Daily Yellowstone journal., 1889-11-06
SISTER MILLICENT.

Sister Millicent lived all alone in a
curious stone house on the outskirts OF
poor little village. She had come TO
inhabit il some thirty years before,
and since then no one had seen her
face, for the reason that she wore upon
il a black silk mask trimmed with
lace, which revealed only a pair OF
large, dark eyes. For the rest her
dress was something like that of a
nun, straight and black, with bonnet
and veil when she went abroad, and
within doors a sort of cap that con.
cealed both head and throat. No one
ever heard her whole name. On her
arrival she held an interview with the
two clergymen of the place, and told
them her story, which neither of them
could be induced to reveal in detail.
However, il was said by many that
she was an unhappy wife, into whose
face a jealous mistress lad thrown
vitriol. disliguring her for life. "
She was rich, and had expressed
her wish to assist the poor of the
place with her money, to nurse the
sick and to perform all the duties of a
Sister of Charityto those who suffered,
whatever their religion, whatever
their condition, without asking if they
were worthy or unworthy.
AT he. door hung a little box into
which letters might be slipped asking
for aid. In her house was a little room
where she received all who desired TO
talk with her. She had a store of sim.
pile remedies which she used in minor
cases; in others she sent for good doc
tors. No n ever appealed to her in
vain. For thirty years she had been
looked upon as a saint or an angel
rather than as a human women, and
still she continued her deeds Of char
ity, OF self remuneration, without ever
giving any symptoms Of WEAKNESS OF
mind or body, though it was supposed
that she must by this time have arriv.
ed upon the borders of old age.
Ii was late in the afternoon of a cold
autumn day when the wind was hard
at work sweeping the last leaves from
the great oaks that stood before Sister
Millieent's little house, that a knock
sounded upon the door-a tremulous
blow, that seemed to the good woman's
experienced a TO speak Of an aching
heart fastening to open it she saw
before her a lady in fashionable trav
cling dress, who fell into her arms.
"Alarionl' she cried. ''can it be Ma.
rionf'
"Yes, Aunt Millicent, it isl. sighed
the young lady, land | have come to
you in great and terrible grief. You
who are so merciful to strangers will
comfort me, | know. You told me to
come TO you if w | needed a friend
i need one now"
Sister Millicent replied by taking
her hand in hers.
''What has befallen your" she ask.
ed You do not wear the garb Of
widowhood."
Il am not a widow" said the lady,
bursting into tears, but my husband
has deserted me; he has gone away
with another woman"
CHARLES Auchester, then, is not bet.
ter than other men, said Sister Mill.
cent, sadly.
"We were very happy" sobbed the
poor wife. until she came"
She always comes" sighed Sister
Millicent.
"She was a singer, a bold. bad wo.
man, with a splendid voice. The
~elopement is the talk of the town.
said Marion Auchester. 'He left me
well provided for. with a line house
and a good income of my own. but
refuse 10 accept his money. | will moi
inhabit his house"
"You are right" said Sister Mill.
cent
..My friends advise me to get a di
vorce,' said Marion, but | am his
wife, though he has wronged me.
refuse 10 free him. | cannot endure
the pity. the curiosity of the people
have known under other circum.
stances. i ran away from them like O
thief in the night Had | parents oI
children, l could not have done this,
Of course. hut | stand alone in the
world. Will you take me in and LEI
me live with your | will do us you
bid. will keep your house, help you
nurse your patients, teach the poor
children-anythlng, if you will but
hide me here. You are my only rela'
tive. know your story; we can now
sympathize with each other"
''My home is yours, said Sister Nil,
licent, ''and ! am glad in my old age
To find one who will help me in my
work and solace me in my solitude"
From this time on the poor Of the
village began TO see that Sister Mill
cent had a companion, a young wo
man who did not veil her sweet, sad
face, or cover her bright hair, but who
otherwise wore the same black garb,
and who was her assistant in all hei
labors. For more than a year they
worked together, their tall, slender fg'
ures moving side byside down the vii.
lage street with the same graceful
step, 80 much alike in general effect
that those who saw them could but be-
lieve that Sister Millicent had once
resembled Sister Marion in feature.
And great WA the grief OF the poor
when one morning the cottage was
closed against all but the physician,
and il was known that some sudden
illness had befallen one of those good
ladies'"
A few days later the doors Of the
cottage opened. A small funeral pro
ccssion emerged therefrom, and @
burial took place in the graveyard.
Then sister Millicent one more ap'
peared in her mask and veil She wal
more silent and less cheerful than oil
unre. hut her rood works knew NO