A SPINSTER’S SECRET

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 23, Issue 8, 30 January 1912, Page 3

A SPINSTER’S SECRET

O'S xohx u. uAJrmam, ■

Little Mfaa Sophie was an old maid, which means that she had passed 36 without eithe* A serious courtship, an offer of marriage or the least indication that she would ever experience either. Once, indeed, when she was quite a child —only 24 —there had been a young man, a very pious, well-mannered young clergyman, who—'but that seemed like a dream to Miss Sophia now. She might hare doubted whether he ever lived if be had not given her that little old Book oi Common Prayer and the laded daguerreotype of himself in that little folding com in the corner of the “what not.' For four years now Miss Sophie had been “mothering" the two children of her dead sister. Until Mattie grew old enongh and strong enough to go to work Aunt Sophie had been hard put to it make end* meet in the little household, isae had sewed and mended, milked her Own cow, tended her own chickens, cooked, scoured and sawW to keep Mattie and the bor, Harry, decently at school. She had even Tound time to dp some plain sewing for the neighbors, and it was agreed on all sides that Aunt Sophie hadn’t "a lazy bone in her body.” Mattie’s wages as a “machine girl" in the button factory helped wonderfully in this small household, but it made the old maid’s heart bleed to see her set off for the shop every morning, and poor Harry, who was 10, looked very disconsolate, loitering away to school without his sister. Mr. Kingsland, the button manufacturer, : had been very kind to Miss Sophie and to Mattie. In fact, he had "made a place” for the child, and had gone out of his way to advance her in the works, with a corresponding increase of pay. But he was a practical business man for all that, and the hours were long, the work hard and the wages not over much. In little towns like Belleville everybody knows everybody, and Mr. Kingsland had special reasons for knowing Aunt Sophie. Her brother had worked in the factory, and it seemed quite fair and ; natural that he should be kind to the orphans. But this kind of intern* hardly explained his first visit to the old maid’s house, nor the repeated attentions which he showed them. He was forever asking her advice about the treatment of the girls at work in his factory,, and Sunday seldom I passed without a visit, long or short, from ’’ Mr. Kingsland. He was pleased to take tea with them once or twice, and he showed such an interest in "her children,” such a fatherly regard for Mattie, such an amused friendship for little Harry, such a frank and generous desire to be kind to everyone, that little Miss Sophie came to regard him ae something leas i than a wealthy patron, something more than a mere acquaintance. There was no nonsense about him, and his presence in the house, though a cause of restraint at first for both Mattie and her brother, came to seem so natural that the cheerful little . housekeeper always laid his plate for Sunday I supper, and the girl and her brother always dressed in their finest and smiled their sweetest when they knew he was coming. Sometimes when the. children were not present he would sit in the veranda with Miss Sophie and- tell her old stories of hie past life—plain, unvarnished tale# of his struggles for an education and a living—on unromantic story full of the grim realities of I a poor boy’s hopes and disappointments, He had never married. He had been too busy with the harsher affairs of life. “I don’t know that anyone would have me,” he would laugh. “I’m 60 years old, a plain old boar; »ow, don’t you think so, Miss Sophie?" And she would reply with some trite old sophistry, as "Handsome is as handsome .tloes," or "Never too late to mend,” But when he was gone, a lonesome giant trudging away to his furnished room in the hotel," she would ait alone for hours after the children wore gone to bed and wonder if his visits, if his confidential manner and talk, if his extraordinary interest in her and the little onee "meant anything.” And if so? “Suppose,” she would say, looking into her tittle mirror at her own round, cheerful, wholesome face, "suppose he should ? What? Ask you to nang him. What would you eayf' And she wcsffd smile a little doubtfully, as she shook her head, and, putting out the light, l|y down to think it all over. There was nothing particularly romantic about Miss Sophie. She was a demure, modest lit-. tie soul, but, being a woman, she could not avoid pondering such a denouement for this persistent , friendship of.a man whom every- ■ body admired and respected. It was in such terms that she thought of him. He was no hero in her eyee, for the little old maid didn’t "go in" for heroes.- She fancied that he would make a gentle, "eafe" husband for any woman, and—- " He’s like a father to the children nl» ready,” she caught herself saying one night. -And after that she thought of Kingsland in a new light. What an advantage it would be for Mattie and Harry to have a guardian, a protector, -a father like that? Mattia, poor child, was not fitted for such hard work. The opportunities for a girl, or even for a boy, were eo small in the small town. Then they were sueh pretty, imaginative, amiable children. She, Aunt Sophie, had already determined to devote her life to them. Why not complete her devotion to them b^-"mar-rying Kingsland”? Her reflections always came back to that. At last one night he a little later than usual, while Mattie and Harry were at the concert.. Miss Sophie noticed that he was "dressed up,” and she felt the fever of curiosity and fear come into her plump cheeks and bright eye*. She had let him into the little parlor, and was about to fight the lamp, but he stopped her with: ."Don’t miad the light, Miss Sophie. Ijast r want to. say a few things. 1 feel more collected, easier, ia the dark.” The scareddittle spinster wondered if she might faint, but sat down in the far corner with a queer little sigh. He went on, speaking rapidly and very plainly: “I am thinking of getting married, Mis* Sophie. That is, within the next year or so. Meanwhile I want to do something for-you—tie children. I’d like to send Mattie to some good school. No, no! She needn’t know anything aboutit. And Harry—l want Harry to keep on at school and take a course of manual training. It can be a secret between us—between you and me. Will you agree to help me do this, Soph—Miss Sophie V "Oh, yes, Mr. Kiugslaud. |i is kind, eq kind of you, but, but kqw or# wahowpeg- ft will cost so much.” "Nevermind that—no w,” h® eaJd. "I Sfaat Mattie for my wife—" “Mattie!” she whispered, choking down* sob, wondering at her own composure. ''Yes, Miss Sophie, Mattie. I haven’t said a word to her. I mean to give her a little more education—without her knowing, and then, if she will have me—what’s the matter, Miss Sophia?" For the poor little woman was weeping. But she crime! herself directly and said; ‘•But if the wows have you then?" "Oh, I'll this# no less of her and—and—we’ll keep this fifeeret between gtswcwj-Hesald, ■