SHORT STORY

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 390, 29 October 1903, Page 7

SHORT STORY

(Continued from last week.) 'lb it possible! Ye?, it mußt be. Excuse my surprise. Your aunt Mary has lived with me fer some time; hut I had entirely overlooked her last name, and thought—yes, I remember she iB Mary White. Is your aunt expecting you V The girl's voice trembled. 'Not ro EO9B. I had written her that I shonid come, bat not by this steamer.' • What, are yen just from England ?' 'Yes, MraCatot.' ' Well, I will ppeak to Mary.' 'Wait, please, Mrs Cabot. I am sure there must be some mistake from your manner. Let me go away again;' and she turned with a Eudden resolution. The driver was standing by his carriage, and watching the two ladiea curiously. The girl caught djht of his face, and turned back. 'Oh, I can't go. I have no place to go to.' ' You need not go. Here, driver, biiog up the trunks, if you pletsa;' and presently the luggage was deposited in the call, and the door wta closed. 'Now •oroe into the pat] or, and tell me exactly now it iß,' said' Mrs. Cabot. • First, what is ycur name V The question was not unkind in its tone. It had something of the reassuring ease of its position ia the catechism. H ~~ " I 'My name is Stella Qreyson, and Mrs. White is my aunt, as I said.' Miss Greyson hesitated, but as Mrs Cabot did not ask the next question, she asked it herself. 'Has my aunt never told you of her English family ?' 'No; I never asked her anything about her relations.' Miss Greyson looked puzzled. 'And yet she btß lived with you since her husband died.' ' I remember that she was a widow, but I never talk over their affairs with my—servants.' Mrs- Cabot stopped a moment before the wordt she was talking to the niece of her cook, but the niece was plainly a lady, and a very pretty lady too. Miss Greyson coloured violently. 'Thera must be some mistake, I am convinced,' she said, faintly; and then, presently, ' Mrs Cabot, iwill you kindly explain to just what my aunt's—relation to you ■ Why, I sfcs lived with me. I thought you understood it; she is iny cook I always thought her much above her station. I am sure,' she went on, rapidly, aa she saw the changing color in Miss Grey son's face, 'nothing could be more proper every way than your aunt's position. She came to me, I remember,

without iver having lived out anywhere before, but I understand perfectly her situation. Her husband had died, and she had no means of support- She was used to housekeeping, and preferred the home of a widcw Uke myaelfto any less domestic means of support. She has- been with me now a year, and we have got along admirably. I give up everything almost to her. Indeed, she is really housekeeper, and I think I ought to call her bo, but—' •ButwhatP* asked Miss Greyson, who had had time to regain her composure, * and now looked determined to hear the worst. ' Bat—oh, obly she isn't; she is cook,' said Mrs Cabot, with a helpless candor. «That's all. I had really nothing whatever against her. I have the greatest respect in the world for her.' Mrs Cabot was trying again to set np the figure which Misa Grayson's face had helped her to construct, and which had suddenly fallen over. The young lady, however, Beamed to have recovered her equanimity. ' I am extremely sorry, Mrs Cabot,' she beean, 'at this most awkward state of things. - .My aunt is. not at all to blame. She did not know I was coming, It was . entirely my own misunderstanding; but I must .take advantage of your good nature to let me pass the night, for I am an entire stranger to the city. You will pardon me, I am ture?' and she looked at Mrs Cabot with a pretty beseechingsee?, ■ Why, of course, of course, Miss Grayson. Stay as long as you like. Now shall I call l&ry—l mean Mrs White, your < Please let me go to her alone.' • Certainly, certainly. But perhaps you would rather not see her in the kitchen. There are some men there who axe looking after the sapper. Tou eee, I have a little party to-night 1 think I heard some one come just now. So you'll excuse me if i dont ask your aunt to come here? Tou might go into the diningroom—but no, they're Eetting the table now. 11l tell you how we'll manage it.

