The Montgomery advertiser., 1904-06-01
nv uopoTuY r. LEONARD.

| hostess into the sitting room. Martha turned around and nodded cordially, but did not rise. T guess you'li excuse me under the circum- | stances" laughed she, "my laps pret- | ty full"
 | Mrs. Peabody laid aside her wraps l and sank into the nearest chair, her heart beating like a trip hammer. The table was covered with a profusion of dainty materials and half-finished gar ments; and, from where she sat, she | could see that the work over which l the girl was bending was of an elabor- ate description. She was sure now that the report she had heard that morn l ing was true, and that Martha was go- | ing to be married to Harry Summers. As she thought of 1t, and of Harry's attentions to her own daughter Fan ny, during the past year, her brain seemed to whirl. At last she was con- i scious that Mrs. Moore was addressing her.
 You didn't hear me. Mis- Peabody. Don't you want to see all we've got doneT'
 Here take this seat by the win- dow" said Martha. rising. you can't see well over there." By a great effort she mastered her l feelings. and. sitting down by the win | NOWs slIenIty ehO 0htfSASo | shown to her.
 Why this Is real lace, Marthy," she said at last, in genuine surprise, ~Yes, there's to be a whole set trim- med with that pattern" put in the mother, proudly, but yet I do think crochet is prettier and washes better. too. Marthy does do crochet wonder fulr
 50 does Fannyr said Mrs. Peabody Gushing suddenly.
 Dear Fanr said Martha, "tell her | to come over Saturday and see my things Wait, ma! don't show her the veil till light the lamp. The lights all gone"
 The veil would have seemed pretty to far more critical eyes than Mrs. peabody's, but to the poor woman, overwhelmed with the petty cares of poverty stricken life. it was vision of beauty. It was impossible to im- l agine it on Martha's head; and Fanny's delicate beauty rose persistently be- | fore her eyes until Mrs. Moore broke l the silence.
 | Mir. Moore and I ain't never gofn' I to tell what we paid for that veil, Even Martha don't know"
 Tt used to be considered awful bad luck to show the wedding clothes" answered her guest. struggling in vain to suppress the jealousy which surgeA | in her heart.
 "oh, we've got beyond such nonsense now" laughed Martha, as she began gathering up her treasures. Her plain, coarse face was flushed and triumph ant. Mrs Peabody could not endure to look at her. T just know how she tried to get him from Fanny" the poor wo- man thought to herself. she who has everything in the world she wants, too"
 At last it began to dawn on Mrs. Moore that her visitor was very silent and possibly bored.
 Are MT. Peabody and the boys weIl?" she asked.
 "Yes."
 And Fanny? We hear she's goin' to have the school next year. too"
 "Oh, that's fine for her." said Martha carelessly.
 Mrs Peabody's heart beat fast, heI brain was ou fire. "I guess Fanny'll be havin' something else to do then be- side teaching!" she said, suggestively
 '"why. Louise, you don't say" ejacu- lated Mrs. Moore.
 DO you mean she's keeping com. pany?" asked Martha, peering shrewd' ly into the poor woman's face.
 "Yesr and for the first time in hel life Mrs. Peabody had told a lie.
 'T don't believe it." cried the gir
 rudely.
 'Marthyr said her mother. reprov' ingly.
 well. it's awful queer nobody'i
 heard anything about it!'
 Mrs. Peabody returned no answer She fingered the veil absently for { few minutes, then rose and walked
 slowly to the door. well. good night I guess I'd better be goin,." said she and stepped out bareheaded into thu
 darkness. Martha ran after her anC llaid a restraining hand on her arm
 'You'll catch your death of cold. Nils Peabodyi Don't mind what said. Com'
 back and get your things on' and pal drive you home"
 'I don't see what took her so." saiC
 the girl after they had helped her. un
 resisting into the. wagon, and .gon
 back to the house.
 "Oh, I guess 1t was the heat O thu
 room after walking so fast, returned
 her mother placidly, but you diC
 speak up mighty loud and sassy t'
 her. Marthy, and mebbe that turned
 her head"
 Poor Louise Peabody leaned back 1T the wagon beside Mir. Moore in silen despair. Above the certainty that liar ry had deserted her own dear daugh ter, above her belief in Martha's per fdy. loomed the lie in all it's hideOus ness Mir Moore's jokes in regard t'
 the approaching nuptials, and his in
 formation that Harry Summers ha' bought out his uncle's grocery bust ness and would settle down near then , fell upon unheeding ears. She reused at last to the consciousness that h. was helping her out of the wagon. and
 after a hasty goodnight. with burn
 ing cheeks and a heart like lead Mrs Peabody entered her home. i As the weeks passed by it was sur
 prising to see how we'll Fanny bor, up under Martha5s engagement II spite of the extra work of the sprint
 term she was blooming. and fairll ] cheerful. She never mentioned Harry , nor did he come to the house: but a I the days heightened she would oftel go off alone for a ramble in the pin,
 woods for an hour or two after school l coming back laden with violets, fern and specimens of wild flowers, whicl 2 she said were for her class in botany School closed on the 10th of Jun
 and the 11th was the day set for Mar
 tha's wedding. Mrs. Peabody had no y intended to go. but Fanny insiste, t upon 1t. "It will look so queer i g neither of us go. ma," she urged. "ant A as school only closed yesterday don !. feel like 1t. One of the boys can driv, . you oveA and you must wear my mus { lin withwhe lavender stripes. It fit
 you all rishseeand you'll look nne ii