The record-union., 1897-08-29

"She is a dear old lady, Phyllis!"
II think the incest thing possible is
an old lady who is Irish"
"Oh, girls. she is a duck!"
They were art students, and there
We're seven of them; but, as they all
spoke at once, you could only hear the
loudest The seventh and latest COM
er was being helped in the disposal of
her belongings, and having her photo
graphs stuck up and talked about. Just
then the bed was creaking under the
six, who were giving her information.
"She is delightful-and never
preaches!"
but looks so venerable. Papa was
charmed with her.
''She isn't prim, you know"
zone wants to hug her."
1--WE all do, badly"
Need you shout?" said the latest
conner They all dropped their voices
and got gradually off the bed. wnen
some of them SIN. oothed the sheet and
the others subsided on the floor.
The old lady they were praising hap
pened to be downstairs entertaining a
visitor. If the noise had not been SO
great the girls might have heard
Shrek as that visitor stepped in.
"Oh, what have you done to your
self?" she had screamed. The old lady
shut the door, leaning against it, and
began to laugh She had a neat little
figure, and a nice pale face-one Of
those faces in which people see his
tory, and at which they like to look.
Her hair was as white as snow.
II have done all that in me lay" she
said.
The visitor seemed horror-strucl-. Her
eyes were round, and her mouth wide
open. She threw up her haniS and
backed against the piano.
your beautiful hair" she said. "Oh,
Frances, Frances!-is it POWDER"
The old lady shook her head and no
white cloud followed.
TT was a devils glory" said she.
'It brought me bad luck. have had
it bleached, and now I prosper"
The caller sank into a chair and
groaned. From overhead came gust
Of young women's voices, all together
Listen to theml' said Frances
O'Rell, pointing solemnly to the cell
ing. "You know quite well that they
would not be under my roof and wing
know that my black wisps were a de-
testablc fraud. 1t is only because L
am Irish that there is a bubble on the
top. and nobody understands that my
heart is drowned. And I might be.
sixty: I am so old, so old at heart,
Kathie: it is only on top that I laugh
little. My hair should have turned
gray long ago. 1t is a fraud no long
er,"
HAS your brother seen it?" asked
the visitor, who could not get over the
shock so soon.
Frances was right about the bubble.
A spot of color came to her pale face,
and she struck her hands together.
laughing like one of the girls upstairs.
ooh, no." she cried. How he would
starei He would be terribly shocked.
Oh, thank you, Kathie, for the idea!
will go tomorrow and show myself.'
She saw her still gasping caller to
the door, and then rang her small fam
lily down to tea.
They treated her with adoring defer
ence, as a dear old thing, while she sat,
all dignity, behind the teapot.
Then she went upstairs to see that the
newcomers room was all in order
She glanced at the pinned and propped-
up photographs, and smiled upon see
ing one that had been pushed behind
something, most likely escaping notice
from the helpers, who had sat on the
still rumpled bed and inspected the rest.
Frances looked at the half hidden pho
tograph and sighed Then she patted
the pillow with a kind little touch
smoothed the eounterpane and went
away. But she did not go downstairs:
instead, she turned into her own small
ROOM
She had photograph too, one that
she had kept out Of sight and tried to
forget entirely. Lately she had been
| forgetting it-at least, she thought so.
She took it out now, softly. as one
touches a dead thing. Tied up with it
were two little twists of hair, one
brown, one very black. Pulling loose
white strand of her own, she laid
the end beside these others, as she bent
over them, and sighed again, as any
| old lady might at relic of the past.
81 am another person now," she said.