Just come into the ball, and Bit there while I have jour trunks carried upstairs. If a lucky the men are here. I'll coax them to do it, and then I'll send your aunt to Bee you in jour room. That will be the easiest.' Mrs Cabot smiled with pleasure at her management, and led Mists Gieysonout of the drawing-room. 'Oh,' she said, suddenly, ■ won't you just turn up the gas while I speak to the men ? for someone will be coming down immediately.' So aha gathered htr skirts together for an excursion-to the kitctes, and Miss Giejßon, a look at herself in the mirror, '"'jich laughed suddenly back at her, w«nt round the rccm

with alacrity turning on the gss until the chandeliers were wide-awake with brilliancy. Sbe glanced at the dcor; it gas cksed, and standing before a mirror ese made a low courtesy to her pretty figure, risißg from the salute just in time to turn a demure faca toward Mis CW»t • Now ccme- Miss Grejsoa, the coast is clear. I have a little room next to jcar aunf s which I can let you have whl'e yen ■lay.' • Ycu are vtiy, very kind, Mis Cabct. Now I want to ask anctner favour cf ycu. Let me go into the dressing-rcom and as--9 tut the ladies when they arrive.' • "Will T cu ? fiat would really be what I should like, but I never should have asked it of jou/ ■ But it was very prcper * of her to propose it,' said Mrs Cabct to herself as she went down to send Maiy to her niece* ' There is Ecmeone who would like tc Bee jcu, Mary,' Mrs Cabot paid as she entirtd the kitchen; 'lon will find her in .tht little zoom next to yours.'

Mrs. Cabot's Guest.

•To see me!' The cjok, usually eo self-possessed, was thrown into great agitation. 'Ups'airsP' •Yes; I could not ask her into the kitchen very woll/ whispered the mistress But go up—go just as you are,' and Mrs Cabot found it difficult to conceal her own lively interest. The c»k did go at once, with trepidation, but with re-assurance after Mrs Cabot's wordfl, ' Stella Greyson!' she exclaimed as she entered the room. ' Aunt Mary!' 1 What does this mean ?' 'That is what I want to know. I am covered with confusion.' ' Stella, do you know that I am cook—cock here ?' •The awful fact has been divulge! to me. I believe I'm lady's-maid, too.' ' What!' ' Help me unpack my brxes, Aunt Mary. My travelling dress is not exactly suitable. lam to assist the ladies. What larkß!' ' ' Stella, yen will do bo such tbin j.* ' Bat why not, Aunt Mary ? How else can I show proper gratitude to Mrs Cabot? She takiß me in, and she can't ask mo into her drawing-room, and I'm sure I don't want to sit up here, puking, and you don't want me in the kitcht a.' Mrs W&ite winced at the last word. The girl went en, ninibJy turning over her wardrobe. Her face was turned away, and she kept it away as aha continued: ' I can guess how it is, though I know nothing before. Yiu lad nothing to depend upon when he died, and you were "too proud to cHue back, and you thought wo were too proud to wish to think of our dear aunt Mary as co:k, and so you kspt back the worst, and let us think of you as a sort of companion to Mrs Cabot. A r.d I Lad an opportunity to go out to Henry, but he could not come from Chicago, so mother thought I would best go right to you for a day or two until you could eond me on. It's all plain, isn't it ?' and she turned about now, with tcara just dimming her eye 3. ' Yes, you have spoken truly; and Mrs Cabot is a good woman. But, Stella, shall the daughcer of the rector of Eyeringham act as a lady's maid ?' ' Eor one night only— positively her only engagement.* Mrs White s'ghed. ' I cannot say anything,' she said. ' You do notneed to say anything,' said the girl gayly. *You needn't tell Mrs Cabot I'm a lady. Let her find it cut for herself, if she can. I have ever so much family news to tell, but you really must not keep me waitißg. 1 am Bure the people are beginning to come. What a delicious introduction to American society! I shall see-it on the wrong side first. Mrs Cabot moves in the first circles? There are first circles in—Harlem, w it?

What a funny name! Was it settled by the Dutch? Is there a little organ here?' * Yes, Mrs Cabot is a lady, Stella. Her friends chiefly life in New York, and not in Harlem.'

