The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1894-06-01
PHEBE'S LUCK.

Ss
great, bare, unfinished kitchen chamber.
There was a vyi.,ls volume Of spite in the
jerk which broke her thread, and she tied
it with al unnecessary tightness
Presently a weary step came toiling up
the narrow, winding stair. Phebe knew it,
and the frown was displaced by a smile.
When she turned to meet the mistress OF
the house, her smile made her beautiful,
but it was with a fierce, uncanny beauty
that repealed and startled the woman, so
that she stood still for a beside
the door.
Mrs. Lowe came forward and sank upon
the only seat in the room.
esquire Brainard's down stairs, and he
says he wants a girl to keep house for him,
and somebody recommended you to him.
/ should hate dreadfully to nave you go
away before all that's spun. 1 guess you'd
better stay about two weeks longer, hadn't
you? The squireu get along some way
till then"
But before Mrs. Lowe concluded the
above remarks Phebe was rapidly descend
ing the stairs.
"Well, I neverl She'll go as sure as the
world, and then what will Sampson say?"
Squire Brainard sat beside the window
of Mrs. loves keeping room. He was
tall, rather portly, somewhat bald, a well
to do man of 30, rich and INDECENT.
1t was said that he had been ruled by
his wife. But she had been dead now full
three months, and the squire was begin
ming to rebel against the household des-
potism of the Widow Plumly, whom Mrs.
Brainard had appointed head of the domes-
tic regime before her death
II beg pardon" he said. II wished to
see Phebe Cantwell, Mrs. loves maid. :"
No wonder he made the mistake. The
girl who stood before him, coarse though
her garb, had not one of the outward indi-
cations of se~vitude.
The courtly grace with which Squire
Brainard rose and handed her a chair, and
when she, with proud humility, refused
to sit, remained standing near her, was an
instructive and Involuntary homage to one
of natures born but uncrowned queens.
81 am Phebe Cantwell, =" she said.
81 had not expected-I-in short, I ex-
pected to find an-an older person. 1 wish
to engage a housekeeper. Could l prevail
on you, Miss Cantwell, to Gomez"
II will come, sir, " said Phebe, land I
hope all allowance viii be made for my
youth and inexperienced"
Phebe laid aside her Sunday garb and
went back to the hot kitchen.
She was shrewd enough to see the
squire's admiration of her beauty, and her
ambition Immediately scared high. Long
before the morning that witnessed her in
stallment at the Brainard mansion she had
determined that she would yet be mis-
f~occ uvhnra -ba orfaro7 nc carrran4
Her task was easier even thar she had
hoped. The servants, glad to be emanci-
pated from Mrs. Plumly's tyranny, obey
ed her promptly, the squire honored her,
and his eldest daughter, Mrs. Lee, then
on a visit'to her father, fell into ~ecstasies
about Phebc's beauty.
She insisted on sending for a young art
ist from the city to paint Phebe's portrait,
and as she limited to fall in love with and
marry one who would be such an excel
ent model for him.
Phebe had not the slightest idea of mar
rying a penniless young artist. She learn
ed all she could from him, and Mrs. Lee
accepted the gifts they had heaped upon
her and finally saw them depart with a
sigh of relief.
She confined herself strictly to her avo-
cations, spending all her leisure in her
own apartment and resisting all the
squirrels attempts to draw her into his So
ciety. So the summer passed and the early
and late autumn.
And winter came at last, and the squire
found himself very lonely in the long even
ings, when, tired of smoking his pipe and
doing over his newspaper, he fain would
have exchanged his dreams of Phebe for
her real presence.
One evening he drew her playfully to
his parlor. She did not resist, for she
thought it no longer necessary. She
thought matters were verging toward a
crisis and was quite prepared.
Had she known how far her thoughts
outstripped the squire's she might have
been less confident.
"Now, Phebe,' - said the squire, II want
you to spend the evening here. I am lone
ly, and I want your company. 1 wish you
would ONE here always of evenings just
as if you were my daughter. Why can't
you be like a daughter to me? Won't
you"
II can never be a daughter to you,
Squire Brainard, " she answered at length.
"You must, you shall, ~ he answered,
half bewildered, wholly fascinated. "You
must never leave me. I cannot part with
you"
There was no answer.
"Are you going to be married, Phebes"
blurted u the squire, with his eyes full
of tears.
mo, sir. Oh, no." and a blush glowei
over her brown cheek.
"Yes, you are-you are" and he fell
upon his knees beside her. You will mar
~ me. You will be my wife. Oh, Phebe,
will you not? You will love me a little in
return for all the love 1 give you, Phebe,
my darling"
OF course her answer was yes, with due
protestation and maiden timidity, and the
squire was transported with happiness.
He spent no more evenings alone, and
the pair were shortly after married, to the
astonishmsht of nearly everybody and the
scandal of the remainder.
To the still further establishment of ev-
erybody, Phebe made the squire a most ex-
cellent wife. She easily adopted the hab-
its of her new station and left behind those
of the past. She was a good wife, an ex-
cellent mother, and even Mrs. Lee &C
knowledged her to be an admirable step
mother.