The Rice belt journal. (Welsh, Calcasieu Parish, La.) 1900-19??, 1909-12-24

gan Helen, slowly, ito yield. What can
it matter! A quarrel over money-it
is sordid--"
Miss Pat stood up abruptly and said
quietly, without lifting her voice, and
turning from one to the other of US:
I'VE have prided ourselves for 100
years, we American HOlbrOOks. that
we had good blood in us, and charac-
ter and decency and morality; and
now that the men Of my house have
thrown away their birthright and
made our name plaything, | am 60
ing to see whether the general de-
cadence has struck me, too; and with
my brother Arthur, a fugitive because
OF his crimes, and my brother Henry
ready to murder me in his greed, it is
time for me to test whatever blood is
left in my own poor old body, and
am going to begin now | will not
run away another step: | am not 60
ing to be blackguarded and bounded
about this free country or driven
across the sea; and | will not give
Henry Hobrook more money to use in
dlSgracing our name. | have got to
die-1 have got to die before he gets
it'-and she smiled at me so bravely
that something clutched my throat
suddenly-"and l have every inten-
ton, Mr.. Donovan, of living a very
long time!"
Helen had risen, and she stood star
ing at her aunt in frank establishment.
Not often, probably never before in
her life, had anger held sway in the
soul Of this woman; and there was
something splendid in its manifesto
ton. She had spoken in almost her
usual tone, though with a passionate
tremor toward the close; but her very
restraint was in itself ominous.
1T shall be as you say, Miss Pat"
said, as soon as | had got my breath.
certainly, Aunt Pat" murmured
Helen, tamely. 1--WE can't be driven
round the world. We may as we'll
stay where we are"
The storm was abating, and l threw
open the windows to let in the air.
IF you haven't wholly lost faith in
me, Miss Holbrook-"
Il have every faith in you, Mr.. Don,
ovan!" smiled Miss Pat.
II shall hope to take better care of
you in the future"
Il am not afraid. | think that If
Henry finds out that he cannot brighten
me it will have calming effect upon
him."
Yes; | suppose you are right, Aunt
Pat" said Helen, passively.
| went home feeling that my respon-
sbilities had been greatly increased
by Miss Pats manifesto; on the whole
| was relieved that she had not or
dered retreat, for it would have dis.
tressed me sorely to abandon the game
at this juncture to seek a new hiding
place for my charges.
Long afterward Miss Pats decIara-
ton of war rang in my ears. My heart
leaps now as l remember it. And |
should like to be poet long enough
to write "a Ballade of All Old Ladies'"
or lyric in their honor turned with
the grace of Col. Lovelace and blithe
with the spirit of Friar Herrick. II
should like to inform it with their
beautiful tender sympathy that is
quick with tears but reader with
strength to help and to save; and it
should reflect, too, the noble patience
by time and distance, that
makes virtue of waiting-waiting in
the long twilight with folded hands for
the ships that never come! Men old
and battle-scarred are celebrated in
song and story; but who are they to
be preferred over their serene sister
hood? Let the worn mothers OF the