Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1893-06-02


relation 10 Mrs. Panton.
The bed, covered with scanty blue
cotton quilt, had hung over IL an an
tiquated engraving Of Rapbael's est
Catherine" In the small bookcase
were q worn Testament and the
poems Of TcnnysoD and Of Byron, n
faded blue satin marker inside the
latter, while on the mantelpieuV were
curious Indian shells, such "a chill
dren love 10 listen TO, and photo
graph. yellowed with age, of hand
some young fellow In naval uniform.
Over this was pinned bunch Of
white everlastings.
Betsy took up the photograph and
busted It tenderly, laying 1t back
with sigh She guessed her mis-
tress' sorrow Of bygone years, and,
though she herself had no sympathy
with such things, yet, by q strange
concatenation Of ideas, this knowl
edge made her more than ever ten
der with Miss Mary now. Poor
soul poor soull" she murmured to
herself, as faint sounds proceeded
from the kitchen, and Miss Mary's
kind voice alternated with profuse
thanks from the mother of the 16 in
fants and the triplet.
Yes, Miss Mary had a romance--a
tenderly cherished, well nurtured ro-
nance, which was at once her delight
and her woe, and which grew but
stronger as the years wore on. At
20 she had loved sailor lad, a hand
some young naval lieutenant, who
had gone out to the West Indies and
had never returned There had been
a sort of tacit engagement. At any
rate Miss Mary had given away her
whole heart-so much so that she
had never had any of it to spare for
the suitors who came after. Stories
indeed reached her from time to time
about her love. People said he had
been wild. Some even limited that
he had deserted her. Miss Mary, in
her fond loyalty, refused to believe
these tales and chung, with quiver'
ing lip, to the idea Of his early death.
"Or if he be wandering about the
world somewhere, she said once, in
burst of unwonted confidence to
Betsy, ,''he may perhaps come back
one day"
why, you wouldn't know him aft
er all these years, even if he was
alive" said Betsy.
Know him OF course should,
said Miss Mary. He will find me in
the old place-he will know where to
come. So, dear Betsy, leave the door
always open"
But this Betsy firmly declined to
do. She was mot going to risk hav-
ing her wits frightened out Of her by
thieves" she declared, whatever
Miss Mary might say or do" So she
drew the line at the garden gate and
always left that unfastened. II this
ill advised proceeding give tramps
admittance into the tool house OF
coal cellar, why, what matter9 They
was Miss Mary's Goals. She might
do as she liked" Sometimes desti
tute old. ladies would use the coal
cellar as kind of casual ward and
condescend to spend night there
leaving the remains of their break
fasts and a few of their rags as pres
ents behind them. Betsy bore i,
all uncomplainingly, knowing what
Miss Mary's trouble" had been.
1T was a mercy" she thought to
herself, that it didn't take her in nc
other way"
But to Miss Mary herself the ''trou
BILE" in course of years became al
most joy. 1t faded from blood
red intensity to roseate afterglow.
She hugged herself, so to speak, with
the recollection of what had been.
Her youthful lover became brighter,
fairer, dearer even than ever he had
been in the faraway reality. She
envied not the lot of other women
with husbands, babies, grown up sons.
Their life partners were common.
place as compared with hers, glori-
fed into the regions of romance,
"orbed into the perfect star" Of 4C
years ago.
He was brave, handsome, chival-
rous," she would say to herself, men
tally comparing her lover of former
years with Mrs. Browns ,burly coal
merchant or Mrs. MINIS drunken
bOor.
And as for other women's babies,
their charms also paled by contrast
with Miss Mary's dream children.
The fond maternal feeling that Is the
basis of every true woman's life found
its echo even here, and the little old
lady's imaginary darlings helped to
make her days less empty. MY boy
Claude would have been just rs, my
daughter Emmeline just 20, and how
like her fatherw she would murpur
when in the glimmering twilight she
would imagine these treasures beside
her, in the land Of what might have
been" But Miss Mary's elation was
all for the solitude of her own heart.
;la bar nam esaka of old she hid all