The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1886-04-15

"No woman can take care of herself,
declared Mrs. Durrell, strongly. "She
needs husband and-and children. /
don't believe in single women ut all. But
it's no use talking with you, / suppose.
! Some folks don't know what's good for
them," with which she gave a ball of but
ter finishing slap, as If to give emphasis
| TO her words.
! Carrie quietly raised the green's in the
water and smiled placidly, her temper not
Mt all disturbed by her mothers imputation
concerning her perceptions; but the widow
would have had an apoplectic tit if she had
known all that was in her daughters mind.
LUIS school began Monday of the second
week after the conversation in the summer
kitchen, and Mrs. Durrell was never so
proud in her life as when she saw her
| fayorite daughter ride away with Squire
Raynor in his elegant cauopied phaeton.
Mark my word, she'll ride in that as her
own before the years out, she said to Car
RE, unless she's lost her faculty"
! Mrs. Durrell was one of those who
thought that faculty had quite as much to
do in getting folks married as sentiment.
Faculty ruled the world to her mind.
Some three weeks passed, when one
night Lu came home with flushed face
and anxious eyes.
swell, it's my last day of school," she
said, as she sat down with n sigh in the
large rocker by the window and famed her
| self
"Why, what is the matter, Lu?" aske'
her sister.
Squire Raynor's two boys are sick, and
| several others have left on account of sick
/ ness, and he told me this noon that he did
/ not deem it advisable to continue the term
any longer 1t is smallpox. so DIR. Jones
/ and tharp'S a tarriblp manic
Dear me, the smallpox Why, that's
perfectly awful" explained Mrs. Durrell.
Like enough we shall all have it, now you
have been exposed. There's nothing like
using every precaution," and the widow
caught up the camphor bottle, and sprinkled
them generously with its contents.
II do hope it won't spread" murmured
Lu. Il don't want to be peck marked for
| life"
Goodness knows, we don't want to be
down with it, and having coming on, and
all the hired help to take care of" eiacu-
| lated her mother. Il can stand some
things, but / couldn't that. wonder how
it happened to break out in the 'Squire's
! family
"He and little frankie were in Boston
two weeks ago, and | suppose the boy took
| the contagion some way. 1t seems real
hard for the Squire All his servants have
! left him and he cannot get anyone to act as
nurse for love or money. Not even Paulina
| Heath, the Poor Farm Hospital nurse, will
| risk her life at any price. He offered me
five dollars a week to so up and do what L
could"
"As if his children were anything to you!"
| cried the widow. "You been sure to have
caught the disease and perhaps have died
with it. You showed your good sense III
refusing to go"
Mother, said Carrie, very abruptly 81
| don't think it's Christian to let those chill
dren lie and suffer and not stir hand or foot
to save them. | think shall go to Raynor
Hall"
Mrs. Durrell gave gasp of incredulous
amaZement.
You go out to nursing Squire Raynor's
children? You must be crazy, Cad Dur
rell,"
II never was more sane in my life re-
| piled Cad. IF he succeeds in getting no
one else L shall go tomorrow. / am sure
it is my duty"
"Fiddlesticksl It's duty to take proper
care of ones self, and if you go up there
shall know you are not in your right mind. "
And Mrs. Dunell leaned back with hol-
low groan, looking as if she really had
doubts of her daughters sanity.
But Carrie was in earnest, and the next
morning she went up to the great house,
which seemed very still and deserted.
| Don't ever come back till you have had
it and got well, for l won't have you in the
house. It's running plump in the face OF
Providence, and that | don't believe one has
right to-" said Mrs. Durrell, as Carrie
/ rode away.
They were cold. cruel words, but the
| widow considered them eminently generous
and practical.
"Of course, she'll have it and die with it;
it will be just her luck. I'd just as soon go
and take dose of strychnine."
Carrie had but little time TO think of
herself or anything else, save her two little
patients. 1t was new work for her, but she
had kind heart and she was strong and
those qualities went great ways. She
made no mistakes, and she had n certain
| reserve power that made her services doubly
valuable.
Frank and Harry Raynor were very, very
i'll, and for days there was small hope of
their recovery. Squire Raynor hardly left
the darkened chamber, and only TO the
nurses and the old physician did he speak
n word. At the end of three weeks, however.
the disease turned and the doctor pro-
nounced the children out of danger
ut is owing more to your care than the
doctors skill, Miss Duuell," said the
Squire. "How shall 1 ever repay your"
You have paid me for my work; as for
the rest, it was my duy," said Carrie.
THE others did not think it was their
duty to risk their lives to save an old mans
two motherlcss boys" returned Squire
Raynor. sternly; "why should YOU have done
so? You are an angel and"
"Oh, no, Squire Raynor, only very
common piece of clay" answered Carrie,
Fastening away with scarlet cheeks.
But two or three weeks afterward, when
Frank and Harry were out at play for the
first time on the sunny lawn, and Carrie sat
in the porch doing crochet work, the Squire
came out and gazed thoughtfully at the
picture.
Boys" said he, at length, chow would
you like mother, real nice, new mother?"
ooh, ever so much, papa~ cried Harry;
chat is, if we could have Miss Durrtll.
"Oh, you silly boy" began Carrie, but
he was interrupted by the Squire. you
ave heard their verdict, Miss Durrell--
Carrie. You can make them happy. and
and | love you. Will you not stay, Carrie.
| my Carrie, and be mistress of Raynor Hall?"
! And before she had spoken he knew by
the look in her eyes that she would not re-
e l.