The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1889-08-30
MISTRESS OR MAID.

ter clothing when heard Richards voice
from the foot of the stairs.
"Caroline there is a young lady waiting
to see YOU"
noticed a slight hesitation before the
word Gladly
"Who is it; lady did you say9' Iasked
as descended the stairs.
''She isn't dressed in satin and velvet,
but | think she is lady," replied Richard,
who has odd notions about some things.
"One of the relief committee, perhaps"
| said, after he had told me that he had
found her at the door when he came home,
and that she had inquired for me by name.
s'Whoeyer she may be, one may trust the
clear light that shines from the windows of
her soul, " replied Richard.
knew what he meant when she turned
her large gray eyes full upon me. One
might we'll call them windows, | thought,
as | looked into the clear, honest depths.
Only innocence and truth could be seen
there. She was fair and slender; not angu-
lar, but delicate, like one recently recov-
cred from illness, and slight stoop in the
shoulders indicated weakness, or life of
toll. did not think of this at the time:
only looked into the expressive eyes and
listened to the sweet, low voice. She had
heard that wanted nurse-girl, and came
She had but recently come from the Prov
inces. She loved children, and thought
she could be trusted with them. Her
mother had left the younger brothers to
her care since she was ten years old.
''If you will be patient with me, ma am,
/ think can suit you, }" she said. 'sMother
says I'm slow, and can't take to new ways
easily; but, if you don't get worried with
me"-she nearly said ''cross"-'Im sure
| can learn your ways. always get flus-
tered if people worry, ma am
To be asked to be patient, to be caution
ed against worry, was new experience.
was not quite ready to employ monitor.
hesitated, and finally asked her to call
tho following morning for my answer.
Richard had been so fayorably impressed
by the girl that before dinner was over |
had decided to engage her. found she
had no friends in the city, only James, =
an old schoolmate from home.
"Of course you know | cannot allow him
to visit you here" | said.
"Ma'am?" inquired the sweet voice in
real surprise.
Il cannot allow your friend to call upon
You here" repeated.
"Where shall / meet him, Them she
asked innoeently.
I'm sure don't know" | replied. sit
would be better for you not to see him at
ALL"
"Ma'am?" she said again, but with such
pain in the voice that thought it best to
change the subject.
Mandy Driscoll proved treasure. The
children loved her from the first, and after
| few weeks l left them entirely to her
care. She was very unselfsh, willing to
spend and be spent in their service. She
grew round and rosy, and her pleasant face
Take care of that GIRL" said my moth
err ''Ier face may be her misfortune.
"Oh, trust Mandy I replied. ''She
is as innocent as the children"
'Perhaps too innocent Is she often
outs'
''Only Sunday and Thursday evenings.
She is a regular little church-goer, | an
swered.
mother s'She's far too pretty for a girl
in her position"
A year passed, and Mandy seemed quite
content in my home. There was little oc-
casion to IVORY" the child, had been SO
inclined; and had ceased to have an anx-
ious thought about her She seemed to
have no interest apart from my own, and
proved so trustworthy that had allowed
her to assume almost the entire care OF the
house. After the children were asleep she
was free to pass the evenings as she pleas
ed; and, as social duties filled my own
time, knew little of her movements. She
Hdu sttHttu 50 tuoiousnit SchtStt, tu.ap
when she announced her INTENT to leave
me. l was greatly surprised
Leave mel" | exclaimed. "Why,
Mandy, you are as necessary to us as the
fire, or the gas. We can't get along with
out you.
But she was firm. She must go home.
Perhaps-she seemed not sure-but per-
haps she would come back some time. |
saw that it gave her pain to leave MS. and
ceased to urge her to remain. There was
probably some family reason, some trouble
that size was unwilling to explain, told
Richard.
"Perhaps she is to be married, he sug-
gested.
''Oh, no; she has no followers. She is
too much of child to think ofmarrying,
| replied.
But there came to me the recollection of
the schoelmate whom she had not men-
toned during the year she had been with
us. Her devotion to the children had
probably taken the place OF that friendship,