The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1905-03-17
JOHN MARSTON'S
HOUSEKEEPER.
BY c. ". MAITLAND.

E15251525752S15152 S2S255S25S15a
Dare l take this placer" said Mar
garet Lester to herself, as she paced
I'D and down her small top room,
with the morning newspaper crushed
in her hands.
She glanced, with care in the low
ing brown eyes, upon the little twin
sisters who had been her charge for
seven years, since her parents and
theirs had died.
Pacing up and down the floor, Mar
garet went over in her mind all those
long seven years, in which she had
worked for them with willing hands,
yet had only been able, after all, to
Just keep the gaunt wolf from the
door. And now how could she do
even that?
The fine needlework and embroid-
cry which had barred him out these
seven years, she could do no more of,
for her sight was failing-the doctor
said of overwork.
She had advertised in vain for
situation as governess; she had ad-
vertised and applied for all sorts OF
places. And never an answer had
come to her until the one in that
mornings newspaper.
She smoothed it out again, and read
for the third time:
IF A. B., who has been advertising
in this paper, has not found situa-
ton as housekeeper, she may do so
by calling between five and eight
o'clock at Washington place"
She dropped the paper, and was
leaning on the dressing table, look
ing into the mirror-looking there
searchingly, wistfully; and presently
she drew out her comb, and shook
the soft brown mass Of hair low on
her cheeks. And then she sighed,
half sorry, half relieved, and pushed
it back again.
mo, no! the nine long years have
done their work." she said, half
aloud to the pale, worn face in the
mirror. There's nothing left Of the
Madge Lester he once knew. The
gold and the curl are gone from the
hair, the merriment and careless
laughter from the eyes, the color and
the roundness from the cheeks.
What nonsense to have feared that
twenty-six could be like seventeen!
Besides, I've grown so much since he
and I last met-nine years ago. Lit
tie Madge Lester has gone forever,
and in her stead, tall A. B.-let me
see-Anne Brown; yes, that will do"
All the time she was thinking thus
her busy hands smoothing down the
hair about her face, arranging it in
close bonds to the temples, and put
tin git away behind her ears--a pref
ty, classic style enough, but one
upon which only an elder person
would venture. 1t makes the pale
face look older, and less like, as Mar
garet knows. the young Madge Les
ter in the floating cloud of sunny
hair.
But when she takes down her hat
she is dissatisfied. She stands
thoughtful for a moment, then turns
aside to a chest, from which she
draws close Grape bonnet and veil,
and puts them on, with tender, lin
gering touch, for they were once her
mothers.
She has dragged something else
out in the folds of the Grape veil.
Only a pair of spectacles-some relic
which her mother kept. Margaret Is
abuot to put them back when sud-
den thought strikes her. She goes to
the mirror, and puts them on instead.
And Bessy looks up from her doll
upon the hearthrug, and claps her
small hands.
Look, Lubbock! Sister Margie's
grown so old!"
Margaret stoops down to the two
little ones and kisses them. Yes, sis
ter Margie has grown old, has put
away all her sweet youth for them.
Then she hurries down, and out of
doors. She has slipped her spectacles
into her pocket, on leaving her room,
and she walks on without them in the
gathering dusk. She has no need of
them, but she puts them on again, al
though they blind her a little as to
height and number Of steps, when she
sees, looking up in the dim light, that
this is Washington place. and she
must mount to the front door.
What manner" she is asked, when