New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1897-08-08
DO you flourish. Frances"


DO you flourish. Frlnces?"
The visitor had come from much grander re-
gions and had just said she had met with
fewer difficulties in getting to Jerusalem last
year than in finding this little street. She looked
much too big for the small room that she sat
in. and her voice. though hearty. held a little
doubt.
Frances O'Rell sat on the floor and looked up
at her caller.
Il have no boarders to see this improperly"
she said: 'and it is comfortable. Then
oh Kathic business is very bad!
How is that? Do you starve your people. or
do YOU let them wax fat and kick? Or do you
not get any? Your neighbors do very we'll.
She was looking out over the top of the win
dow-fern and rcmarking the clash of the OPP
poste gates. and the heads bobbing up the
steps Then she turned. put her hands square
" on her knees and looked down upon Frances
sitting on the rug.
You dear little Irish soul. you have all the
courage in the world. and none Of the luck
Give in. now won't you, and come back sensibly
to your brother and the rest Of u.s.
But Frances shook her head.
Il can't get on with his third wife, she said
II bore with the first and just endured the
second but this one l cannot stand So have
gone into business and | will never strike my
coors"
You are a plucky goose" said the visitor
But will tell you why YOU don't succeed on
have seen your neighbors at their windows
one is a jolly old thing Of fifty. who could quite
well tuck up her boarders in their beds The
other is skinny and impressive. Both look re-
sponsible. and both wear caps. You aren't
motherly. my Frances and you are much too
young.
II am as old as the hills said Miss O'Ren.
getting up from the floor and seeking dignity
and | only take in ladies'"
Her visitor laughed.
OH she said then you don't look your age
Honestly. Frances. your wild black hair Is ter
ribly against you. People require gray hairs,
know they do: and have no confidence in any
color Didn't the old woman in Ireland call your
hair a devils glory. and do you expect to see
paying guests crowd round such an aureole?
Wei. | suppose | must be- trotting. Believe me.
my dear You won't succeed with these crazy
raven locks,'
She departed, looking oddly up and down at
the queer Snug houses. And when she was quite
gone Frances O'Rell went socmnly upstairs, and
sat down in front of her looking glass.
1T is true" she said. 1T frightens them all
away. They want an elderly person. and am
very elderly. but my hair deceives them am
old old old aud my heart is gray with trouble,
but my hair keeps black. 1t is a fraud"
She pressed her face closer TO the glass. 1t
was a small, thin face that looked pinched in
deed as the color faded but the wild rim of hair
was as dark as it had ever been when cheeks
were red and pulses had gone quicker. There
was no single gray hair to be found in those
black meshes Any oil maid having such hair
might be triumphant. But Frances had taken
a great dislike to the dark hair she had been
proud Of long ago.
Il am thirty-eight," she said. "My mother
had coal-black hair at sixty. Nobody sees my
because of this hair of mine. When my heart
was broken with sorrow, when the long months
and the years that came after found me
crushed and miserable could they not blanch my
hair? why can't | look as old and trouble
worn as / feel?'
She twisted her hands nervously in and out.
1t was maddcnng She had departed proudly
from her brothers house and the third new
wife She had gone with her head in the air,
proof against the unlikelihOod Of business pros
pering, and determined, in herself never to go
meekly back.
Three answers had come to her last advertise
ment. The applicants came in person, and en-
vious glances had been shot through the cur