The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1905-09-10

s.r. < "
MS It seemed a come citing link with that
clysiumi Of fashion o which her dreams
were full.# She once went TO the library
and asked for IA misc French book b
IsThey gave herS Ia Petite Fadsttc,'8 s59es
had read of George Sand IN nc wspa rers
which had called her "coirlp ne Il q 81
yout h.. She hurried home With her shook u
eager 10 test It's corrupting qualities ana
when with locked doors and INFINITE
labor. size had managed ito Iaad IT. she
was greatly disappointed ut finding In II
notIin,, to admire and nothing 10 shud-
der At How could such n smart woman
as that wastePhcr time writing abeutha
lot of peasants poor al Gro WI, the whole
--lot!', was her final dignant8 comment.
as Blythe time she lett the SCHOOL fer
Ito had become almost as solitary as
that OF tie bat In the fable alien both
to bird and beast. she made no Intimate
ucquaintnnces there; ll.r sordid and sell
fish dreams occupied Ter too completely
Girls who admired pcr beauty were re-
PEELED By her heartlessnc wlllca they
felt, but could not clearly define. Even
sAzalta fell away from her, having found
aslont and bald headed railway cons
dnctor. whose alteration maze amends for
his lack OF romance. Maud knew she
Was not liked In the school, and being, OF
course, unable to attribute 1t 10 any
fault of her own, she ascribed 1t TO the
fact tina /. her father was mechanic AID
poor. This thought did not tend 10 make
her home happier. She passed much OF
lcr time In her own bedroom, 10 liking
out OF her window on the lake weaving
visions of ignoble wealth and fas hion
ou, OF the mlsts OF the morning sky
and the purple and gold that made the
Nor Invest glorious al sunset. When she
sat with her parents In the evening, she
rarely spoke. II sila was not gazing In
the fire. with hard bright eyes and lips,
In which there was only the softncss
of youth, but no lender tremor ofEgrl-l
hood s drenms, she was reading her%pI-
pers or her novels with rapt attention.
Her mother was proud Of her beauty
and her supposed learning, and loved
when she looked UP from her work, to
let her eyes rest upon her tall and
handsome child, whose cheeks weses flush
ed with. eager interest as she bent her
graceful head over her book But. Saul
Match nourishcd vague anger and
jealousy against her. He felt that his
love was nothing to her; that she was
too pretty and too clever to be ut home
4 in his poor house; and yet he dared not
either reproach her or appeal to her nf-
fections. His heart would I'LL with grief
and bitterness as he gazed ut her de-
s5youring the brilliant pages of some novel
of what she Imagined high life. uncon-
from her neatly shod feet uP to her
hair. frizzed and banged down to her
eyebrows, t.'making her look, " he thought
more like a Scotch poodle-dog than an
honest girl He hated those books,
which, he fancied, stole away her hsnrt
from her home. lie had once picked up
one OF them where she had left 1t; but
the hish-1own style seemed as sensels.s
10 him as the words of an incantation,
and he had flung It down, more bewilder-,
ed than ever He thought there must be
some Strange difference between their
minds when she could delight In What
seemed so8uncanny TO him, and he gazed
at her. reading by the lamp light, as
over q great gulf. Is Even her hands
holding the book made him uneasy; for
since she had grown careful OF them,
they were llke no hands he had ever
seen on any Of his kith and kim The
fingers We're. long and white, and the
nails were Shaped like an almond. and, |
though the hands lacked de!icacy at the |
artlculations, they almost, made Matchn |
reverence his daughter as his supsrlor, ms
1 be looked at his own.
One evening, irTltated by the silence |
and his own thoughts he cried out with
II sudden suspicion;
Where do you git all them books, and
what do they COST"
She turned her fine eyes slowly upon
him and said: IA.
II got them from the public library,
and they cost nothing" & i
4 He felt deeply INUNDATED THAT he
should have made q blunder3 so ridicu-
lous and so unnecessary,
After she had left the school-where
she was graduated as near as possible
to the foot of the class-she was almost
alone In tho world. She rarely visited |
her sister, for the penury of the Wixhum
r household grated upon her nerves, nnd |
she was not polite enough to repress |.
her disgust at the ufractionate demon
STATIONS Of the Wlxham babies, There,
there get along. you'll leave me not lit
to be seen!' she would say, md Ju,ilda
would answer In that vicious whine Of
illght-hatred Women, too early ovarWorls-
ed and oyerprolhc: Eyes, honey, let your
aunt alone. She's too fifty for poor folks
like u.s., and Maud would so home,
loatllng her lineage,
The girls she had known In her own
quarter We're by this time earning their
own living, some IN the manufactorles, In
the llghter}forms OF the iron trade, some \
In shops and u few In domestic service.
lean blood rcyplts against this easiest
and best-paid8 Of all occupations and
leaves lit to more sensible foreigners,
The working bees We're clearly no COM
ipany for this poor would-be3 butterfly.
They barely spoke when they met. kept l.
3asl,nder by "a mutual embarrassment
One girl, with whom she hau plaSed as
"a child had carly taken TO syil courses.