The Montgomery advertiser., 1902-02-16
THE ADVERTISERS DAILY SHORT STORY


 Keturah Allen sat out under the grape vine arDor knitting. It was only o'clock in the morning-an un-Christian hour to knit as most busy housewives would have said. and which sketurah herself ly disquIeted heart-but what could she do. Since the Conqueror came she had TO resource against time except knitting and missionary work. and even her char ity-loving heart could not find the shadow of an excuse for making poor-calls this morning. Meadowville was a small place and since the Ladies' Missionary Society and the Chidren's Mission Band had been organized, the two or three poor fami- lies had found 1t a sinecure to keep their poverty before the public. Even the most liberal of the work lovers were forced to admit that their proteges were becoming more and more shiftless and
 keturah loved charity work and hated knitting. and 1t was this same hate that made her cling to 1t so assiduously. If sitive conscience would have provided her with sackcloth and ashes. f.
 It was In the lush of middle June, and the odors of honeysuckles and roses were berries and pungent garden herbs Poi- len-dusted bees and iridescent butterflies fitted about in the sunshine, and among the tendrils of the grapevine above her
 
 yellow warbler. Nothing was afraid of keturah. Even now one of the warblers was twittering a contemplative tnteriude not three feet away from her clicking needles,
 But Keturah was in disturbed frame of mind this morning, and was not even conscious of her tiny friends presence. She could hear the Conqueror bustling rattling dishes, opening and shutting oven doors, whistling-yes, actually whistling-to the canary bird. and now and then dndulging in a snatch Of ened with mingled emotions. The Con queror was splendid housekeeper; she was glad to admit that, both for her brothers and her consciences sakes; but minded and so capable. She did all her homework and looked after the poultry and flower garden; she was president of the missionary society and found plenty rah admired her vastly. and even liked her in rebuffed sort of way; but some how, even from her vantage ground of inside spectator. she could never quite understand how one woman could ac- conscience made her offer to help with the work, and every morning the Con- queror looked at her with calmly su- perior air and said that slow help was q bother.
 And that is why Keturah's mornings were spent in the grapevine arbor, or out making poor-ealls. She wanted to like the Conqueror; and tried to with all heart. Was she not her brothers wife, and was she not the best hoasekeeper and most capable manager in all Mead owvile?
 And there was another thing. For three and twenty years Keturah had been the undisputed mistress of the es- tablshment, doing the work in her quiet, prim, lady-like way and never other changes than what rghtfully be- longed to them. She had been house keeper for her father until he died, and had once thought-and hoped-that her brother might marry. such a possibility had gradually been lost sight of. He had just passed his fortieth birthday. and she her forty-third. when the Con- Queror came.
 Keturah was not combative, and she tried to take the new order of things according to the light her conscience in dlcated. but, her resolutions were not as strong as the nature handed down by half-a-dozen generations of cultured an- cestors. At the end of a month she had / gone to her brother and asked for her share of the property. so that she might go off and live by herself. At first he h d been incredulous, then sarcastic. Their father had expressed hope that the property need not be divided. he had 
 her have her share without selling the homestead, and he would not do that. And, furthermore, he had advanced the unnecessary argument that she was tot. old to live by herself. She had wiaced a little at this thrust. It sounded so like the bristling assertions of the Con queror that she turned away. hurt and silenced.
 But 1t was true she told herself, re- morselessly; she was getting. to be quite an old woman. And she went to the glass to overwhelm her worldliness with a proof of the fact. But somehow the glass did not carry ont the sentence of the assertion. Her skin was still soft, and her cheeks had the same delicate flush that had made her a belle In the far-off days of her girlhood; and there was not singlo gray intruder among all the glossy brown hair that was coiled and massed upon her head.
 A quick step on the gravel walk brought her eyes from the needles and her thoughts from the future.
 "Oh. here you are. Miss Keturah, I've looked for you everywhere" and Flor ence. the Connueror's sister. hustled into the arbor and plumped herself down on the seat beside Keturah. Florence was IS. very vivacious. very dumpy. and very much in love with herself: and added to this. she was the pride and admira- ton of the Conqueror's heart
 Oh Miss Keturah, have you heard the news" she cried. as soon as she could get breath. 'The Rev. Charles Bar