The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1897-08-13

said, in a bewildered way.
Spare you," said Miss Alvira. scorn
fully. II could do in an hour all you'v,
done to-day. You do as tell you"
The girl obeyed without word. She
lay down on the old haircloth sofa OF
the other side of the room. Miss AL
vira brought pillow from the bedroom
and awkwardly tried to fix it under
her head; then she sat down by the
window and began sewing. She sat
very stiff and straight, and her stitches
were firm and even. Jessie, lying pas
sively on the sofa and watching the
prim little figure with it's uncompro.
missing, almost defiant, air, closed her
eyes wearily. 1t tired her to watch her
asleep.
Miss Alvira put aside her sewing
quilting her needle neatly in the work
and then went over to the sofa and
stood looking down at the girl. She
was more beautiful than ever in her
sleep. for one saw only the witchery of
the exquisite curves of lashes and
checks and chin. and the delicate
beauty of her coloring, and did not feel
the lack of expression. Miss Alvira
stood for long time studying it all.
Then she turned away with sort of a
groan.
She went back to her place by the
window, but she did rot take up her
sewing. Then the sun had slipped far
ther to the west, and n cool, gray shad-
ow was creeping over the tiny yard.
The fence was no longer dazzling white
A tiny breeze had sprung up and was
lifting the head of a flower here and
there. Miss Alvira folded her hands and
sat up straightcr than ever. She was
going to fight this thing out.
Its George Harkins she Means" she
said. lies likely young fellow; he'll
be real good to her, guess, and she'll
have an easy life of 1t and grow pret.
tier and happier every day. And here's
me, Alvirey Simpkins, jest living here
in this little box of a place, making
the covering for other folks lives and
havin' no life of my own. It's all SO
narrer and scrirHpy; allus did hate
working in a pint pot. My very name
sounds like snippings-nothing new
and fresh" Suddenly she sat up
straighter and spoke louder, as If to
some invisible opponent. Look here,
Alvirey Simpkins-what are you going
to do about it? Do you suppose moping
around and wishing you were young
nsr, ~;
and black hair is going to make things
any better? And what would you do
with a man tagging round all the time,
I'd like to know? ~Twould fret you to
death, and you know it. Amt you n
heap better off earning your own living
in your own way and not being be-
holden to nobody? You know you are"
Her voice changed from its fierce con-
tempt, and there was a pleading tone
in it no one had ever heard; she would
not have recognized it herself. But it's
the loneliness of it," she said, nights
and rainy days, and times when the wind
is bowling across the sward, and not a
soul comes in, and there's nothing but
the clock ticking, till it seems as If
should go wild. And 1 can't stop it,
neither. I tried it once, and twas SO
still it scared me. 1 never could bear
to have cat under foot, even if it would
be company. 1 wanted suthin' human
and understanding. 1t doesn't seems
if that was so wicked"
The wistfulness in her tone crept into
her figure; there was something hum
Bile and pleading in her whole atti-
tude. 1t was only for a second, how
ever; then she Strengthened up and
spoke in her old, quick, scornful man
ncr.
"Wcll, l didn't think you was sech a
poor, meching thing as that, Alvirey
Amt people ever lived alone
before you, want to know? And be-
Sides" changing to n grave seriousness,
Il s'pose, someways, there isn't love
enough to go round. Can't you stand it
better than pretty, useless little thing
like that"
The summer days passed as if in a
dream after that. There was an un-
reality about them that confused and
abashcd Miss Alvira, who had been used
to dealing with plain facts, and facts
alone; but she had never in her life
been so happy as she was in that sum
mer romance. Her very face changed
under its touch. The neighbors could
not understand, but they all spoke of
it, and said how well Alvirey was look
ing.
After that night Jessie told her every
thing. The girl was scarcely more than
a child, and had TO tell some one, and
she could have had no better or safer
confiGlante.
1t was strange friendship, truly, but
night after night Miss Alvira would
watch the two walk away together, and
then would sit through the dusk and
far into the dark, thinking over all
Jessie had told her during the day, and
living the love-life she had never had,
in the life of this girl.
She thought and worried about 1t far
more than Jessie. If George was late
she was the anxious one; if any quar-
rel had happened between the levers
she would have suffered twice as in
tensely as Jessie. But nothing did hap
pen, and the summer deepened and
deepened, and one day Jessie said she
was to be married in September.
Then a tidal wave of excitement
swept over Miss Alvira. The wedding
must be nice, and there was so much to
do. Nobody but she should put a stitch
in the wedding dress. She lay awake
a whole night planning it out. She knew
well that Jessie would make no obiec-
tions. The girl was an orphan with
ON Ii. liAtla