Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1899-05-31
"And what did he say to rnar Z

"Oh. he is always SO full of his
quaint, bluff humorp' replied Mrs.
Hamilton. smiling tenderly at the rec
election. /" It's no use keeping mill
to turn, mother, he said in his hearty
way, unless one finds grist to put in
it. Dear fellowl"
Mary sat down at the other side of
the window and got out her embroidery
from the smart workbasket. Mrs. Ham
ilton looked at her with astonished eyes,
first at her and then at the bit of dainty
work in her hands.
care you not going to help Noun
cey p she asked. 1t was point of honor
with Mrs. Hamilton that Mary's maids
should be called by their surnames, al
though both Of them detested the GUS
tom.
''No, mother. Mouncey has all in
strCctions from Edward"
For moment Mrs. Hamilton kept
silent. But at last she burst out impul-
sively. "You are very strange, Maryl"
she. cried. "When your poor father was
going away, always arranged every
little detail for him with my own hands,
but you sit there as coldly as if you had
been married 20 years instead of this
being your first parting with your hus-
band, little more than bridegroom.
1t must be owned that the girl felt q
thrill of disgust go through her at her
mothers words. A wild prayer half
formed itself in her heart that this first
parting might be the last, and an allur-
ing picture Of quiet grave, with the
inscription "Mary Conway, aged 49,"
on the headstone. slipped sweetly
through her mind. She even smiled,
heartsick as she was, as she answered
her mothers plaintive and wondering
words .
"Ah. but you see it was different
with you, mother; you married for love |!
Edward doesn't keep me to pack his
things for him. Mouncey will do it bet
ter than t.
"It is most strange, said Mrs. Ham
ilton. "but of course we express our
feelings SO differently. You are SO like
your poor father and not in the least
like me. He was always so quiet and
reserved-just as you are -
Zone cannot help ones nature" said
Mary, trying tospeak with Indifference
"And of course we have known all along
that Edward would have to be away a
good deal. A few days more or less
make little difference"
''Ah. well, it is all for the best that
you do take things like thatr' said Mrs
Hamilton, distinct reproach in her
tones. II should never have done for a
sailors wife; I should have broken my
heart every time he went away.
"God tempers the wind to the shorn
lamb" said Mary.
She felt that the remark was fippant,
even unfeeling. and yet the effort which
she was putting upon herself was so
great that it was only by the most se-
we're determination that she was able to
keep herself calm. The thrill of COM
junction was, however, thrown away,
for Mrs. Hamilton's shallow mind was
not capable Of taking in two ideas at
the same time.
spokenl" she remarked.s 81 often won
der what l should have done If Provi-
dence had not sent dear Edward our
way. I shudder to think what my life
would have been, i'll and alone all day
in that miserable little house in that
dreary, sordid neighborhood
II should have made other arrange
ments. should have done my best.
said Mary little indignantly.
eyes. darling child. I know you
wouid. Mrs. Hamilton returned in an
indignant tone, as one might speak to q
feeble person who had tried to stem the
river Of life and had failed utterly.
but mercifully-and truly the ways
of Providence are wonderful; feel il
mora and more every day that I live
--msrcifully God did think fit to temper
tho wind to the shorn lamb. or the
shorn sheep. as one might say in my
case. Mary. what have You done to
your facet" She asked the last question
in totally different voice. Mrs. Ham
ilton was always two people at one and
the same time-the artificial fine lady.
who was given to preaching little SER
none.tes all in platitudes. and the shall
low. self conferred person. with a keen
eye to the main chance of No. 1.
Mary started at the direct question.
She was accustomed to hearing her
mother babble aimlessly on from sub
ject to subject. but change of tone
always called for attention. my face2''
she said slowly, putting up her hand tc
the red mark. "Ch. it got knocked"
For half word she would have burst
ont with the whole story, but in hel
sudden upward glance she had noted
Mrs. Hamiltons serene. well satisfied
expression, the look of care and atten
tion which pervaded her whole person
her smart gown. her dainty little co
quettish cap. All these things meant
money. All these little details were a.
the breath of life to the shallow ant
narrow soul who had never befor.
known what it was to revel in fairly
good income. AS the conviction cam,
nome to her Mary's heart failed or hel
better nature prevailed. SO that she KEEP
the truth to herself.
ut got knocked. she said evasively
and Mrs. Hamilton was satisfied. She
went into long dissertation Of how she
once had run against closet door il
this dark and of how your poor father
said that her face looked exactly as i.
some one had struck her, and in thu
midst of this Mary suddenly remem
bered something that wonld carry hel
up stairs. and once in the shelter of hel
own room she fought with her pair
and misery-aye. as desperately as any
martyr fought with beasts of old in tn,
anphitheater of cruel Rome.
It was hard work. hard work. thi,
martyrdom of hers. voluntary sacri
fee for mother incapable of appreci
ating nature finer than her own: il
vas nobility thrown away. considera
hon for one who never considered any
sne but herself. Some glimmering-ani
1t was only glimmering. for ou
knowledge Of natures with which w
have grown up comes but slowly ant
tremblingly-came to her when she hai
Gained herself and forced herself to g,
I