HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Times, 1909-06-10, Page 6An Ullexpeeted Confession;
Or, The Story of bliss Percival's Early Life.
CHA1"rER VI1I.--(Cont'd)
But the next instant her anger
blazed forth.
"What do you mean 7" she sharp-
ly demanded. "Do you refuse to
obey rue?"
"1 do not refuse, and never have
refused, to obey any reasonable
command; but I will not be ticket-
ed as a nursemaid wherever I go,"
Esther observed, with slow positive-
ness.
"But that is what you are—you
are only a servant!" hotly retort-
ed the enraged matron.
"I know that is what you have
made mo, ever since I came here,"
Esther calmly responded.
"Pray, what else should I have
done 1" sneered her companion, ut-
terly ignoring the fact that almost
the last instructions her husband
had given her had been that his
adopted sister's child should share
equally, in all respects, with bis
own children. "Did you expect to
be made a lady of, and spend your
time in idleness?" she concluded,
ironically.
"No, I never like to be idle. I
am willing to work, and be useful
to you," Esther answered. "I do
not even object to acting the part
of nurse to Daisy, for I love the
child, and am glad to care for her,
to the best of my ability. But I
shall not go about the streets wear-
ing a glaring cap and apron. 1
prefer to wear a hat, when I go
out, like other people."
"Well, I must say that for impu-
dence and independence, this ex-
ceeds anything I ever heard of.
exclaimed Mrs. Cushman, in a tow-
ering passion. "Do you imagine,
for a moment, that I am going to
tolerate such a state of things from
a beggar like you?"
Esther lifted a look of astonish-
ment to the woman, at this outburst
of vulgarity from one who usually
assumed a superiority of culture
and refinement over ordinary mor-
tals.
Then a dangerous gleans came in-
to her own eyes.
"You make a mistake, Mrs. Cush-
man, in applying such an obnoxi-
ous epithet to me. I am not a beg-
gar," she said, in a constrained
tone, as if she were striving to hold
her temper well in hand.
"Then I should like to know
what you aro? You are utterly de-
pendent upon my bounty ; you aro
indebted to nue fur the roof that
shelters you—for every morsel of
food that you eat," snapped the
irate dame.
At this Esther arose from her
chair, and stood tall and straight
before her companion, and she was
now startlingly pale.
"There is where you are mistak-
en again," she returned, with omin-
ous calmness; "1 am not depend-
ent upon your bounty—I am not in-
debted to you for anything. I have
served you faithfully ever since I
carne here, and have received in
return simply my board. I have
had no wages—no time to myself.
Yon paid Ellen Mason four dollars
a week to do less work than I have
been doing, and gave her one after-
noon out every week. Madam, if
you are going to talk of obligation
and indebtedness, the burden reats
upon yon, rather than upon me,
and you owe me exactly twenty dol-
lars, up to last Tuesday, for five
weeks that I have served you. If
1 ani supposed to occupy the posi-
tion of a servant in your house, I
am at least entitled to a servant's
wage "
Mrs. Cushman was considerably
staggered in view of these pointed
and logical arguments. But sho
quickly rallied.
"There can be no question of
wages between you and me," she
haughtily observed. "I am your
guardian, and, until you are of
age. it is your duty to obey toe."
"Yes, as long as I remain with
you, Mrs. Cushman, 1 will obey
every reasonabia regi irement,"
Esther answered, 1a a gentle, re-
spectful tone, hut with a slightly
suggestive emphasis upon •the ad-
jective.
'•\\'ho is to be the judge of what
is reasonable 1" sharply inquired
the matron. "1 ask you to wear
the cap and apron of a nurse. while
you act in that capacity for Daisy.
1 t-ry raise, employed in families
of our standing, is required to con-
form to the custom. and she is ex-
peeted to do so cheerfully."
