A Woman Named Smith

e middle of the Elysian Fields, plaster it over with "No Trespassing" signs, and then settle herself down to a blissful eternity of serving writs upon the angels for flying ov

because she had never laid eyes on me-she willed me Hynds House and what was left of the Hynds fortune; tying this string to her beques

ld discover that historic Hynds House, dating from the beginning of things Carolinian, had passed into the unpedigreed hands of a woman named Smith. I can fancy her balefully exact percep

marriage; she having, when she was no longer what is known as a spring chicken, met my

my father, George Smith, was a ruddy English ship-chandler who pitched upon Boston for a home, and lived with his family in the rooms above his shop; and my grandmother Smith dropped her "aitches" with the cheerful ease

ss: There's a hess and a hay and a hell and tw

the fact that my mother's pink-and-white English face was a gentler copy of what her uncle's had been in his youth; and

e emerged only to sue somebody. She said the world was being turned topsyturvy by people who were allowed to misbehave to their betters, and who nee

adn't been able altogether to wreck, dwindled to a mere fifteen thousand dollars; and she wasn't on speaki

r her soul's sake every now and the

o see me, hey? Well, you'

ing in time a myth to me, and to Hyndsville as well; where they referred to her, succinctly, as "the Scarlet Witch." I heard from her directly only onc

't be: one's a school-teacher, the other a minister's wife. If I had to marry the average minister, I should infallibly hate all church-

step, from what may be called a rookie in the outside office, to private secretary to the Head. And I'd been a business woman for all of seventeen years when Great-Au

iry-story come true! Think of falling heir to an old, old, old lady's old, old, old house, in South Carolina! I hope th

and maybe big, big old rats that squeak o' nights," I said darkly. For the first raptu

y person I have ever seen who can cry and look pretty while she's doing it; also, she can cry and laugh at the same time, being Irish. Some foolish people, who have been deceived by Alicia Gaines's baby sta

s. Lately, I'd gotten her into our filing-department. She didn't belong in a business office, she who

here'd be no living in any old house," I reminded her, practically. "My

kled her wh

y not in the least agree with me. Why, this means changing all my fixed habits, to trot off to li

ia, dimpling. "And as for that new soil, why, you'll bloom in it! You-well, Sophy dear, up to now yo

irl who was admittedly the worst file-clerk on record; and sh

of finding an attic that's been shut up and forgotten for ages and ages, and discovering all sorts of lovely things in all sorts of hiding-places. When I think my day-dream may come true for you, Sophy, it almost reconcil

o keep it-it has been borne in upon me that you are just about the worst file-clerk on earth. You're a navy-blue failure in a business office. Business isn't your motif. Now, will you resi

ase, please, Sophy dear, don't joke lik

, any more than I contemplate going down there by myself, if I can help it? Stop to think for a moment, Alicia. You have been like a l

neck. Those young arms were beginning to make me feel wistful. If things had been different-if

he best I could do was to drop a kiss on Alicia's forehea

of what was in store for us, Alicia Gaines and I turned ou