The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-05-24
SELECTED STORY.
Miss MarY,s Secret.

boots not here to say, but the fact re-
mains that she was a spinster of the |
mature age of sixty years. But "ma-
ture " was never the right word to
apply to Miss Mary. She seemed al
WAYS immature. From her teens she |
had been docile, plant and easily led,
and now at sixty she still seemed hardly |
grown up She was still pretty, even
dainty to look at. Her snow white hair
was arranged as deity as it had been at
sixteen, and she blushed as readily now
as then.
Miss Mary Jones lived in a suburb
with only one servant, older than her.
self-Betsy Mills. Miss Mary was, so
report said, the daughter of sea cap
tain and had been i" brought up for
lady," but nobody knew much more of
her than this. Betsy Mills was close,
and Miss Mary was not given to gossip
but as the local parance went, kept
herself to herself"
The two women lived in one of those
ugly little four-roomed, semi-detached
"villa residences " which abound in
unfashionable suburbs, with an unin-
viting looking strip of lawn and oyster
shells in front and an equally unpleas-
ant slug ridden plot behind. But Miss
Mary, who was fond of gardening, had
trained pretty yellow jessamine over
the rickety porch, and she liked the
oyster shells because "they reminded
her of the sea-"
Betsy Mills, hard-featured, tall
old woman, as lean as a scarecrow,
though she was hard as adamant TO
everyone else, rarely spoke otherwise
hon opft1ty tn har Sha htr-
mored her fads, respected her weak
nesses and never scolded her except
when necessary. Miss Mary" she
always called her, with almost tender
infection in her voice, and hence the
neighbors also never spoke of her as
anything else than Miss Mary"
Miss Mary was charitable to fault.
Her house was very refuge of the
destitute. To it tlocked all the beggars
and imposters in the neighborhood,
sure of relief. No tale was too feeble,
no story too disjointed, to impose upon
this tender-hearted old lady. Betsy,
who saw through everything, and who
was made of material as stern as Miss
Mary's was soft, regarded herself as
shield interposed by heaven to protect
her mistress, who would otherwise long
ago have flung her whole substance to a
crowd of greedy beggars. But even
she could not prevent Miss Mary's
continual raids on the scanty larder.
"Ye'd leave nothing at all for yer
self" she grumbled, "if | didn't look
after yer ike mother aud be forever
at yer back"
Miss Mary would occasionally pick up
lost children whom she found crying in
the streets aud bring them home, to
Betsy's indignation and her own con-
fusion, for they would generally sit
crying after the manner of lost children
and refuse to eat until called for by
their parents. Through this same
charitable oflicousness Miss Mary once
found herself in the position of nearly
having parish baby saddled upon her
altogether, but this Betsy refused to
allow, putting her foot down firmly for
once. "She amt nothing but baby
herself, bless yer, SIR" she informed
the police sergeant on that memorable
occasion. But the fact was, Miss Mary
had softer heart even than usual
where children were concerned.
"Oh, Betsy" she said, hurrying up
to her ''mentor" with tears in her
eyes, L" here's a poor woman come to
the door with matches. She's got a
drunken husband and sixteen children
one of them a triplet-all of tender
ages"
"Sixteen has she? Ali that's one
thing they can all ave" grumbled
Betsy, unmoved, as she wendell her
way up stairs with her broom.
There was diplomacy in Betsy's
departure. If Miss Mary would give
away the poor contents of the larder
again, let her not be there to see. A
set of greedy, grasping wretches! Mu-
tinous, she seized the broom with vigor
and began to sweep her mistress bed
room. 1t was plain, unpretending
little room enough, everything neat.
but very old, the paint worn off every.
where, but scrupulously tidy and old
maidlsh, with sort of character of its
own that bore no relation to Mrs. Pan
ton.
The bed, covered with scanty blue
cotton quilt, had hung over it an anti.
quated engraving of Raphael's est
Catherine" In the small bookcase
were worn Testament and the poems
of Tennyson and of Byron, faded blue
satin marker inside the latter, while or
the mantelpiece were curious Indian
shells, such as children love to listen
to, and photograph, yellowed with
age, of handsome young fellow il
naval uniform. Over this was pinned
bunch of white everlastings.
Betsy took up the photograph anC
busted it tenderly, laying it back with {
sigh. She guessed her mistress sor
row of bygone years, and, though she
herself had no sympathy with suct
things, yet, by strange concentration
of ideas, this knowledge made her more
than ever tender with Miss Mary now
"Poor soul! poor SOUL" she murmuret
to herself as faint sounds proceeded
from the kitchen, and Miss Mary's kint
voice alternated with profuse thanks
from the mother of the sixteen infants
and the triplet.
Yes, Miss Mary had a romance
tenderly cherished, well nurtured TO
nance, which was at once her deligh
and her woe, and which grew bu
stronger as the years wore on. A
tNun hn Hal Ia