The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1885-11-12

steel dinuer- knife, folded the most delicate
napkin she had in a f~anciful way aud
stuck il up in an egg-shell tumbler, and
last touch OF al, placed a tiny vase with
| one ~balf-opened rosebud in the center.
That day the food was tasted, and from
| that time the trays taat went into the
sick-room were daintily and tastefully
arranged.
The invalid was doing well, and every
hope was entertained that she would re-
cover, but suddenly there was a 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 infor that they blamed the woman
In charge.
She walked directly into the room.
"Please tell me, DR.. Jarvis" she said
earnestly, "did 1 understand you hat it is
the fault of the nurse that this relapse has
occurred!"
Now DR.. Jarvis lad known Marg;e from
the cradle, and he looked at her for a mo-
ment.
ST don't say this nurse is not as careful
as any of her class, but of course no hired
person can have the interest and take the
care that a friend would do. I think she
would be better for a little oversight
doctor, do you think-could I be of any
use?" came tremblingly from her lips.
SSlU Ii huI utfi Il . VI uSCs
If you only kept watch of the medicines,
I and saw that orders were obeyed, you
would be of great use; you might save her
life."
room, put on a soft wrapper, and when the
doctor returned he found her installed in
| tho sick-room.
Her step-mother, so wasted and CHASTITY,
| did not know her, and Margie went freely
about the room, dariiening a blind that
l olr,rIfa1 1ntf IN lNne fnoA 0nlnnEhInn tho
bed clothes, bathing the burning face and
hands. DR.. Jarvis gave his orders about
medicine and treatment to her, and from
that moment she took charge.
The first time her father came in he
started at seeing her, bat as she was at the
moment engaged in attending to the pa
TENTS wants he said nothing, only looke
at her sharply to see her object.
Margie was not an experienced nurse,
but she was a bright girl, and her awak-
| ened conscience and remorse mad her
| quick to observe and very watchful. This
close care was better than technical know
ledge, under the circumstances, and the
| patient improved at once. The doctor
commended her on his next visit, and be-
fore the end of a week announced the sick
woman out of danger, thanks to the watch
full, intelligent care of Margie.
She had a talk with her father, too, and
when argie was leaving the room that
evening to eat her dinner, she met at the
kOO1 hCi ouICh VIZ toOh hCi w IL
his arms and kissed her, saying, brokenly:
"My darlingi Now you are like your
blessed mother. Do not remember the
hard words I said the other day. was
beside myself with pain"
so, papa!" cried Margie, with emotion
equal to his own, .'you were right! 1 de-
served them. Do forgive me!"-and hur-
ried away to indulge in one more cry-this
time of joy.
In the calm way in which the very Ill
49, - i, a,a @I,o g.
had accepted Margie's ministrations. II
at first recognition she was surprised, she
was too weak to say so, and before she
could talk much she had seen that Margie
was won.
Perhaps, too, she had reson to know
more of her character than was suspected,
for a strange and overwhelming revela-
tion came TO Margie a little later.
She was able to sit up, and after Margie
had helped her into a pretty wrapper, and
the nurse had drawn her easy chair up to
the window that she might look out and
see the coming of spring, in fragrant ap-
pie blossoms that glorifed a tree in the
yard, she asked Margie to take a key from
her drawer, and get her something out OF
her desk.
The nurse had left the room, and Margie
opened the desk. There, lying open, as il
just signed and ready to fold, lay a letter,
such as she knew well. The handy writing
was familiar in every line; the name was
| oiShCu 1ohl tIi
She stood a moment, thunderstruck, the
lid of the desk in her hand. In all her
conjectures as to the author of the letters,
she had never thought of her s~tep-mother.
She looked around; she saw her discov-
cry was known. A great love and pity
and tenderness were in the face she had
nursed back to life; tears were in the eyes,
too, and the wasted arms opened earnest
ly.
-- 81 ,orII4 $50, l.,, 1.1-
A great wave of feeling rolled over Mar
gie-pride, shame, remorse, pain, love,
respect, all in one great sweep.
She hesitated-she yielded. The cover
dropped, and she was on her knees beside
the friend-the step-mother. She buried
her face in her lap, she sobbed aud wept
and could not speak, while the gentle, thin
hands stroked her hair, and words broken
by tears fell from Ter lips.
500 not feel so. my dearI hoped
could make you love mel wanted it abovc
all things-I wanted to fill that vacant
mother-place to you'll want you for my
daughter"
"Can you ever-ever-forgiye me?'
sobbed poor Margie. $50 u n
grateful-so"-
"Do not say more, Margie," interrupted
the tender voice Of her step-mother, "don'
SPEAK o. the past-that is all over. Let IL:
begin again on a higher basis. If have
won q daughters love, 1 shall regret II:
pain in the winning"
She had most completely won a daugh'
ter's love. Margie gave to her who hal
been the source of all her new pleasure!
the tender nam of Mother" and sht
even had the ~magnanimity to confess tt
the girls who had stood by her all through
what a fatal mistake she had made, anC
how near she had come, through Der owl
pride and folly, to throwing away the hap
piness of her own life, and wrecking tha'
Of her father as well.-N. Y. Examiner.