Esther thought a fro:tient before
replying; then she said :
"If a girl should apply to you for
• situation as a nurse, and you in-
sisted upon this point, as your
r; ►,•. beenuse yon expected to pay
her wages for so doing. it would
be optiot •1 with her whether she
tc put upon roc, regardless of the
fact that I have certain individual
rights. You dismsissed a girl to
'curtail your expenses,' and arbi-
trarily laid upon me her duties,
raying mo nothing, and allowing me
no time to myself. My mother and
your husband were reared in the
same home; the same woman gave
them counsel; therefore, I have
been as well-bred, except, perhaps,
in certain fashionable convention-
alities, as your own children; and
so, being sensitive about becoming
a target for every one wherever 1
go, I claim the right to refuse to
wear a nurse's cap and apron."
"Girl, your insolence is unbear-
able 1" exclaimed Mrs. Cushman,
in a towering rage. "The ideaof
putting yourself upon a level with
my children! Do you realize that
I have the power to send you home-
less into the streets?"
"Yes," said Esther, briefly.
"Then you'd better cornu down
from your stilts, and be obedient to
me."
"I think, Mrs. Cushman, it might
be best for all concerned that I go
away," Esther reflectively observ-
ed.
"Where would you go, pray? Who
do you imagine would take a green
girl like you, without a recommen-
dation?" was the sneering rejoin-
der.
"I do not know; but I am very
surd there must be plenty of places
for an honest, willing girl; while,
as for a recommendation, I believe
1 need only apply to either Mr.
Lancaster or Miss Percival in order
to secure all that I could desire in
that lino. I certainly shall make
the trial, if I am to have no indi-
vidual rights and priviligea here,"
Esther firmly concluded.
Mrs. Cushman now began to rea-
lize that she a more resolute char-
acter to dual with than she had an-
!(icipated, and the girl's last as-
sertion was like a dash of cold water
in her face.
She had no wish to lose her, for
she was valuable help—far more
faithful and trustworthy than any
servant she had ever had. She
could better bear the blow to icer
pride by conceding the disputed
point regarding the cap and apron,
than to part with her services.
"You are exceedingly obstinate,"
she remarked, as she arose to leave
the room; "but since you were my
husband's ward, and he left you
in my care, it becomes nio to look
after you until you arrive at a suit-
able age and have judgment to care
for yourself ; and so, if you won't
oblige me by wearing the cap and
apron, I suppose I shall bo corn-
pelled to bear with your stubborn-
ness."
lined that a human being was about
to commit suicide.
--
CHAPTER IX.
A thrill of horror went quivering
through every nerve in Esther's
body as she comprehended the
luaus suicidal iuto,.tion.
'!error prompted her to turn and
Contrast in the Way It Is Done In
II) from the sight and sound of
such a decd; but the next instant Burmah and In Modern
she had bounded to his side, and Lugiand.
struck his hand down, without a
thought of the danger into w hick
.Moung Thway, the honorable
she was plunging. timber merchant of Rangoon, had
"Don't! oh, don't!" she panted, u pain in his stomach and stayed
it tremulous, appealing tones, as in bed. His wife, Mali Nuo, being
the weapon fell, with u sharp ring, equally doting and nervous, decid-
ed to send for the famous physici-
hururlessly to the per emont.
The man turned fiercely upon an, Sayah lipo Khiu.
her, an impatient groan burstiug The Burnie -se Hippocrates was
from him at thus being balked in seated outside his bamboo hut. To
his purpose, and she saw, by the !din came a naked but perfectly -
light that shone through the win- mannered youngster with the mes-
dows of the house he had just left sage:
that he WAS comparatively a young • "My master, Mong Thway, com-
inan—ho might have been a little plains of sickness in his inside, and
upward of thirty. Frays the honorable and learned
"Who are you?" he demanded, to Sayah to comp to his house!"
an irritable tone. SIGNS OF SUCCESS.
