The midland journal., 1917-01-19
CHAPTER u.


Sidney could not remember when
her Aunt Harriet had not sat at the
table. It was one Of her earliest dis
illusionments to learn that Aunt Har-
riet lived with them, not because she
wished to, but because Sidney's father
had borrowed her small patrimony and
she was boarding it out"
Eighteen years she had 'bOarded 1t
out" Sidney had been born and
grown to girlhood; the dreamer father
had gone to his grave, with valuable
patents lost for lack Of money to re-
new then-gone with his faith in him.
self destroyed, but with his faith in
the world undiminished-for he left his
wife and daughter without a dollar of
life insurance.
Harriet Kennedy had voiced her own
view Of the matter, the day after the
funeral, to one of her neighbors:
HE left no insurance. Why should
he bother? He left me-"
To the little widow, her sister, she
had been NO less bitter, and more ex-
phcit.
1T looks to me. Anna" she said, "as
II by borrowing everything I had
George had bought me, body and soul,
for the rest Of my natural life. Pfl
stay now until Sidney is able to take
hold. Then I'm going to live my own
life. 1t win be little late, but the
Kennedy's live long time."
The day Of Harriet's leaving had
seemed far away to Anna Page. Sid
ney was still her baby. She had given
up her dolls, but she still made clothes
for them out of scraps from Harrfet's
sewing room. In the parlance of the
Street, Harriet "sewed"-and sewed
well.
She had taken Anna into business
with her, but the burden Of the part
nership had always been on Harriet.
To give her credit, she had not COM
planned. She was past forty by that
time, and her youth had slipped by In
that back room with it's dingy wall
paper covered with paper patterns.
On the day after the arrival Of the
roomer, Harriet Kennedy came down
to breakfast a little late. Katie, the
general-housework girl, was serving
breakfast. Mrs. Page, who had taken
advantage of Harriet's tardiness to
read the obituary column in the morn
'Rg paper, dropped it.
But Harriet did not sit down.
"Sidney."
'sYes, Aunt Harriet"
''Sidney, when your father died,
promised to look after both You and
your mother until you were able to
take care of yourself. That was five
years ago. OF course, even before that
/ had helped to support you"
'1f you would only have your coffee
Harrietr'
Mrs. Page sat with her hand on the
handle of the old silver-plated coffee
pot. Harriet ignored her.
'sYou are young woman now. You
have health and energy, and you have
youth, which haven't. I'm past forty
In the next twenty years, at the out
side, I've got not only to support my
self~but to save something to keep
me after that, If / live"
Sidney returned her gaze steadily.
II see. Well, Aunt Harriet, you're
quite right. You've been a saint to
us, bat if you want to 60 away"
'.Harriet!" walled Mrs. Page, "yOu're
not thinking"
"Please, mother"
Harriet's eyes softened as she looked
at the girl.
"We can manage," said Sidney Qui-
etly. "WelI miss you, but it's time
we learned to depend on ourselves"
After that, in torrent, came Harri-
cts declaration of independence. And
mixed with its pathetic tumble of re-
examinations, hostility to her sisters
dead husband, and resentment fGr heI
lost years, came poor Harriet's hopes
and ambitions, the tragic plea Of 6
woman who must substitute for the Op
timisa and energy Of youth the grin
determination of middle age.
'T can do good work." she finished
'rm full of ideas, If could get Q
: chance to work them out. But there's
chancd here. There isn't woman
Z on the Street who knows real clothes
when she sees thera."
Mrs. Page could not get back Of
Harriet's revolt to its cause. To her
Harriet was not an artist pleading fol
her art; she was a sister and bread
winner deserting her trust.
"Tm sure" she said stifiy, I'VE pale
you back every cent we borrowed. Il
you stayed here after George died. 4
was because you offered to-"
Her chin worked. She fuEabled fcl
handkerchief at her belt. But Sid