The independent-reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1909-1955, 1911-08-10
The Truth
About Maisie
She Proved That Sometimes
the End Jusd6es the
Mean.
By AGNES c. BROCAN
Copyright by American Press Asso-
citation, 1911
Copyright by American Press Asso-
citation, 1911

Trinity church frowned darkly and
removed a footstooi which stood In his
way In a very unclerical manner
while the sweet faced old Lady who sat
near by folded letter which she had
been reading aloud
"Well. David" she asked. "wha'
shall We do about itY'
There Is just one thing to be done
of course" her son answered promptly
I'VE must send for my brothers child
and ask her to make this her home"
The old lady readjusted her specta
cles and referred again to the letter
Richard was ambitious to be great
artist" she said slowly, "and I can
picture the lifelong struggle which
ended only In defeat But at the last
he remembered his mother.
Take care of my little GIRL he
writes. She is an irresponsible,
at heart Watch over her. entreat
you. and use your influence, II posi-
Bile, In persuadlng her to leave the
stage. A letter addressed to her prop
er name, Miss Nj. E. Randolph. Gold
en- Butterfly company, New York." will
be forwarded wherever she may be-"
And SO 1t happened that Miss Ran
dolph. sitting in her dressing room at
the theater few days later. was hand
ed letter. and her large dark eyes
grew wider and brighter still as she
read this kindly invitation to become a
member of the parsonage household.
your grandmother and l will do all
in our power to make you happy" the
note read. and the girl smiled at the
erscription-"David Paul Randolph,
pastor of Trinity church. Eastville.
N. Y"
She leaned forward and made a little
face In the glass, then turned to get a
better view of the golden wings sus-
pended from her shoulders. my dear
ncle-minister." she conf1ded to her
charming reflection, II don't really be-
lieye you could make me happy-in
Eastville"
kilograms In Eastville were usually
associated with death or disaster, 80
when David Randolph received vel
low envelope his mother waited in
suspense as he read the brief message.
What Is IT, she asked impatiently,
while his puzzled expression changed
to one of amusement.
THE Golden Butterflies have arrived
In New York." he answered dryly. land
am to meet 'Maisie' at Eastville sta.
ton at 8 o'clock tonight"
"Maisie," the old lady repeated
doubtfully.
Rain came pelting against the study
windows, and the wind, screechine
down the garden path. threw wide the
door. A girl stood there In the aper-
ture. wearing,a fur trimmed scarlet
, cloak, whose hue rivaled the freight;
she tilted back her head in order to
glance from beneath the huge brim OF
plume decked hat.
"You did not hear me knock" she
announced. I'm Maisie."
The young pastor came forward
quickly. Your telegram has Just
reached u.s." he explained. II ex-
pected to meet you on the 8 o'clock
train"
Maisie laughed. II intended to leave
New York later" she said. when
you know me better you will learn that
the unexpected usually happens where
| am concerned
With sudden impulse the elder wo-
man took the other. scarlet cloak and
all, into her embrace.
Granddaughter. don't go back to
that life," she said stay and take
your fathers place in our home"
The girl drew In her breath sharply.
Il will stay as long as you wish" she
replied. IF you will IKE me for my
own sake"
So the Golden Butterflies packed up
and left New York, while Maisie re
manned at the quiet parsonage. The
hitherto silent house now rang with
her gay songs and laughter, and the
creases and lines which dull care
had traced upon the tired pastors
face vanished. Maisie laid aside the
scarlet cloak and monstrous hat at his
bidding, and with sigh of regret fold
ed away the orange silk which had
caused such tumult Of criticism
among his congregation She even
endea vored TO smooth back the riotous
curls which had been her pride and
appeared at church one day with neat
ly banded hair and attired In a gray
gown of severe simplicity. 1t was
pleasant to remember. as the pastor
went about his duties, that Maisit
would be there to welcome him wher
he returned, and be would hasten his
steps In anticipation. 1t was pleasant
also for the old lady TO sit resting II
the twilight as Maisie sang the hall
forgotten songs-ending up, perhaps
with very modern burst of ragtime
But gradually a cloud appeared upor
this happy horizon: the girl herself
grew restless and dissatisfied; sht
spent afternoons In the city. returning
at evening silent and depressed.
"Do you think" the young ministe
asked haltingiy. that It Is the old lii
calling her backT
His mother hesitated a momens
David" she said presently, did 1
ever occur to you that Maisie MAJ
have a loverY
His face turned strangely white
lyon mean be asked abruptly.
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