The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1900-02-10

mo, Louise duSNClSu, Will q
little sob in her throat, II have not
told him anything about it. 1t does
not matter to him."
Probably not And then fol-
lowed cautions and directions, and
soon the sisters were separated.
Louise cried all night sometimes
a silent, pitifu1 rain of tears, some.
times quick, heavy sobs that seemed
tearing her heart out, and when the
first gray light Of morning found the
long train slowly backing up in the
Grand Central depot at New York
her head was aching and her eyes
were dim.
But the friend with whom she was
to board waited for her and her work
was ready.
She had held the May flowers all
night in her hot, feverish hand ana
their delicate seashell tints were just
as fresh, their subtle and delicious
fragrance as grateful as though they
had been taken but an hour before
from their bed of fallen forrest leaves.
This seemed like magic to Louise,
but it was only the hardy nature of
the little woodland blossom, that will
keep blooming for days under the
most adverse circumstances.
Summer frightened and faded.
Winter brought, its manifold discom-
forts and few joys, as it invariably
does in the city, and Louise only
heard from home by way of Esther's
brief and formal letters. Never a
word of Professor Frank. Stubborn
ness and resentment had fed away to-
gether, and Louise '1onged for the
touch of a vanished hand' and the
sound of voice that had spoken with
gentle, encouraging faith when she
most needed assistance.
"He never gave me an impatient
word or look" she said to herself.
And if l was slow to learn, or awk-
ward at my work, he never told me
of it." She was so lonely in the
great city that she even forgave her
self for thoughts she would never
dare indulge in at home. And SO the
spring came and found her working
resolutely and patiently, but, oh, so
homesick.
1t was Saturday, late in April,
warm and wearisome.
She had been looking at collec-
ton of plants on the street corner
away down town. "Pansies for
thought" she said half aloud and,
turning away with sigh. she saw
surely she could not be mistaken,
there was Professor Frank just enter
ing public house with lady on his
arm-a little lady, neatly dressed and
closely yelled.
She tried not to notice them she
went back to the dingy Office and
bent over her work the ceaseless
the tears would fall on the fair, white
block and mar her work. She was
glad to go home early-glad to escape
from the treadmill of toll and think
of her own sad and bitter thoughts.
Blinded and cropping, she reach her
door and stumbled over box left by
a trim little messenger boy. In the
shadowy light she opened it and the
poor little room was glorifed, and life
itself grew all at once blessing and
a boon. The fragrance of tea roses
and heliotropes foated up like in
cense, and through it all the sweet,
penetrating odor of May flowers.
Then Louise sat down on the dusty
carpet and hugged the box in her
arms and cried and cried.
She had not known before how
homesick she was. How the weari-
some lines of brick and brownstone
had made her brain dizzy and her
heart sick. How she longed for the
oldtime brightness, for a glimpse of
the greeting woods and fields-for
home
When she had grown calmer she
found a note among the flowers, and
was scarcely surprised to read
"I have found you at last. Why
do you hide away from me? I shall
call at eight this evening. Have you
no welcome for your old friend and
teacher?"
She forgot all possible changes that
the year might have wrought-forgot
the little lady down town, until he
said:
Il brought my mother on, and you
must return with us tomorrow.
Louise had demonstrated the fact
that she could earn her own living,
but it is a thousand times pleasanter
to have a home, and the wee bit
frock she hid away with a conscious
blush is the most satisfactory piece of
designing she has ever yet done.