Master of the Vineyard

le Bro

r for R

mother of her entire innocence in the matter. Even on the following day, when she brought it home, in the original wrapping, she felt herself regarded with secret s

ugar and five cents' worth of tea for old Mrs. Simms. She pressed her nose to the glass, and squinted, but the addre

and

om Alden, but was addressed in an unfamiliar hand. Regardless of the defere

ar Ros

ernoon about four? We have a guest w

ionatel

the

serve and distance but the signature thrilled her through and through. "Mother!" she repeated, in a whispe

n though it meant facing Grandmother,

ea-party. That meant that she must somehow get her old white muslin down from the attic, iron it, mend it, and freshen it up as best she could. She had no doubt of

t Lon

n? Why not, for once, make a bold declaration of independence, and say, calmly: "Grandmother, I am going to Mrs. Marsh's Saturday after

stay at home. Perhaps she could wear the brown gingham if it were fresh and clean, and she pinned at her throat a bow of the faded pink ribbon she had found in her mother's trun

came back to her in which she had found consolation many times before. "When an insurmountable obstacle presents itself, somet

t of

ified Grandmother with a bit of news which

with an assumed carelessness which deceived

with a sharp clatter. "You don't tell m

've had your nose in that fool paper all day, and whenever I spoke to you you told me not to int

hing important," murmured

ned Matilda, logically, "befo

ich meant much or little, as one might choose. A dull red burned on her wit

-Actin

on, after an aggravating silence

in the neighbourhood than entertainin' strangers." This shaft pierced a vulnerable spot

eek ago and last Saturday she was to the post-office, and up the

sed for a moment, th

re trunk that looks like a dog-house, and another big trunk that a person could move into if there wasn't no other house handy, and another trunk that was packed so full that it had bulged out on all side

nt's

did she come from? How long is she goin' to

in the wash. The stocking was all silk, and she said she never see such nightgowns. They was fine enough for best summer dresses, and all lace, and one of 'em had a blue satin bow on it, and what was strangest of all was that

ejaculated

ame colour. He see her on the porch for a minute, and all he could look at was that hair. And when he passed 'em on the river-road after they come from th

ing the

aw it once," Grandmother muttered. "There ai

orted Matilda, viciously. "All we'll ever

ite dress and go to see Mrs. Marsh, to-morrow or next day, after I get the work do

, then both women turned to her. "You!"

, "I reckon you'll be puttin' on your best dress a

oin' to see a woman what ain't seen fit to return a

Grandmoth

a," exclaimed

insurmountable stone wall. She shrugged her shoulders good-humoured

tep F

ly finished. Out in the kitchen, she sang as she worked, and only a close observer would have detecte

ly in order to heat the oven for a special sort of tea-biscuit of which Grandmoth

s a foothold," she said to herself

sit up late, solving a puzzle in The Household Guardian for which a Mission ro

nt Matilda, "as I'm

es on the mantel, "to the kind they give missionaries. I've se

than

ght down the clean white muslin, and, with irons scarcely hot enough, pressed it into some semblance of fres

t put on the white gown with one of the brown ones over it and take

he brought down the faded pink ribbon that had been her mother's. That night she discovered that neither of the brown ginghams would go over the white muslin, as they had shrun

was nothing more that anyone could think of for her to do until it was time to get supper. She had put the white go

n the

in their chairs. The kitchen clock struc

her of you would like

aid Gra

Then she added: "Why? Were

"if there was nothing more for me to do. It's suc

r said, generously: "Go on, Rosemary, and get all the f

d rest," Aunt Matilda commented, fretfully, but the d

strikes down th

yes upturned,

ing now thrills t

throat to you

ry Mee

urt, the one word "Mother," and the greater, probable joy that overshadowed it. Of course he would be there! Why not, when he knew she was coming to tea-an

pened the door.

sh! Please, j

the living-room, offering a rough, red hand to an exquisite creature who seemed a blurred mass of pale green and burnished gold, r

ation, which Madame hastened to explain. "It's raw and cold still," she said, "in spite of t

fortable

ith. Then Alden came in and shook hands kindly with Rosemary, though he had been secretly annoyed when he learned she was coming. Afterward, he had a bad quarter of an hour with himself while he en

periority, she did not show it. She accorded to Rosemary the same perfect courtesy she showed Mada

sometimes came when one thought it was almost Summer, the perfect blend of Madame's tea, the quaint Chinese pot, and

nto the C

," or "No." Alden, pitying her from the depths of his heart and yet secretly a

eaves by which she might divine the future, then went to Rosemary, a

"Suppose we try the crystal ball? I've been wanting to d

wed her over to the table, where the

it?" asked Ed

od light, shade you

peered into the crystalline depths. "There's nothing here," she continued, somewhat fretfully, to Alden, "exce

stal ball, and had seen not only Alden, but a woman with flaming red hair, clasped close

ack

r corner. "What did you see?" queried Edith

self-possession than she had shown previously

nconsciously withdrawn into herself as some small animals shut themselves into th

at, and, as opportunity offered, to kiss her twice, shyly, on her

she said, "but tha

let me go to the

, with trembling li

h was saying to Madame: "Poor little brown mouse! How one longs to

esire for

f velvet, and put it on the highest shelf of the book

ously. "Because," returned Madame, grimly, "it'

her into a crêpe gown of dull blue-a sort of Chinese blue, with a great deal of deep-toned lace for trimming, and give her a topaz pendant se

the least know what she was talking about, but he knew tha

scape the notice of Grandmother and Aunt Matilda, but they forebore to comment upon it as long as she perfor

rtb

lpaca made according to the fashion of ten or fifteen years ago, and Mrs. Lee, beautiful, exquisit

rsh, but the pretty, girlish mother who had died in giving birth to her. Sh

he got through the evening somehow, and, at t

more, and had more? Were there not many such in the world, and had s

surance came. "She's married," said Rosemary, smiling back at th

forting

married," was her last conscious thought, and a smile lingered upon her lips as she slept. She had not enough worldly wisdom to know that, other t