The Brandon news. (Brandon, Miss.) 1892-1961, 1908-01-30
] Little, Old Hiss Lavender I:
BY M. BRInBLE.
By ETHEL M. BRIrlBLE.

Our verdict at first was that she
was one of the most uninteresting
colorless sort Of nonentities we had
ever had the misfortune to come
across. She was very quiet-almost
subdued in her manner-with slight
ly perceptible touch of shyness, and
a slow way of speaking, which an
noyed us both exceedingly.
We agreed, however, that the aunt
was sweet old lady, exactly like
an Old World picture or a bygone ro-
mance-just the type one instinctively
associates with an atmosphere of Ia
vender and faded rose petals.
Her one idea in life-indeed, nearly
all her interest-seemed centered on
the only human being she had left to
love-her grandniece, Lillian.
1t was really too pathetic to hear
her talk; / mean when one saw the
girl, for she spoke as if she possessed
all the graces and charms of a beauty
and the attributes of genius in en-
bryo; whereas, in reality, she was, as
l mentioned before, a most ordinary
docking, commonplace little person,
with nothing to redeem her rather
plain features but pleasant, though
rare, smile, which lit up her face for
moment, and quite changed its ex-
preston.
The pathos, however. lay in the fact
that little, old Miss Lavender as
we had, with common consent, chris
tened the old lady, could never see the
smile, or, indeed, anything in the
world around her, for she was totally
blind.
Not for her did the sun turn the
glistening dewdrops on their tiny lawn
into diamonds or the sweet-Scented,
old-fashioned flowers in the little bor-
der spring forth into glowing colors as
she passed, a sad-looking, old figure,
though with certain dignity of her
own, down the tiny, gravel path be-
tween the lilies and roses, which
stretched in row to the little, green,
wooden gate.
Yet one wonders if, after all, there
were not compensations. loving her
niece as she did, it would have been
agony to her sensitive heart to see
how the girl was sometimes passed
over among her more favored COM
panions or, when other girls ap-
peared, arrayed in all the pristine
freshness of crisp, new muslins, Or
soft silks, Lillian still came out in her
well worn-white cashmere. We used
to call it Mrs. Noah" then, and laugh
secretly at its regular temperance
each highday and holiday. How little
we knew! 1t was only the other day
/ found my sister Molly kneeling be-
fore funny little box sofa in Miss
Lavender's best bedroom, shedding a
quiet tear over something inside, and
when / stole over to see what the
contents were which caused my usual
ly light-hearted sister to weep, found
her holding a fold of the historic cash
mere in her hands.
1t made lump rise in my throat,
too, and turned quickly away, and
crept softly downstairs, to where the
pathetic, old figure, in its dainty, lace
cap and fichu, sat in the sunshine
on the little lawn.
She looked up as l approached, with
a smile of welcome, and made room
for me to sit on the seat beside her.
Il heard your footsteps, my dear,
and knew you would spare the old
woman a little time for chat. You
know, | have had another letter from
Lilian-the dear child is so happy,
and | want to have a little talk about
her with some one who knew her.
The sightless eyes were turned
eagerly toward me, while the fragile
hands fumbled for the letter in the
little, satin work-bag she always car
ried
How could one have the heart to un-
deceive her-to dash the hope from
the brave. old face and the brightness
from her life? 1t would need drawer
one than l, and we had long ago de-
cided to help Lillian in her deception,
and never to betray her secret to the
loyal, trustful heart which beat for
her alone AS she said, it could not
be for long now, and, after the end,
what would it all matter to anyone
except herself?
1t was curious how we all, even
down to Molly, who was always so
down on anything not quite above
board, combined to aid Lillian in her
deception toward Miss Lavender; but
yet, what else could we do?
She had confided in us one day
while we were all three sitting out on
the lawn, and Miss Lavender and my
mother were indoors, having a quiet
chat together.
To this day / don't know what led
up to it; I rather think it was after
Molly had been holding forth on hel
pet subject of the general uselessness
of most girls lives nowadays, and how
so few realized the obligation of work
of some sort
II consider any sort of work is
noble,' she wound up, in her impetu
Gus way; "and, provided it is honest
there is nothing derogatory in girl