Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1892-12-17


cdging, that cot a bargain at seven
cents yard. And Lois Ferrand has let
her have that new trunk, that never has
been used but four years, for four dollars
and barrel o turnips, off the farm, and
Jim has painted her name on the end,
'R. D. as clear aud nice as ever YOU
seen! With a hat fresh trimmed with
cherry ribbon, and a gray canvas hand
bag that cost seventy cents outen the
store, ana new Lisle thread gloves"
"Well, Isay fort, said Mary Mussell,
as Mrs. Dorrey was forced to pause for
sheer lack of breath, II guess the city
folks will calculate Ruth's relations is
pretty toIaole well of. Is that the stage
now?'
At the same moment Ruth Dorrev
came tiuttering in, pix checked and
smiling, in the Identical red cashmere
dress and cherry trimmed hat.
Yes, I'm really going to New York, "
said see, to pale, high shoaldered com
paniOn who had come in Unexpectedly
upon all this hustle of preparation.
"How did it come about? Oh, | don't
know, except that l waited on Miss
MarabOut when she was sick at the hotel
and she took such fancy to me, and
told me she'd make me her companion
maid if I'd come to New York this fall
And I've always SO longed to see what
the city is like, and she'll pay me deal
more thar | ever got in the kid glove
factory. And now that Nanny is old
enough to help mother with the poultry
and the butter"
A rumble of heavy wheels, cloud of
dust rapidly advancing up the road,
tumult Of goodbyes, aud then silence
settling down over everything.
The pale girl with the high shoulders
stood staring at the bend in the road
where the stage had disappeared; the
cosby neighbor drew long sigh of
relief and took up the pitcher OF vlnegir
she had come to borrow; the care-worn
mother threw her apron over her head
and began to cry.
"Oh, ! wish hadn't let her go7" she
sobbed. 81 never s'po,ed it would be
so awful lonesome with Ruth goue."
"Gone Has she gomez
"lcu're Jest too late, Jim Allen, "
said the cosby ncighbor. well.
swan! Did you fetch them go,deu-rods
an aster. blooms for herr"
"She liked goldeurods, stammerei
the tall young man who had entered.
IL didn't know the stage went by so
early. She might have let me know"
Mr.. Douey tossed her head.
"l0u was too positive with her. Jim
Allen, said she. "A spirited girl ike
our Ruth don't Ike to hey the laS laid
down ic her"
"Praps / hadn't orto spoke so &c.
cided," slowly uttered James Allen.
looking down at his bunch at flowers.
"But stick to what ! said. You
couldn't transplant one o. these ere
goldenrods to city yard and make it
grow. And-Ruth always liked golden
rods.
"Anyhow, you're too late, repeated
Mrs. Dorrey, with certain satisfaction
1t was late in the afternoon of that
day when Ruth Dorrey stood, travel
weary, vet flushed with soft excite,
ment, in the hall of Miss Marabout's
elegant mansion Gu Upper Fifth Avenue.
waiting for the supercilious man servant
to take here name to his mistress.
Never, in all the eighteen years of her
life. had Ruth looked upon a scene like
this-the great, tiIe-aoored hall, set
around with palms and -brauchei
rubber trees, and lighted with gold and
ruby CLEANS from stained glass case
ments-the wide staircase winding uo
past silent white statues and monster
jardinieles Of bloom-and over all soft
and perfumed hush.
Miss Marabout sat in her boudoir, at
tended by her dearest, most particular
friend, Miss Fidelia St. Care, aud the
two ladies were sketching out garden
party to be held at the sumner residence
of the latter which was to be the social
event of the waning season.
"People have done everything" said
Miss st. Clare, slowly waving carved
ivory fan, shut this will be something
has nobody ever dreamed of doing. D.
you think Gerald Kavanagh will lend us
his polo ponies, dear'"
''Dorreyl Ruth Dorrey!" slowly re-
peated Miss VI rabout, refiectlvely knit
ting her black brows. "0h, remember
now: It's that pretty little country girl
with the FORGET NE not eyes, out in Wan