The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1888-05-12
WARDROBE TALK.
BY GRACE DEMO LITCHFIELD.

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Miss Minnie had just pushed to her
wardrobe door, and the low murmur of
silken talk that had ceased for minute
| as the young mistress's hand wandered
among the dresses, began again:
Il declare, I'm tired out" sighed the
warm scarlet-lined cloak that had Just
entered, as it sank back in weary folds
against the wall. But I've had glori.
GUS time I've been out on the skating
rink. Oh, we flew like birds oyer the ice,
but happy looks and gay words flew fas-
ter, and gathered stray sentence or
two to repeat to Miss Minnie the next
time she puts me on. never had any
thing to tell her before.''
'That's why she never cared for you,"
murmured a soft tulle dress out of it's
| cloud-like draperies. Now, she's very
fond of me. l tell her so much She
never looks at me but I whisper: 'Oh, do
| you remember that fair midsummer night
the last party OF the season?' And she
smiles dreamily and mods at me; and
tell her again of the sultry flower per-
fumed night, of the garden, of the weird
hanging lights, of the stars and of the
poem they repeated together-he and she
AS they walked to and fro beneath them
They could only remember it in part
just the very last two lines; but Miss
Minnie knows it all now, and loves it
passing we'll | have been to many par
ties besides, and danced myself to shreds
but never tell her much of any other,
Oh, she is very fond of me- l am the
poetry of her hfe."
"Bah ~ said rich silk, with stiff, in
dlgnant rustic, 81 am her record of social
triumphs, yet she never cares for any of
the compliments | repeat to her, though
| assure you l make her belle indeed,
and am most necessary to her,
Nay, pretty speeches are only pretty
from loved lips" said glossy gauze, sen.
tentiously. "Now | never try to remind
her of anything save of German we
danced together once, and chiefly of the
very last dance of all. Why, have talked
volumes to her about that single dance,
and oh, she loves me well, l am the uu-
finished romance of her life, and in me
only can it end.'
Stuff y calculated white opera cloak
rolling itself up into comfortable warm
| heap on the floor. "She loves me best
of you all, for go with her everywhere,
and many a snatch of golden words, a
lingering pressure of her gloved hand, a
quick farewell smile, have | told her of
again as We drove home together. And
as she draws me over her beating bosom
and buries her pink cheek in my downy
fur; oh, how much have | not told her of
that she will never, never weary of hear
ing again E! You may rely upon it, what
ever becomes of you all, Miss Minnie can
never throw me aside. You may laugh.
| know | am old and worn and moth.
eaten; but to put me on is to wrap her.
self in host of tender memories, to sum-
mon back the ghosts of sweet dead pleas
ures from many an unstoried grave to live
through again, one by one, days and
| hours and minutes that form epochs in
her life's short history. | am true and
trusted friend. She has hoped hopes in
me, dreamed dreams in me no one else can
| I,nox, an, har W, 70 Ji,,v Tow, ba
come au actual part of herself and shall
surely go with her into the tomb.'
"You are very stuck-up and self-im-
portant, | must say" put in slimsy
muslin, with limp, injured shake. "But
you haven't been in all her good times
Notwithstanding. To be sure that last
wash did for me and | can't go on again;
but for all that l am great pet of Miss
Minnie's. tell her such pretty stories
about a by-gone summer-stories of light
and shade, dew-drops, and hretiies, and
roses, and silences, and strange wild talks
all mingled in a wonderful web of silver
thought. She calls me her fairy story,
her mosaic dress, her jewel box, | am
made up of SO many pretty pieces of re-
membrance."
"Ah, but she wears me STILL" laughed
delicate grenadine, crumpling up with
delight and interruptiug the muslin with
hidden sweep of light rutfies. 81 am
her prime favorite now. Oh, she and
took such wonderful drive together in
the sunset while ago, and a walk in the
magic gray of the twilight, and in myself
| am whole chapter in her life. 1ou
others may belong to her past, but II
am her joyous, uneuded, never-to- been
ded present !"
Gay, in truth, belong to her past" "
softly murmured a blue wrapper from a
crowded corner. "A past of sorrow as
well as joy, illness as well as health; and
were the truth told, l believe she holds
me dearer than you all. For have lain
close to her heart when it throbbed with
pain and unrest and bitter trouble. Tears
have fallen over me, that have burned
through into her soul. Sighs have beer
breathed over me, that else only God has
heard. Yes, in the life history we weave
together, you tell of her gathered flowers
| of the thorns; you of her gladstone days
| of the sorrowful nights. | remind hel
of pain, of doubts, of dark sleepless
hours, of mental distress and physica
misery. 1t humbles her when she puts
me on. | show her herself as she is il
and of herself, apart from the deceiving
| nlitter and false liphts of tha world | an