The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1942-11-20

and cars, its noise and progress.
''Old girls" were twenty, found
employment under responsible Gus
tody" in the unknown world, and
disappeared; new girls came in,
small and frightened and homesick
even from the most unfit and
wretched Of homes, or rebellious
and angry and full Of muttered
threats of escape.
So Cherry, formally discharged
from the books as Charlotte Raw
lings," with due details Of her adj
mission and her thirteen years resi-
dence at the convent entered upon
forrnidable-looking graph, was not
as entirely unprepared for entrance
into the world as her custodlans
might have fancied her to be.
At leaving, Cherry wore the con-
vent uniform of black serge and
white collar, and a round hat like
small black basket turned upside
down. The hat dated back some
ten years, but it was a hat, and
that was all that girls from Saint
Dorothea's expected of headgear.
Mother Superior had given her
the ten dollars with a parting word
of instruction. This money was for
any emergency; her tickets and
meals on the train would be paid
for by the Sisters in whose care
she was travelling.
s'This wouldn't have been my
choice Of school for you, Cherry"
the nun had said. "I've been con-
sidering in my own mind whether
I ought to say this much to you,"
she added, sand I've asked for guild
ance in the matter. But there seems
to be no harm in telling you that !
felt-and dear Mother Bertrand felt,
thirteen years ago-that you should
have been one Of the Victor street
girls. Our school here is for cases
that are underprivileged-for girls
who are definitely unfortunate, per-
haps through no fault of their own.
However, the servant--your moth
er's servant, who brought you here
was very definite that it had been
her wish to put you with us. Mrs.
Haskell - Emma - you remember
her? you will see her now-had
known a fine woman who became
one of Saint Dorothea's Sisters, and
through her she knew exactly the
character of our work."
81 remember Emma" Cherry had
stammered, almost faint with this
final excitement. There had not
been any especial stigma attached
to her name then; she might have
been one of the Victor street girls!
Sister Fabian and Sister Gervase
were both indisposed on the train.
They did not want any supper; they
had the three berths made up inn
mediately, and Cherry left them to
the little room, found a window
seat in the empty length Of the car
and sat, fascinated, watching the
landscape flying by.
She jumped when old DR..
O'Conner touched her arm, real
lied that she was hungry, went
with. him through the swaying
train to the dining car.
and was so rapt over its light
and warmth and the bewilder-
ing obligation of ordering something
from menu for the first time in
her life that tea and biscuits and
honey were all she could murmur
when her companion poised his PEN
ell over the order blank.
Both little nuns were tucked up in
bed when she cautiously entered the
drawing room. Cherry had the
lounge, and slept the sleep of youth
and fatigue within its narrow boun-
diaries. Breakfast was another adj
venture-such smoking coffee, such
buttered toast!-and the long day
that dragged for almost everyone
else on board was too short for her.
But at quarter past seven o'clock
for the train was late-when they
descended somewhat grimy and jad-
ed at the Oakland Mole, sheer ner-
vous excitement and expectation had
exhausted her. She was pale, too
much absorbed in her own emotions
to notice the effect of her chauffeur.
He was quickly identified by the
wearied Sisters, and Cherry in her
turn identified the nice middle-aged
maid who had accompanied him.
May, the housemaid, who had
been sent to meet her, was really,
Cherry discovered, Mrs. Mott who
had two almost grown boys. But
she was May" to the whole house.
hold, she said goodhumoredly. and
Miss Cherry had better call her so.
"I'm not going to live at the
Marshbanks', Cherry told her.
'I'm going to take a position"