Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1892-03-26
BETSEY'S IDEA.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.

Mrs. Kybers's drawing-room mad
never looked loveiier than on this raw
December afternoon. Long-slemmed
roses in Royal Worcester vases, threw
out fragrant hints of June; camel
coal fire blazed in huge colonial fire.
place, and Lillian's hair flashed back
its golden wires, half hidden by fam
tastic Roman scarf.
Opposite the window. strange,
weird landscape in oils occupied the
place of honor. Many an artist owed
his life's success to entering the "Roy-
al Road" through Mrs. Kyber's after
noon receptions and the obscure des-
ciples Of art WED with each other for
her favor.
The room was full of people, quiet
of voice, elegant of attire. Mrs. Ky
Der stood by the doorway, smiling
and gracious.
Lillian, at the other end of the
room, was dispensing bread and
butter, orange-pekoe tea and brown,
frothing chocolate, and as the guests
came and went, Mrs. Kyber was men,
tally coming to the agreeable conclu-
sion that her afternoon was success,
when suddenly her "dearest foe," one
Mrs. Magnus Marlindale, fiuttered up
to her.
"Good-by, dear!' she said. $50
glad your rooms are so full! But YOU
always did attract people,
"Thauk you'll" said Mrs. Kyber,
serenely.
"And it's so ridiculous, isn't it,"
added Mrs. Martindale, adjusting the
fifth button of her glove, 'rhat you
and should have Glanced to fix upon
the same evening for our rcception?"
OTIS rather a coincidence" observed
Mrs. Kyber.
"But then, You see, Signora Sivardi
could only come to me on Tuesday.
And Signora Sivardi is such an at
tractionI Good byI l really mustn't
keep the horses waiting any longer"
Mrs. Kyber's cAAr had risen, and
then paled. She looked at Lillian.
Lillian returned the glance with inter-
est, even while she gave old Miss
Pooley cup of chocolate and listened
to Doctor Drowelrs tedious remin-
iscences of his last trip to Egypt.
Mother" she whispered, as she
came past, carrying some sponge cakes
TO lady in the corner, who seemed
temporarily neglected, "as true as you
live that woman has offered Sivardi
more than we did, and the singer has
thrown us over"
And Mrs. Kyber only responded by
a look of despair.
While the lady in the corner was
eating her sponge cakes and drinking
amber-clear tea, Lillian ran up stairs to
the big western bedroom.
"Betsey," she cried, cheerfully,
"here is some chocolate and cake for
you, since you won't come into tie
drawingroom."
A round faced, dark eyed girl of
twenty sat curried up in the window
seat, staring out at the leaden sky.
1t was Betsey Bloom, a second
cousin of Miss Kybcr.
"Me!" echoed Betsey, with an i'm
patient movement of her shoulders
ain the drawingroom? | should look
pretty there, shouldn't l? But all the
same, Lillian, it's real good of you to
ask me. Mother said you city folks
would be ashamed of me, but you are
not-not a Bit"
Lillian sat down beside her on the
window seat, and put her arm caress-
ingly around the ill-gowned waist.
"Betsey," said she, "you've been
crying"
''No, hain't!"
"Yes, Betsey, you have. Tell me
what the matter is"
1.-The matter is, cried Betsey, "that
I'm failure! I've got to go back tc
Cocklctown and own up that I'm beat.
l thought 1 was going TO make 6
living in New York, and | hain't nc
show at all. thought, cause could
sing in the church choir, that could
give lessons and get engagements
here. But can't!7
"But you have a sweet voice, Bet.
sey!"
$50 have nine hundred and ninety.
nine other people. And I'm onl,
Betsey Bloom Of Cockletown, and
never shall be any one else if live t
be hundred. So I've made up m,
mind that I'll go back, and 90 int
the mill, or get place to teach TIN
district school. And there's an ent
of all my dreams about a c-c-carcer!'
And Betsey's big round tears trickle,
down her cheeks, and the end of lie
nose grew purple, like an under-rip,
plum.
You an your ma We been awfu
good to me, Lillian" whispered she
81 won't never forget it. know In
an awkward country girl, aud know
that my clothes amt up to the New
York mark, and | don't even pro
nounce my words like you do: but
but you've treated me gust as if | wa
aqueenl"
"Don't cry, Betsey," soothed Lii
ian. "Drink this hot chocolate. an,
then lie die on the sofa and rest
You're tired and nervous"
81 don't know about being ner
vous'" snorted Betsey, "but l an
tired. guess you'd be tired a-tramp
in up and down to educational bu
reaus, and intelligence offices. an,
musical Headquarters and ali tbo+ ca.