Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1914-11-05
Evening Story
LADIES OF SHALLOT.
Nv Martha McC. Williams.
Downright, 1918, by the Mcclure News
paper Syndicate.

Ludmilla, idly drumming a misty
name turned from the rainy world
without to say half dreamily, Il won
der" H., -,
"What?" Beth asked from the Pill
lows in which she had buried herself
making believe to read for the nun
dredth time "The Spectator.
The fire was nearly out, the room
growing chilly-damp. Ludmilla shiv-
cred family as she answered, Il won
der-how it would feel to live where
things really happened-every day
You'll keep on wondering shall
never know" Beth said bitterly. She
wen, to the hearthside, fumbled in the
wocdbox, found nothing, made TENT
of putting together the brands teeoiy
smoldering, then sank into the easiest
chair, holding her hands toward the
smoking pile and running on: There s
a law against burying folks alive-al-
ter they are thought to be dead. wlsh
we could change it-seems to me us
wickeder to bury them fully alive
flush" Ludmilla interrupted. BE
thankful we are alive. Think what 1t
must be to"
Don't throw old Miss Julian at me-
Beth broke in rebelliously. I'D take
her chances-wheel chair, hump and
all-rather than this life of ours
that isn't life at adjust going to bed,
getting up. eating the things we can
afford and all the while pining for
those we can't afford, never having
anything new-not even book. we
have to take our turn and the library
makes us wait fiendishly-never going,
nor seeing, nor doing anything. She
can do just what she 1ikes-and has
been all round the world. We could
70 too, if we had not been born Ais
tons" curdling emphasis on the name.
II wish we were Smiths or Browns,
or even poor white Tiptons. They do
at least go to camp meeting, get re-
ligion every summer, lose it every win
ter at the Christmas dances-and have
the fun of getting saved all over again.
LudmiIla looked at her cousin, her
gray eyes unfathomable. Beth sat up
frowning, and clinching her hands. AT
ter minute kudmilla half whispered,
IT ought to scold you-hard-but-I
can't. For that is just how feel my
self-so hard think I shall run away
before long"
was always the leading spirit. She
herself in her widest rebellion had
never more than toyed with the
thought of escaping into the big bust
ness world. They had the farm, the
old house in which they had grown up,
and very little money outside of it.
Mrs. Aston, Ludmilla's stepmother,
managed everything-and ruled with
hand of iron She had life home with
them-together the three could man
age a decent if bare existence. Defec-
ton of one meant privation for the
others.
In her own Grabbed way Mrs. Al
ston loved Ngirls-Beth rather more
than her stepdaughter-buts she would
not let herself realize that they were
women grown-rising twenty, pretty
and spirited Since they could not go
about as became Alstons, nor hold
their own in proper company, she had
decreed they should stay at home, as
solitary almost as nuns, going among
their poorer neighbors now and then
on errands of succor, but never in the
least having social touch with them.
A faded beauty, well born but dover
less, Mrs. Ralston had married late, !
and felt it a personal grievance that
she had been widowed within five
years, just as she had helped her hus-
band free himself from debt. She would
have helped him thrive if only he had
lived hence her grudge against fate.
Soured, hopeless, she was content to
live sequestered making not the least
effort to give her charges the social
outlet their youth demanded. Marriage |
for them was indeed the thing she
dreaded-it would mean breaking up
the home, unless Ludmi1la would be |
sensible and accept Millard Teesdale, |
whose farm adjoined theirs, and who, !