pumpkin ples. Now, couldn't you ?"
The old lady frightened up lit
tie.
q used to be pretty good at cook
ing" said she. "And if you think
could support myself So"
81 am sure of it," cried cheerful
Grace. "And I'll 60 there with you
this very day to look vt the place, and
will engage it for three months on
trial. And | can paint you sign to
put over your door: 'Home-made
bread by Mrs. Deborah May And
I'll hem you some curtains, and az
range the shelves in the low window. !.
| almost wish | was going to be your
shop girl.' she added merrily, "But
can help you i'll the evening, you
know"
Grace Craxall's prophecies proved
correct. Aunt Debbie's delicious
homemade bread, whittier than pow
dored lilies, sweet as ambrosia, soon
acquired reputation, and the old
lady could scarcely bake it fast
enough. People came half a dozen
blocks to buy the yellow pumpkin
pies and delicious apple tsrts; chill
dren brought their boarded pennies
to invest in chocolate Sweetineats,
vanilla caramels, and cream cakes
with putty shells and delicious cell
tres of sweetness. The little money
drawer grew fat with coins, and Aunt
Debby's dim eyes grew bright and
hopeful again.
And one day Herbert Valance,
walking by with Medora May, stop
ped and looked in.
Isn't that your cousin Grace"
said he, "behind the counter ?''
McdoGa turned crimson with ycx-
alton.
Only cousin Grace. No, indeed. !.
We are not-in trade"
What possessed her to utter this
deliberate falsehood Medera could
not afterwsrd have told. Partly the
sting Of false shame, partly disin-
clination for Herbert Valance to
know that her relations were not, to
use her expression, "ladies aud gen.
tlcmen."
Mr.. Valance looked up at the sign
over the door.
"The name is May" he remarked,
indiilercntly.
Yes" said Medora, angry at her
self blushing so deeply, "but we are
no relation"
Mr.. Valance thought over the mat
ter; he afterward met Miss May at
party given by a friend, where pretty
Grace Crayall was also present he
had taken rather a fancy to the bright
blue and delicate blonde beauty of
the former. Valance hall, on the
hill Just ont Of the city, was solitary
enough now that his sisters had all
married and gone away, and perhaps
a man might find u less attractive
wife than Medora May. But he
could not be mistaken, he thought,
in Grace Craxall's identity.
And so the next evening, about
the same time, he sauntered into the
shop.
Grace was behind the daintily clean
little counter, taking some newly
baked maple caramels off the pan.
She looked up with smile.
"Good evening, Mr.. Valance" said
she.
$50" he thought, 81 wasn't mis-
taken after all. And the little blue
eyed seraph is mortal enough to tell
a lie in spite of her angelic appear
ancsl"
But he looked screnely at Grace.
81 didn't know you were in trade"
said he.
"Didn't you? Well" reto"ted Grace,
81 am my Aunt Deborah's shop-girl
at present. | always come here in
the evening to help her, BECAUSE"
she added, with q sweet shade Of
seriousness coming over her face,
''aunt was old and poor, and she
didn't quite know how to maintain
herself in independence; and, un-
fortunately, my wages at the factory
are not enough for us both. So | ad-
vised her to open this business and