'Oh, they come from Now York, do they ? Well, I'm safe. I only know one New Yorker. The chances are one to—whaf 8 the population of New York ?' A knock came at the doer. ' Mrs Cabot is sorry to interrupt you Mary, but she needs you.' ' I'll come at once, Ellen. Ob, Stella do Btay here. I'm troubled. I'll explaii everything to Mrs Cabot.' ' Not a word to Mrs Cabot. Lead on I'll follow.' Mrs White returned to her own qaar ters, and the girl made her way to th< room where the ladies had already begui to lay aside their wraps. She needed n<. instruction. Much practice upon eldei sistere had made her proficient, and eh rlitted about the room, giving deft touche to the toilettes of the ladies, and receiving most condescending thanks, ' What is your name, my good girl i asked one portly lady, who had come i: all askew, and for the first time in he life really looked dressed, as she prepare to go down. ' ' Stella, madam,' and she dropped

courtesy. • I shall tell Mrs Cabot she has a treasure,' said the dame, as she moved aw«y, with an inward resolve to get that treasure into her own possession as soon as possible. The girl dropped her eyes meekly, and concealed a smile. There was tor a moment no one left in the room, and she stepped to the- doorway to get a peep at - the staircase and the company. Her feet tapped impatiently as.she heard the sound of a violin. A little twinge of regret at her situation seized her. She turned to go into the room, for other ladies were coming up the staircase. At that moment she encountered a gentleman issuing from the room adjoining. She turned her head quickly, but not quickly

enough, 'Ah 1 Miss Groyson. So soon, you see. Is not this like a witticism ?—the unforoeee'n, you know, is what always happens. Who would have dreamed that I should hud Mrs Cabot's catd for me when I reached home ?' ' I did not expect to meet you here, Mr Winslow. Fray excuse me now,' and she darted off. ' I am afraid young Winslow has come home with foreign manners,' whispered Mrs Talbot to her husband as they passed down the staircase. ' You saw him speak to that pretty maid of Mrs Cabot's. You didn't see that her face was on fire when she came into the dressing-room,' ■Mighty pretty girl.' said Mr Talbot,

briefly. Mr Edward Winslow lingered about the door, but fiaally, much perplexed, went downstairs, and presented nimself to Mr i Cabot. ' I am truly delighted to see you, Mr Winslow, and only sorry that your charramg mother could not come. I call it a proof cf a glorious future for the republic, Mr Talbot, when our young gentlemen come home from Europe and immediately offer themselves to Society.' 'Verj.' 'You came this very afternoon, Mr Winslow, I think you Eaid ?' 'Yes, by the 'Polynesia.' If lam not mistakes I had the pleasure and the

honour of making tb.B acquaintance of. your niece, Mrs Cabot.' 'jily Li.;t? Ntt Serena Garland, at Dresden?' 'Oh no, I mean on the voyage. That is always tne la&t thing in my mind, of course. I mean Miss Stella Greyson.' 'Goodheavenp, Mr Winslow! This is more mysterious than ever. I don't liko the looks of it at alL' )

* But is not Misa Greyson your niece 9' 'My niece P No. Did she say that ahe rag?*

• Why, yea. She certainly said she expected to spend the night at hex auntf e, and she gava.me yonr address. I did not for the moment recognise the name of one of my motner's frioade, whoae acquaintance she had made durißg my absence-'

Mrs Cibot looked seriou3. ' Still,' she said, as if to herself, ' it might be explained.'

'Explain jit to me, then, please,' said Mr "Wihblow. • I am sure there can be nothiag— Mies Greyson is the daughter of aa English clergyman, and was certainly the most charming lady on the steamer. She was the life cf the little party into which I managed to ingratiate myself.'

Mrs Cabot hesitated. 'I hope she did not mean to convey a false impr; ssion. She ha 3 an aunt living with ma.' ' Ah, now I remember. That is what she taid.'

' But her aunt—her aunt is my cook.' Mrs Cabut longed to say :hoaeakeeper or companion, to let Mr Winslow down gently but she w«,s the soul of truthfulness. ' Really,' sbo went on, • the young —woman appears very well—very well indeed. It was a somawhat awkward situation fer her, since Bhe did not know, until she drove here, that her asnfc sustained such a relation to me' (the phrase was cumbroualy diplomatic, bub it seemed to be required by Mr. Wkslow's face) ; ' but I must say that she accepted the situation —I mean, took the thing in the best spirit, and offered to act as lady's maid this evening.' ' Oh, come now, Mrs Calot. You didn r t let her!'

