Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-04-30
THORNS and ROSES.
BY THos. P. MoNTFoRD.
Srirht Iy AIN. .Ksllcgg Newspaper Co
 CHAPTER XxIV.

TWO QUIET YEARS
 The three days following my entrance into Mrs. Lawton's home were quiet, restful ones, and but for the great dis appointment that hung over my life like pail would have been happy. Mrs. Lawton was kind and gentle in the extreme, and from morning till night she busted herself to add to my comfort. Twenty times a day she sought me out, in order to assure her self that I was well provided for in whatever the house afforded that was calculated to make my stay more pleas ant.
 literally feasted on the many good books in the library, and the greater part of the three days I spent there boring over the volumes I liked best. felt that if I could only be privileged to enjoy that library for one long, un- interrupted month, could ask for no greater pleasure. The thought that the three days would so soon pass, and that then I must give up my easy life and the books, and take up life of work again, made me sad, and almost count ed the precious moments as they slipped by.
 often wondered what employment Mrs. Lawton could have for me, and in my anxiety to be informed on that point was several times very nearly tempted to ask. But I restrained my curiosity, resolving to await her own time and pleasure.
 The fourth day after my arrival as we arose from the breakfast table, Mrs. Lawton said to me:
 "Come to my room, now, Agnes, and we will come to final understanding, and decide what our relations are to be for the future"
 accompanied her, glad to know that my future was to be explained, yet feel ing little apprehension lest something should transpire to deprive me of my new home, to which I was already dearly attached. liked Mrs. Lawton very much, and to part from her would have been a source of painful grief
 Well, Agnes" she began, when she was seated in her own room, with me at her knees. Are you ready to decide whether you wish to remain with me or 'not?"
 ''I decided that the first day I was here," replied.
 And you still wish to stay?" she qucried.
 "Yes, ma'am," I answered, nothing could please me better; and if you are so good as to keep me l shall try my very best to please you and perform my duties well and faithfully"
 ''I told you the other day." she said, ''that am a queer woman; and l sus- pect you have found me so. Still, you do not know me now as you will when you are here longer. Perhaps you had better take another week to decide?"
 "No, ma'am," answered. "I am ready to answer now, and delay only makes me uneasy lest you should turn me away. If you can give me employ ment, and are disposed to do so, please do not hesitate on my account"
 "Very well," she replied. ''If you are satisfied, am, so you may consider | the matter settled"
 She relapsed into silence, seemingly having no more to say. I waited some time, then asked:
 ''Irs. Lawton, when am to begin my duties2"
 l 'What duties?" she asked.
 "Why, the duties you have employed me to perform"
 "Ah, now, I suppose"
 "Will you instruct me how to pro- ceed?" I questioned, as she paused again.
 "Why, you know that already" she replied. All you have to do is to gc on as you have the past three days, anc enjoy yourself as well as you can."
 Am to have no work?" I asked.
 "No," she answered. q have noth ing for you to do."
 "Then," said I, "I have no right tc stay. Ihave no claim on your charity and, rather than be burden to anyone I'd prefer to do any kind of work"
 You're not going to be burden Agnes," she replied; land there's nC charity in it. You want home and {; friend, and want some one to keep m' company and make my life more cheer full. We can each furnish that whicl , the other wants, and each of us is will ing to do so; and that is all there is O it. A mutual exchange, with balanc in your favor. You give more than yol receive"
 ''No," objected, ''you cannot deceiv me that way. I give nothing and re ceive aI."
 "You do not know what you give, = she said. 'You do not know what you , presence is to me. You remember told you had taken strange fancy t you? will tell you now why:
 "I once had a daughter about you age. My husband died when she wa small, and from that time she was m only companion and friend. My famil . disowned me when I married, an treated me with such coldness that never sought a reconciliation. So fo i: ] |A{I-7x x2|Z