The Richmond Virginian. (Richmond, Va.) 1910-1920, 1912-04-10

Copyright. 1919. by the Associated
Literary Press.)

! Frank BonnelI. with sober convic-
| ton. We've been engaged for q
year. You don't want to get mar
ricd: you have never wanted to
marry. You can't love me-"
Indeed do. Frank" pretty Dolly
assured him. But we're both 80
younx; let's enjoy ourselves for
awhile longer"
| We ought to be making a home. "
/ returned Bonnef1, seriously. And
| marriage isn't martyrdum. We will
I he far happier married than we are
now. ssar.'>
There are lot of ugly things in
married life, Frank. A man .doesn't
realize that as keenly as a woman.
| He can get away from most Of them.
There's cooking and sweeping and
| sewing and dishes to wash. and
planning and skimping and doing
{ without. Nearly all the married
women ! know are putting last years
feathers in this years hats, and max
Ing over coats and dresses. That
isn't any fun
There was hurt look in Bonnells
eyes. Il haven't any too much sal
airy, Dolly" he admitted slowly.
But I thought love would make 1t
sweet
Dolly looked away. nervously. but
she kept on. Another thing I
can't help thinking about. Frank, Is
being together day after day and
year after year. Wouldn't we get
terribly tired of each other7"
Dolly" began BonnelI, but she
stopped him. desperately.
mo: let me finish. When don't
| feel like talking to people and being
agreeable in the mornings. now.
stay in bed. II we were married. I'd
have to get up just the same. In curl
papers and wrapper. suppose, and
be Aunshaven. nd cross because the
coffee wasn't good. and would read
your newspap per, and go away with
out kissing me- couldn't stand II.
Frank"
Bonnelfs face was white as he
rose, II believe you're right. Dolly"
| he said quietly. III that's the way
you feel about It. won't urge you
any more. don't want to marry
you until you are ready. II I were
/. to overpersuade you now. It would
only mean unhappiness and disaster.
won't urge you again. Dolly. When
YOU change your mind, you must tell
me-"
Miss Fairbanks-you are Miss
| Fairbanks. aren't your
Dolly stopped at the old woman's
question. yes. l am Miss Fair
banks
And your father Is the poor super
i intendent?"
Yes. papa.s on the board
TIN Mrs. Samuel Harris. Won't
YOU please come into the house a
minute? I'd like TO speak to you"
She clasped her worn old hands
eagerly.
The house was far from being pre-
tenttous. 1t was one-storied. weather.
beaten and implanted. Here and there
shingles were gone from the low roof.
The faded chimney had dropped
bricks A small window pane had
been broken. and was replaced with
! a piece Of cardboard. But somehow.
| The uneven sidewalk leading to the
street had been swept clear Of snow.
and the hinges OF the eagging gate
| had been reinforced with leather.
| Within were evidences Of stark pow
erty. The tiny cook stove had been
moved from the kitchen In the rear
| to the living room for the warmth II
afforded. There was little heap
of coal and wood in the basket be-
side It. Tattered blankets had been
tackled over the doors to keep out
the blasts or winter. The pine table.
IscrupuIousiy clean. held but a dozen
thick. white dishes. The plates and
saucers showed yellow cracks. and
the handles had long since been brok-
en- off the cups.
Mrs. Harris, with anxious courtesy,
pulled out battered rocker for her
guests and sat down herself on the
only other chair the room boosted.
She was beautiful old woman,
with silvcry hair that rippied . bit
from the parting. and an air OF placid
Econtentment. Now. however, there
was trouble in her eyes.
The poor supertntendents were
here yesterday" she began abruptly.
Samuel was away and haven't told
him. But they said It was costing
the county too much to support us
In our own home. We must go TO
the county house"
"Oh," hreathed Dolly with ready
sympathy. that's really too bad.
Mrs. Harris hopiesiy. You know.
he'. An old man now, and old people
don't like to change. Our habits rule
us. And everythings been Just so
with US for many years.
Up there he'll miss his work.
Here there are errands to do and his
wood to saw and split. In summer
there's the garden to plant and tend.
Last season (proudlyl We raised
enough cabbages and potatoes for our
own nee. The county has to spend
four dollars a week on us. though
ana they think that's too much. l
she sired and went On: we've
been hAppy In this 1ittle house. We
have lived right here since eighteen
etxty-itve. It seems too bad We
have TO leace It. We're attached to
Il. Our hildren were born here
Cant they-yOur children help
YOU now" ventured Dolly. :.
sThsy're dead. all three OF them,
replied Mrs Harris. simply. We've
no relatives living any more. But
we're clad We have each other"
Tho silence hurt Dolly. She felt
that she had come to the defense Of
her father and the other poor com
miasioners. Really. Mrs. Harris
YOU will like the county house after
YOU have been there . little while.
It's very comfortable--stean am heated,
and with good soft beds. The food
i splendid. And Mr.. Bose and hia
wife--they are the oversesr and the
matron, you know--Ars very GOOD and
kind. The old people ont there seem
very contented."
Mrs.. Harris nodded - II she had
heard all these arguments before.
1.-The food u better than We can at