' Why, yes. I thought it would relieve he*. Ah! good-eveniag, Mr Dolbear. I am very glad to ceo you. Do you know Mc Winslow, Mr Dolbear ? Mr Window has jaat returned to-day by the Polynesia;' and Mrs Ciboi; escaped much embarrassment. Bub Winslow was very ill at ease. There was Stella Greyson upstairs, a lady's maid, and ho, as ha knew perfectly well, desperately is love with' hsr, downstairs with his mother's polite friends. Eleven feet or so of between them; but a wholo degree of -social longitude. Ha danced, ho chatted, he fmiled with his old friends, but all the wbila with a remorseful feeling that he was acting a shamefaced part, and that upstairs Mies Grayson was comparing Mm with the attentive young man whom she had met in the freedom of the Polynesia quarter-deck, In point of fact; Miss Greyson was thinking of Mr Winslow. and wishing to Heaven she had not been seen by him under Buch compromising circumstances. She was not at all averse to a little lark of this sort, provided she could keep it to herself and one or two very intimate friends, but Mr Winslow was net yet to be counted among such, and bow bade fair never to come within the raßge of friendship. Why had her aunt concealed her real situation? Why had she deceived theai ? Yes, cruelly deceived them, so that her own niece, comiEg innocently to America, had fallen into this hateful trap; Sho never, never could forgive her aunt Mary, and she would go this very instant and shut hersaif up in her room, and not see anybody till she left the house, the veiy earliest hour in the morning, to takß the very first train to Cbi3Bgo, As she left the room to carry this threat into immediate execution she ran again almost into the arms of Mr Wisslow 4 who, in bis disturbance of mind, had bade goodevening to his hostess, and was coming out of the dressing-room now with his overcoat on.

• Oh, Mr Winslow!' she gasped. In bis substantial wraps, he looked at the instant as if he were going out of her world altogether. • What must you think of me?' he exclaimed. 'Of you ? It is I who must Bay that to you.' ' No, I understand it all.' He really did not quite understand it, but he could not refine at this point. ' Tell me i may come to see you to-morrow.' 'Here! In Mrs Cabot's house! Oh, never!' «Then meet me in Central Park. But no, that would never do. Where can I see you, if not here ? I will come to see you here. You must see me.' And refusing to hear any protests, he rushed downstairs.

«Oh, what shall I do ?' she exclaimed, •And I was going to Chicago the very first thing in th.3 morning.' She went up to her room to think about it, leaving the ladies to put on their wraps as well as they ould without her. Her aunt came up to see her late in the evening. 'Stella,' she whispered through the key-hole, as she got no response to her knock; but the young lady refused to give signs of hearing. Winslow/went home in a feverish frame of mind. He found his mother sitting by the fire, her headache having faded away. He sut down by bar, and looked steadily at her. 'Mother,' he began, and then stopped. •Go on, Edward. I've thought- it all out.' 'Oh, come now, you haven't secondsight.' ■ Oh, I can see through a ladder.' ' Well, tell me my dream, and the interpretation thereof.' 'No; tell me first if you think Mrs Cabot looks like her niece.' He hopped out of his chair. (To be concluded next week.)

Dr. D. has a bright little ghl about four years of age, who is very fond of dolls, and he buya a new one for her nearly every day. He bought he? a new one the other evening, but it did not appear to take her fancy at all. 'What, don't you like the nico new doll ?' he asked, after watching her a few moments.

'No j I's tired of stuff dolls. I want a real raoat baby,' sho replied, earnestly.

In one of the large factories in Nelson, recently, a bookkeeper went up to the manager, and asked him for an is crease in bis salary, saying, * I'm married, now, you know, and——' ' Oh, aye! and you want the increase for the use of your family.' • No, eir, not exactly that, I want it for myself. You see my wife knows exactly what I get now.'

'Yes, indeed/ said the steersman to the admiring young ladies j ' yes, thiß vessel makes Bixteen knots an hour.' 1 Goodness !' commented one innocent thing, ' you must use a lot of rope during the year.'

' How many girls did you make love to before you met mo ?' demanded his betterhalf, at the close of a long tirade. 1 Twelve,' groaned her husband, ' But I never counted them until it was too la'el'

FOB STAINED HANDS, Apple, potato, and most other stains can be removed from the hands by rubbing them with oatmeal moistened with lemon juice or vinegar. A nailbrush should be used all round the finger-nails. When the stain is quite removed wash with warm wates and soap. Never use soap before removing the etais, or it will be ten times more difficult to remove.