"It does not matter who I am,"
Esther responded, in accents of
solemn reproof ; "be thankful that
1 reached your side in season to
prevent you from committing an
unpardonable sin."
Her companion gave vent to a
laugh of exceeding bitterness.
"You have only delayed the
deed," be said, in a desperate
tone; "I was simply going to rid
the world of a useless clog of a
wretch who is only a burden to
himself and all who know hint. I
have just lost the last dollar I pos-
sessed," he went on, ramblingly.
"I have not even a penny with
which to buy me a crust—I am an
alien and an outcast, and it is bet-
ter that I should die--"
"No, no!" Esther excitedly inter-
posed, her heart strangely stirred
with sympathy for one so forlorn.
too, am without a home aid
friends ; 1, too, sometimes feel that
life is a burden, young as I am,
but. oh 1 if I were a thousand times
more lonely and wretched I could
not stain my soul with self -mur-
der 1 Oh, promise me, sir, that you
will never again attempt to twee
your life."
"Why should I make you such a
promise?" her companion question-
ed. while ho leaned forward, trying
to see her face, which, however,
she kept averted from him. "What
right have you to demand such a
pledge from me?"
"Tho right of a girl, who, even
though the world holds nothing to
tempt her, would not see a roan a
greater coward than herself," she
cried, a note of scorn ringing
through her tones.
He started, as if the words had
stung Trim like a lash. and mutter-
ed an oath under his breath.
"Go home," Esther continued, in
a gentler tone; "rest and sleep;
and to -morrow try to realize what
you have escaped, and here is a
trifle to tide over the pressure of
the moment."
She had opened her purse while
she was speaking, and now thrust
a crisp new bill into the limp hand
that hung nearest her. Then, with-
out giving hire an opportunity to
reject her offering, she bounded
away, and was soon lost to view
in the gloom.
Hastening with all possible speed
to the avenue, she boarded the
hist car that came along, and sank.
weak and trembling, into the near-
est vacant place, hoping and pray-
ing that her timely interefernce had
so brought the unhappy stranger
to his senses that he would never
attempt to repeat the desperate act
of that night.
But she told no one of her thril-
ling adventure; she folt it to be
tho sacred secret of the man whom
she had saved, and she would so
regard it as long as she lived.
Tho following morning she went
again to Dr. Weld, to have her
teeth attended to. before going
away for the summer.
The dentist professed 1.imself
very much pleased with the suc-
cess of his experiment so far, and
assured her that he would even-
tual's,.lave her teeth as oven as a
set of false ones could be made.
He also told her that he would
be at Lake George during the month
et July, when he would give them
further attention, and he hoped
that, by October, ho would be able
t., remove the metal clamps, and
release her from further discom-
fort.
"I wonder if you realize how
much you aro already improved,"
he observed, as she rose from the
chair. "You look like a different
person now that your upper lip is
no longer projected by those un-
sightly teeth, and. in time. when
we get everything into line, I'll
a car for home. %aper you'll never want to cover
Suddenly a man dashed out of a your mouth when you laugh.'
house which she was passing. slam. Esther flushed at this allusion to
ming the door violently after him, the habit she had acquired of put -
bounded down the steps, and but ting her hand to her mouth every
for the fact that she sprang nimbly tune she smiled, and, greatly en -
aside, would have knocked thegirl ceurnged by 1)r. Weld's bright an -
down. ticipations, she went hone with a
And yet he did not appear to have lighter heart than she had known
sten her at all, but ataggered up for months.
against the building, a green of al- (To be continued.)
!neat mortal agony escaping him.
Esther paused. and glanced hack
would conform to your wishes. "r at the sound, although her first im-
go elsewhere,. if she dal net like pulse had been to run for her life.
to be conspicuous wherc‘or she The next instant she saw hiin
went. Rut you have givers Le no snatch souiething front his pocket•
ehoiee in the matter ; vnu havr as- and raise his hand to his bead.
Funned, ever since 1 :