The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1922-03-11
THE d
ST HORT STORY
Sour Cranes
q Mar.ha Mecu!Iooh wIIIIams

By Martha YeculIoeh Williams
/ !ttTs Owe Is tho law OF my being.
my real life, indeed Miss
Maitland sighed uncotuous.
~ to Prof. Grant. lifting her eyes
then instantly dropping them as
though abashed by such approach
to self revelation. She was by es-
tate. a spinister Of uncertain age.
thirty in her own, rose-lighted par.
ior something far beyond that in
plain une1uivocal daylight. BY
profession on-hunting was her
specially. Since she was more than
rich and in the very forefront Of
clnbdom, she had splendid chances
for her favorite pastime.
But like John Gilplns wife, she
had a frugal mind. Other folk
might extrayagantly dine and wine
< and make house:guests OF visiting
celebrities-the town went In for
culture up to its elhows-hut she
confined her efforts to afternoon
receptions; they were too elabor.
ate to be classed as teas.
Since she had her pick, OF the
lions the receptions were not too
many, three at most in a season,
but they gave her liberty to be
among those present whenever cell
ebrity was on view Of hearing in
other houses. Her guest list was
highly coatholic: being a highbrow
reformer to the bone. she made a
point OF ringing in now and again
some one OF her tradespeople-
milliner. caterer, florist, whatnot-
and showed them as fine high
courtesy that made the new-rich
stare.
She belonged. you see, to the
holders Of unearned increment =
there were three generations b.
between her and the ancestral
blacksmith whose shop had grown
up into a big pillow factory. OF
course. the folks who kowtowed to
her saw in these casual guests
proof Of her sincere democracy,
her excellent heart-no less. But
there were captious ones who
sheered that she had more substan.
tial reasons; that such Invitations
were paid for in discounts and
special privileges. But they were
nothing compared to the unbeliey-
ing multitude which was wont to
say OF her favorlte platitude, Love
isthe law Of my being" that It was
gospel truth, since Miss Maitland
loved nobody, but herself. Her
money. Of course, being impersonal,
ranked above humanity.
Orphaned ten years at least, and
without brother or sister, she lived
alone in grand, rather gloomy
house, setiin a wide yard at the
top Of the avenue-the towns
finest street. Elspeth Cameron, her
cousin companion, Of course did
< not count. A small mousey faith
tnl person, lacking other shelter,
with barely enough income to
,tiothe herself scantily, and neither
Attaining nor opportunity for work,
shetwas Cousin Annals willing and
grateful slave, effacing herself joy
4 ouHly at need in the other woman's
Service. She got in return not
undndly tolerance many half-worn
garments and a sort OF moonlight
social position.
Cousin Anna was glad 10 have
Elspeth included in Invitations, but
adroit in SO arranging things that
they could rarely be accepted Els.
Speth, you see, was like the paying
guests-with "a difference. that
she paid as sign manual OF Miss
Maitland's philanthropy. This, in
addition to being secretary, seam
Estfess In extraordinary, errand girl,
maid and overscer of the servants,
was no bad return.
Elspeths heart sang sometimes
at thought OF her future II Cousin
Anna should marry. But she
bravely masked her tremors and
made the small jests as to wooers
her benefactress purred under.
Miss Maitland had truly had beaux
q plenty-but for the most part
they had evidently been captiyes'