The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1895-11-16

| the house. But | used to sit at
"a the table and look at the people and
III think out the stories to suit myself
"A There was little old man who ate
dinner as if he feared grim death
were after him, and, between the salad and
the pie, read a scientific paper. There
were couple of young men, just at the
age when fancy scarfs and fine clothes are
of great Importance. There were two or
three old maids, two or three married
couples and the usual riffraff that 90 to
make up the average boarding house.
When she came and was placed opposite
me at the table, her fresh color and general
air of youth and happiness interested me.
She had all the quaint little ways of the
girl from the extreme South, and one day
| heard her telling the landlady that she
did not expect to be there very long, and
that she wished they would be more care
full about getting her letters up to her room
just as soon as they came.
She had bit of room on the top floor
and the boarding house maid is not usually
very anxious to be over polite to the people
who are up so near to heaven. However,
she was so pleasant, that she melted even
the stony heart OF the lady who governed
the place, and was willing to swear that she
had given you a large piece of pie, when it
was about the size OF an ordinary egg.
Several times met her down. town, look
ing as bright as possible, with roll of
manuscript in her hand and an air of being
able to control the world. Not disagree
able air, you know, but just that happy,
grlish look that means certainty. One
morning she had stuck in her belt Il bunch
of old fashioned flowers down home they
call them 'bleeding hearts" and | was
perfectly sure they had come to her, done
up in cotton. from the far South. As the
days went on we smiled at each other, and
after while the acquaintance got to be SO
that we bowed on the staircase. Then she
heard me speak of well known novel; and
| saw by the look in her face that she
would like to read it, so offered it to her.
When she came in to get it she brought me
Il bunch of the blossoms and told me they
had been sent to her from South Carolina.
Gradually the little story came out. 1t
was this. She was one of large family of
children, had been the belle and the beauty
Of the small town in which she lived; and
just think of it, was engaged to be married
to young man who, as she described him,
lis the very dearest fellow in the world, "
but you know, he comes of very old
family, and it would be perfectly ridicul-
Gus to expect him to do any work, and |
thought so many women made money with
their pencils that could come on here and
make lot OF money, aud then go back
home and furnish Il house SO that we could
get married.
The suggestion on my part that it did
not hurt men to work, and they ought to
do it for the woman they love was met
with this answer: son, well, you see
you people here don't look at things as we
do. He is gentleman you know, and it
would look badly for him to take small
salary and, as he has never been trained to
work, he could not get large one.
don't mind. am mighty glad to think |
can make money" How much had she
made? She had taken her drawings to the
well-known magazines; nobody wanted
them. Down home she painted lilies
and roses so that people could not tell
them from the real ones, and was con-
sidered feminine Raphael; but here
somehow-she was certain it was not be
cause her work was bad, they seemed to
have more work on hand than she had ex,
pected they would.
The days went on, and gradually there
came in her face the look that is in the
faces of so many women; the look that tells
of deferred hope; the look that tells OF a
daily disappointment, and yet she laughed
and was hopeful and blushed over hel
letters as she read them at the breakfast
table, for she could not wait until she got
upstairs Nobody ever saw her out OF
temper, or, indeed, anything but kind and
loving. At last she told me she had an
engagement 1t was to do illustrating fol-
a great paper; it was not for picture, il
was just to draw designs for frocks in some
big factory. She was essentially artistic,
and if she could see bit of material, the
creative sense in her was so strong that
from it beautiful frock would be devel
oped before her mind.
They were going to pay her So Il week
Her board was : and wondered where the
rest Of the money that she needed was tc
come from. But she worked along and
hoped, as only a woman can who loves a
man dearly, and who looks forward to q
happy future. Some days she looked tired
too tired to care for anything
One day did not see her. | asked for
her, and was told that she was not well,
and that Maria, the cross Scotch maid,
disagreeable to every body except this one
girl, had taken cup of tea up to her.
l went up and tapped on the door. She
was lying ON the tiny cot with her face
covered with her beautiful hands through
which the tears were streaming. The poor
| LITTLE story was soon told Miserable ne