Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1910-07-15

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plain?"
The indications are that we shall have
a spell OF rainy weather after the 2Oth
and l thought il would make no differ
ence with YOU Anyway. she IS here and
YOU should attend to her at once" For
reply Marjorie turned down the steps
Miss Rice is your business, not mine.
am going for a walk. Tomorrow / shall
Keep my appointment with Miss Rice"
But what shall tell herr"
Tel her what you please"
But you are not going of again. now
II is nearly time for lunch"
4 shall not he home to lunch today.
Tell Mary so, please" Marjorie was well
down the steps before the elder woman
recovered from her surprise sufficiently
to close the door which she did with the
reflection that Marjorie Grahame has
certainly gone raying crazy. ! never knew
her 10 he so independent and assertive.-
going on, too, in this high-handed fashion.
without telling anybody where"
Marjorie did not know herself where. "
only to get out OF the house and into the
open air where she could think without
being Stihed, that was her first step She
tclt as II she We're confronting a question
as wide as all out doors. So she walked
on, and on, through side streets till she
reached shut-in dinGle I'm "a grove Of
pines, where q noisy brook unlblel over
bank and removed her hat leaning over
to look az her face. but the sparkling
water sent mp only jets Of white foam
Its just as well; its even better: for
! should only see wrinkles and crow feet &"
She conhded this depressing information
to the universe. while she dipped her
hands I'm the water ana wet her face and
hair. Something from lbsen came to her
life"
Why shouldn't we live our own lives.
Mark and 1? What is the trouble?"
y little bird perched on a stone. wet
ting his beak, cooked his eye up at her
and bubble"
The trouble is with mother" Mar
jorie stumbled a little on the word. but
ours, in our own home. and in our own
brought II out bravely at last with
mother She has had her own life: why
cannot she be content now to let us have
way? For it Is our oven home. and our
way Is a good one, We gave her the
sunny chamber, the very best, and all
her belongings are there to make it seem
home Ike, Mark said But she has never
considered, never" and the little bird
echoed never, never"
This interference about my dressmaker
Is only a specimen And she will find
that this has proved the last drop I will
endure it no longer. 'Bllghted.' am l?
What is it to be blghted? To smell of
mold and mildew. I? And all my set are
noticing it, are they, and commenting
accordingly"
She raised her head and shifted the
freshness Of the pines. and the apple
blossomed spring air, and the little bird
twittered out "Tee-wee, Tee-wee! l see!
l see."
The note was full of cheer and uncon-
sciously II helped her up to a saner re-
view Of the situation. Whats the rea-
SON" she spread out her hands to the
universe, that II should sink so low
all at once, as to be an object of pity and
contempt to all my friends, and to the
unconcealed delight of my enemies, If
have any? Didn't take that jerks boy.
and all his pals, when the minister said
nobody could do anything with them and
didn't we pull together, till. at the end OF
the year. we won the prize as the banner
class? Didn't WEI"
And the little bird answering for the
universe piped out 10000, just so!
Just sol"
Now, even in our honeymoon, not
day passed that Mark didn't receive the
ma ternal message as she called 1t, and |
he had to answer every one, If he sat up !
all night to do it. And when we came |
home nobody knows what l endured She |
must have the door of dear Marks room |
left open, as 1t always had been, and she |
used to come in without knocking,-with- |
out even a knock, mind you!-and coddle |
him like baby, right before my face and |
eyes. Well, that woe has stopped but |
others remain, and their name is legion" |
81 can't have caller to myself, till my |
friends are falling off, nor hardly a letter |
can call my own. Now there was poor |
Helen. She didn't try even to call her |
soul her own, so she just gave up the |
ghost, and died. I don't see why mothers |
with grown-up daughters must make log |
chains out of themselves. Helen never |
made call when her mother didn't go |
with her; she never had a letter that |