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Mother: A Story

Mother: A Story

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 4849    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

hool windows, her hands thrust deep in her coat pockets for warmth, her eyes following the whirling course of the storm that howled outside. The day had comme

orld; when the common little houses and barns, and the bare trees, lay dazzling and transfigured under the first snowfall, and the wood crackled in the schoolroom stove; and when, as to-day, midwinter rains swept drearily past the windows, and the children must have the lights lighted for their writing lesson. She was tired of it all, with an utter and hopeless weariness. Tired of the bells, and the whispering, and the shuffling feet, of the books that smelled of pen

umably, the joys of the closely approaching holidays. One or two windows had been partially opened to air the room in their absence, and Margaret's only

e hold! Sometimes, looking admiringly at her associate's crown of tawny braids, at the dark eyes and the exquisite lines of mouth and forehead, Mrs. Porter would find herself sympathetic with the girl's vague discontent and longings, to the extent of wishing that some larger social circle than that of Weston might have a chance to appreciate Margaret Paget's beauty, that "some of t

ed out at the rain together. Nothing alive was in sight. The bare trees tossed in the w

. Porter said. "You aren't going h

o dead that I'd make a cup of tea here if I didn't thi

ister alone all day," Mrs. Porter said dubiously. "There's tea and some of those bouillon cubes an

her elbows on it, pushed her hair off her forehead. The

ren't you, Margaret?

ss was too much. Ma

d I'm sick of wet cold weather and rain and snow," she added childishly. "Our house is full of muddy rubbers and wet clothes! Other people go places and do pleasant things," said Margaret, her

t, still folded, against her eyes. Mrs. Porter watched her solicitously, but silently. Outside

uble to-day, Emily, is that we just heard of Betty Forsythe's engagement-she was my brother's girl, you kn

ho to?" Mrs. Port

one-who's been visiting the Redmans," Marga

nd she's onl

Julie plugging away to get through the Normal School, so that she can teach all the rest of her life, and Betty's been to California, and been to Europe, and now is going to marry a rich New York man! Betty's the only child, you know, so, of course, she has everything. It seems so unfair, for Mr. Forsythe's salary is exactly wha

der than you are, twenty-thre

eating and sleeping-but I'm not that kind!" she went on moodily. "I used to hope that things would be different; it makes me sick to think how brave I was; but now here's Ju coming along, and Ted growing up, and Bruce'

nd as time goes on you'll find yourself getting more and more pleasure out of your work, as I do.

o teach school, live in a plain little cottage on the unfashionable Bridge Road, take two roomers, and

enty years and how my father's been tied down, and I've come to the conclusion that while there may have been a time when a woman could keep a house, tend a garden, sew and spin and raise twelve children, things ar

assented Mrs. Porter,

garet said after a pause. "B-r-r-r! this room gets cold with th

e a little gas stove and a small china closet occupied one wide shelf. The water for the tea and bouillon was pu

awny head, and a wide and toothless smile, opened the doo

heth pleath may

brothers and sisters, and a pupil of the school h

elieve,"-she said, turning, suddenly radiant, to Mrs. P

h caketh and everything!" exulted Rebecca, van

ct figure that is rarely seen except in old daguerreotypes, or the ideal of some artist two generations ago. The storm to-day had blown an unusual color into her thin cheeks, her brigh

ain just to bring us our lunches!" Margare

ent. "I love to walk in the rain, Mark; I used to love it when I was a girl. Tom and Sister are at our house, Mrs. Pot

habby suitcase, and took from it a large jar of hot rich soup, a little blue bowl of stuffed eggs, half a fragrant whole-wheat loaf in

e, you've got three-quarters of an hour. Julie devilled the eggs,

usy with cups and spoons. "You'll stay, Mother?" she

other said cheerfully. No coaxing proving of any avail

t?" Mrs. Paget asked, with a

mother's coat. "I was hungry and cold, and I didn't want to walk home in

uite satisfied with the explanation. Margaret kissed her again, watched her

ry about m

eed, Margaret reflected, going back to the much-

eft their mark on her face; the old beauty that had been hers was chiselled to a mere pure outline now; but there was a contagious serenity in Mr

