Evening star., 1912-07-21

sympathy stirred in the girls generous
bosom.
You mustn't think that" she said.
soothinsly. I'm sure there must be
plenty of maids
There's only one Sidonie." declared
madame. with vigor. That animal she
cried. Think of it. For ten-no. for
more years than | can say. without stop
ping to reckon, she has been my servant.
One doesn't uproot from ones heart the
association of that time and not feel 1t!
She was a paragon of maids: she under
her a word of her duties. Ii is true she
would steal my trinkets and pawn them
for money to get drunk on she would lie
to me and carry tales to tura me- against
my companions-she had got rid of. at
! least. one rival every year by such
means. but. then. | could say anything
to her. She was the only maid i ever
had who could endure my temper. ]
have a filthy temper, said Nine. Sa-
varan. complacently.
'And you don't think you could take
her back"
What? That snake? That migrate.
Neverrr!' the old lady swore. cheerfully.
'Anything but treachery / could stand;
but let that once show its head. and 1t is
oyer-all-everythng is finished She
waved her hands excitedly, folded them
and breathed. or rather sighed. plaintive
ly. a three-ply. copper-riveted maledic-
tion on the head of the departing maid.
Shocked, Cynthia involuntarily sat bolt
upright. eyeing madame in wide dismay.
The movement did not pass unremarked.
Il do swear wonderfully, observed
madame. Sometimes | surprise even
myself. But it is a great comfort. You
mustn't mind: you'll get used to it in
time
.I.' Cynthia exclaimed. amazed.
"You-certainly-my dear Why, do
you imagine. did l call You back if l in
tended to let you leave me-"
You needn't think L hold it against
you that You were sent me by that red
headed blackguard, Rhode. 1t only goes
to prove that good may come OF evil.
You see. my dear, l believe you. and
don't believe that IL you were to attach
yourself to me you'd sell me, like that
" that" repeated madame, slowly:
then she got her faculties well in hand,
and with the careful deliberation Of the
true artist, thoughtfully. fully and freely
delivered herself Of a character sketch of
Sfdonie, forgetting. eXtenuating ard omit
ting nothing, working up through we'll
chosen epithet and simile neatly applied
to a soul-stirring, hair-raising. biistering.
blasting peroratiop that borrowed it's
bolts from the skies and sifted the abyss
for it's metaphors
When she had finished. Sidonies ante
mortem obituary had been written by
master hand. Stunned. breathless. hard
ly able to credit her hearing, Cynthia re-
mained spellbOund, unable to associate
such fearful powers of expression and
the comely old lady with the stately man.
ner moderated by a glow OF creative en-
thusiasm and obvious self-approval. from
whose lips the TRADE issued.
Then the heavens cleared Nine. Sa-
varan folded her hands. compressed her
mouth primly and smiled radiating good
nature.
Il feel better now" she remarked.
We'll forget il and say more about
it, 1t was Cynthia's thought that she
had left nothing unsaid. It's a great
comfort TO be old enough to have a
safety valve like that, really; ever so
much better than what fools call a good
cry. Besides, women don't cry much, ex-