Middletown transcript., 1906-10-06
HELD TO DUTY
?
BY MARY sWEET R0TTER

Pierce had worked. without rest.
since I'VE o'clock in the morning.
with d step that was wonder
fully light and elastic, consider.
ing all tb6ss hours Of toll, she at
langti, 1ntied her working apron
and left the house. going swiftly
io3n the narrow path TO the
gate between The lilacs, glancing
apprehensively backward.
Eyes less used to scan the
landscape round about would
have failed to locate the distant
roadway, where moving figure
was dimly discernible coming
briskly toward the house; but
Mrs. Pierce knew exactly where
to look for it, aud the firm but
graceful poise of the approach
ing figure could not be mistaken.
It is she my little Ruth ]
might have known she would not
fail me. These four years, which
seem like a dozen. are over at
last, and within a week | shall be
free: then Ruth and can be TO.
gether in a home of our own,
away from this place, which
does not deserve the name of
home.
Talking thus to herself she
waited a few mo8ents at the
gate, then hastened on to meet
the one who was swiftly coming
nearer.
When they met they clasped
hands apd kissed tenderly, then
looked eagerly into each others
faces, to see if there were
changes.
There were changes in both
faces, and there was still sufi-
cient light to make them visible.
Oh, Ruth! I can see, even by
this dim light, the signs of the
hard battle you have been fight
ing, and all for me.
Not entirely, Mother; ] wanted
to have you for my own good as
well as yours. I waDted q pretty,
pleasant home with you in it in
peace and plenty, and | have
worked and economized till I've
got it, and now the only question
is, how soon can we go and take
possession Of it?
The face of the elder woman
qui2ered with emotions that
seemed TO conflict, joy predomi-
mating, however; and she could
not speak for q moment, till she
had succeeded in controlling her.
self.
! know, she said at length; /
have not burned your last letter
yet; ! wanted to read it over and
over again-the description of
The little rooms and the furniture
and all about the place you have
got ready for your foolish old
mother.
No, not foolish, Mother, but
worn out and nervous. Cry if
you want to; il win do you good.
But tell me first how poor old
Dick gets along. ! have en-
gagged a place for him, too.
Oh, I have been so worried
about him! I couldn't bear to |
zoe him work; he Is too old. He
S the only living creature on /
he place you and I can lay claim |
%; I am glad he is going.
You forget Dandy. / have
Always included Dick and Dandy |
n my calculations. Mother, tell
ne, did father ever strike yon? |
No; and that's why I've had so
many doubts. Ruth. Maybe so
ong as he doesn't do that / ought
% stay by him, and never mind
lis tongue, though il is often sol
.ruel, as you well know.
Mother, not a particle Of thei
element of duty enters into the
consideration Of this matter at
Ill l have given him four years
lere alone with yon without o
light Of my face, which he hates, |
because it shows SO plainly the
,corn / feel for him, ! suppose, |
md your kindness and gentle
less and forbearance-with Bit
,er emphasis--to work upon him
without restraint or Interruption
il any kind, still he remains the
same selfish, cruel wretch. God |
'orgive me for speaking in such |
j manner Of my father, but I can
1ot help it when / look at you.
The little, faded woman, with |
j weak self.pity born OF shat
,ered nerves, was sobbing hys- |
ierically now, and the daughter
irew her down upon rocky seat
nd held her slender form close /
= while she soothed her lovingly. |
t..