d successfully to nightfall; if darkness found her husband reading in his big chair, the younger children sprawled safe and asleep in the shabby nursery, the older ones contented with books or games, the clothes sprinkled, the bread set, the kitchen dark and clean; Mrs. Paget asked no more of life. She would sit, her overflow

tle with the children," he was "the easiest man in the world to cook for." "Bless his heart, no woman ever had less to worry over in her husband!" she would say, looking from her kitchen window to the garden where he trained the pea-vines, with the children's yellow heads bobbing about him. She never analyzed his character, much less criticised him. Good and bad, he was taken for granted; she was much more lenient to him than

nd much fortified in body. The room was well aired, and a reinforced fire roared in the little stove. One of the children had brought her a spray of pine, and the spicy fragrance of it reminded her that Christmas and the Christmas va

reaming, which was instantly drowned in a chorus of frightened voices, and in the schoolroom below her own Margaret heard a thundering

The driver, his face alone visible between a great leather coat and visored leather cap, was talking unheard above the din. A tall woman, completely enveloped

ent that Margaret watched, Mrs. Porter, white and shaking, and another teacher, Ethel Elliot, an always excitable girl, who was now

ownstairs, and out to the gate. Mrs. Porter ca

Dorothy Scott!" she said. "They've kille

you!" screamed Miss Elliot. "Oh, and she

gladly recognized authority, Margaret pu

id angrily, shaking various shoulders as she went with such good effect that the

badly shaken, and was very white. "Do quiet them, can't you?" she said, with a sort of appre

to Margaret's unspeakable relief she twisted about and locked her arms tigh

think the car went over her! I assure you we were running ver

y to the assembled pupils of the Weston Grammar School, whom mere curiosity had somewhat quieted, "I want every one of you children to go back to your schoolrooms; do you understand? Dorothy's had a

d much relieved to have her share of the episode take

privileged by relationship dared, "will you go down the street, and ask old Doctor Potts to come here? And then go tell Dorothy's m

dore responded enthusiast

e sufferer at this point

s she started with her burden up the schoolhouse steps. "What were yo

afresh, "and it rolled and rolled. And I didn't see the automobi

d, laughing. "Mother won't know you at all w

laughed heartily. Margaret crossed the lines of children to the room where they played a

shed, and her head dropped languidly back against her chair, as became an interesting invalid. The Irish janitor was facetious as he replenished the fire,

d, reporting that the doctor would come as soon as he could and that Dorothy's mother was away at a card-party, but

ow tone, when she and Margaret were alone again wit

greed. "Mother says no child w

Margaret had leisure now to notice that by all signs this was a very great lady indeed. The quality of her furs, the glimpse of her gown that the loosened coa

ch a dread of the crowd, just public sentiment, you know. Some odious bystander calls the police, they crowd against your driver, perhaps a b

was led to talk a li

erized her. "I've two myself, two girls," she went on. "I wanted a boy, but they're nice girls. And you've si

e confidences and the unusual experience of sitt

me down to New York, and do somet

I don't know any one ther

he same speaker said reminiscently, "I taught school once for three

or four years,

of fascinating things a girl can do now!-be sure you come and see m

shed to Mrs. Carr-Boldt's

oldt!" she e

d the lady, not

sy, "why, nothing-only I never dreamed who

ork society woman-famed on two continents and from ocean to ocean for her jewels, her entertai

o New York now," s

d to be able to speak normally, with such a fast-beating an

. And Margaret decided in that instant that there never

Then came the doctor, to pronounce the entirely cheerful Dorothy unhurt, and to bestow upon her some hoarhound drops. Mrs. Carr-Boldt settled at once

gone, and Dorothy's "girl" appeared, she tipped that worthy and amazed Teuton, and after prom

id, as they stood waiting in the doorway. It was n

ate supper." Then, as the limousine appeared, Mrs. Carr-Boldt took both Margaret's hands in hers, and said, "And now good-bye, my dear girl. I've got your address, and I'm going to send you something pretty to remember me by. You saved me from I do

said, her cheeks bril

er long coat snugly about her. She locked the schoolroom door, and, turning the corner, plunged her hands into her pockets, and faced the wind bravely. Deepening darkness and coldness were about her, but she felt surrounded by the warmth

said, "the darling! I wonder

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