The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1900-12-28

back tc the parlor, and sinking again
into the low chair, sat staring at the
fire, thinking her own bitter thoughts,
while the sad hours wheeled slowly by,
each bringing its bitter memory-its
mourniul burden.
The servants returned home and
went to bed; and as the mantel clock
chimed eleven, Mrs. Morton rose with
a deep sigh, and whispering:
"He would rather not find me up
when lie comes home'
She was preparing to go upstairs
when faint knock sounded on the
panels Of the door, at the end of the
side hall, made her pause with ner-
vous start, and stand looking toward
it in strange dismay.
"Why should it come to that door,
that mournful door through which her
whole life had passed away four years
ago this very night? Did spirits come,
indeed, to reproach and remind those
who wrongcd them Of
| The knock was repeated little
louder, and summoning all her self
command, Mrs. Morton went forward,
and inquired:
"Who is it? Speak,
| A feeble voice made some intelligi-
bic answer, but it was at least human
voice, and an unfamiliar voice, instead
| of those accents the listener had half
hoped, halfdreaded to hear, and with
a feeling of relief she drew back the
bolts and opened the door.
A dim, covering figure stood upon
the steps and the black, icy cold of the
night swept around and over it, and
rushed through the open door as if it
had been the true outcast lmploring
shelter, and having once obtained en-
trance. would make the luxurious
home its own.
Mary Merton drew back with a
shudder. and little impatiently asked:
"What is it? What do you want?'
$50 cold, lady; and there is no place
to sleep, and the baby cries and is hun
CRY. | fear lest he should he dead
when morning comes again.
"a baby! and shelterless this bitter
night" exclaimed the lady. "Come in
directly, you poor creature, and let me
shut the door!''
Painfully, and with the slow motion
Of one stitfened by long exposure to
the cold, the woman obeyed, and tol-
lowed Mrs. Morton to the kitchen,
where good fire still remained in the
stove, beside which Mrs. Morton placed
her in a comfortable chair, and then
busted herself in preparing some hot
tea, and placing some hot food upon
the table. The tea was eagerly ac-
cepted, but the food refused with mur-
INJURED thanks and the excuse:
"Too much cold go all over me to
care about eating. l would die if l
had not looked for place to put the
baby"
"Let me see the baby. You have
not uncovered it yet" said Mrs. Nor
ton suddenly; and the woman smiled, a
faint, sweet smile OF comprehension.
"Oh, he is not dead" said she, Il
feel his little breathing all the time
upon my hand"
She uncovered his face as she spoke;
a poor, pale, Wee little face, such as
hunger, cold, exposure make for their
own, and with an impress of natural
beauty not to be eradicated.
From the baby Mrs. Morton looked
at the mother more attentively than
she had yet done, and was shocked at
the traces of suffering and want plainly
! written upon face that should have
been one of uncommon beauty, in the
dark and rich style of warmer climate
and kinder influences than those Of our
Northern region.
"You are foreigner, are you not?'
asked sic, kindly.
eyes, madame. came from Italy"
A sharp pain shot through the listen
er's heart, and turning away, she
walked swiftly to the other side of the
room, trtled with something upon
table, then wiped some tears from her
eyes, and Was returning toward the
young girl, fondly hanging over her
baby now, when the front door opened
and shut violently; steps came through
the hall and down the stairs, and Mr..
Morton stood in the doorway, sternly
regarding the group beside the fire.
What is all this, Nary" demanded
he presently. "Who is this woman,
and What are you doing with her?'
y poor homeless, shclterless young
woman with a little baby, John,' re-
piled his wife, entreatingly. Il have
given her some food and warmed her,
and now | am going to prepare bed
for her, here beside the fire, and keep
her until morning."
"No; she shall not stay here
And rs he spoke, John Morton
turned a white. stern look upon his
wife's face, a look that seldom failed of
winning instant obedience from those
who met it. But she had suffered too
long and too much this whole day and
evening to feel anything very keenly
now, and only raised her eyes inquir-