The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1909-03-04
A Mother
in Israel
BY IDA ALEXANDER

udu tidDStu olllNt Sllt III 81 pul IL Oii.
Now, seated on the train which was
to take her home. she wished that
there were something blacker than
the blacklist black. For it was worse
than home-gong to the home which
she had long considered empty; there
was one too many there now. For
two years there had been one too
many and one too few. But the house
keeper had been. after all. merely
fgurehead who deferred in all things
to Margaret's opinion. Now there
was someone else.
Margaret took out the three-months-
old letter There had been others
since, but this was the one that had
been read and reread. 1t was folded
at the place that had hurt most. She
knew it by heart, yet she read it
again. "And she is a good woman,
Margaret, reminding me in many
things of your sainted mother" She
read the letter from beginning to end
and twice she read the part that hurt
so sorely Then she tore 1t across,
again and yet again. Presently the
tiny bits, upon which no word could
be distinguished were flung from the
window.
People we're beginning to gather up
their packages, the train to slacken
it's speed. After little Margaret
found herself on the platform, with
half a dozen others. She saw her
father before he saw her. Everything
looked much the same-the same old
buggy, the same old horse and. with
n little thrill at her heart, Margaret
saw the same old father. What change
she had expected marriage to make
in him she did not know; but she
knew she had expected one and was
emily he spied her with his nearsight-
ed eyes and came over. There was
little said by either but when Mar.
garet slipped her small hand into her
fathers he gave sigh of relief. The
first meeting was not what she had
feared.
All the long ride home she kept up
a gay chatter which a more observ.
ant man would have rightly under.
stood. But as they drew near the
house even he noticed how her face
flushed and paled by turns.
The group standing in the door was
q very pleasant one, but not in Mar.
garets eyes. How often In her
dreams she had seen them-Teddy
and Bertha. Myrtle and wee Debut
now it was as If they didn't stand be-
fore her. What she saw, the only
thing she saw, was the lady who stood
beside them. She was tall, with IRON
gray hair and sharp, observant eyes,
the very antithesis. Margaret hotly
thought, of her little dove-eyed moth.
er. All In the minute, before a word
was said the owner of those observ-
ant eyes took note of the girl who
stood before her. She saw a slight
girl. scarcely more than a child. with
soft, brown hair, which the wind had
blown into picturesque disorder; a
mouth surely meant for smiling where
life was forcing a downward curve;
brown eyes. which might have been,
which almost were, beautiful in spite
of their angry appeal against fate.
Grief, rebellion, loathing-so many
emotions were written on the face
that her stepmother involuntarily
stretched out her arms as Mr.. Willis
introduced them. Margaret did not
even take her hand. She bent over
Dot moment to hide the tears that
were gathering in her eyes.
IF you'll excuse me, Mrs. Ellis, -
she said quite steadily, "Ill go up to
my room. It's quite tiresome ride
Yes" her stepmother answered,
take good rest. Dinner won't be
ready for an hour. I'll bring yours up
II you like. you poor, tired child"
But the unveiled pity was harder
than anger would have been.
mo. I'll come down, thank you.
Margaret answered, coldly.
AS day succeeded day the breach
between them widened, till finally 1t
was gaping place which no one love
could have bridged. Even the chill.
dren helped in the widening with
theif clinging fondness for their step
mother. Mr.. Ellis alone stood nery'
Ously impassive, longing for peace as
only the nervous can, longing in vain
as they usually do.
In every possible way Margaret
thwarted her stepmother, sometimes
covertly, sometimes openly, but ever
with an intolerant disregard that
made Mrs. Ellis feel an intruder in
her own home. Her patient accept
ance OF the situation, her silent un
derstanding, but served as fuel to the
feelings Margaret nursed. When a
sweet and wholesome nature becomes
embittered through real or fancied
wrongs, no other is 80 bitter, so i'm
placable.
81 wouldn't take Dot, If / were you
Margaret" said her stepmother one
morning, as Margaret took out the
child's hat and coat. She has not
seemed well the last day or 80, and
1t looks like rain"
Mo ell 1u hut