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Show to -nave tne law of her." tin I never I knew of hercarrying out her threat, and, i shortly after, wo heard that Mr. Thomas Tripp was connected with a livery stable I and saw his name and that of Lotty Lavender in the column of marriage j notices. : After that Eliza, as tidy as ever, but ! much more grim and exacting, continued to cook for us. The coat-liman, John ttnngs, was a ' plain, elderly man whoso wife did tho i waiting. In the evening she sat with Kliza, and in 1 heir conversation betrayed serious doubts that one good woman could lie found in any other kitchen of tho United Slates virtue being condensed con-densed in hours. Upstairs girls were generally spoken of as "them crazy things." Evidently Ann Bangs had had her own experiences in her early days, when John was younger and presumably liaudmimer. All this happened whim I was a very small child. It, was after I had been married two or three years that mamma came to visit mo at my little country place, and shortly began to talk about Eliza ISoernni. 'It i.-i the most singular thin;;," she ! said. ''Old lis she is sbo has never gotten over her lovo afi'air. I believe she cares for Thomas Tripp yet. She must have heard some news of him lately. She is : v-ry sentimental in these latter uys, and told me that sometimes the kitchen ; seemed 'haunted' with Mr. Tripp's ' ghost, t presume. Perhaps she has too much work to do in our largo family, i and I should like to aend her to you for ' a change. She is delighted with the idea." j "So am I," said I: and the thing was j settled. . ! Very soon she cnnie to mo. She had altered very little. Though now an undeniably elderly woman, her I hair remained as black as ever, the pol-! pol-! ish on her cheek bones was as high and J tho frills as perfectly plaited, j She was a wonderful comfort to me, j and by way of reaping the benefit of country air she took a regular walk ! every day after diuuer, carefully guarding guard-ing her skirts from the dust, (.hie day sho returned in a somewhat pensive mood. "That king kind of building without ! no trees near it, what would you call it, j ma'am'r" she asked. "That one where I there's so many old people sittin' out to i air themselves mostly." "Oh, that's the poorhouse, Eliza," I ! said. "1 thought as much," 6aid she, "Well, wo had all ought to be thankful we're not in it," she sighed, and went her way. Eliza bad savings and had fallen into a very good legacy from an uncle she could have no fears of coming to waut. Hut it was evident that the poorhouse people had touched a soft spot in hor old heart. One day she came to me with a curious curi-ous look on ber face. ' "M:iv I take a libertv. ma'am?' she "And who is the happy man, Eliza?" 1 I asked. "Well, now he is happy, ma'am," Eliza responded with a chuckle. "To see him sit and eat plain cake is a sight for sore eyes." "Is itthe the old gentleman from the" I faltered. "Don't be delicate in mentioning it, ma'am," said Eliza. "The poorhouse yes'm. Misfortunes is not faults, and upu and downs may happen to everybody. every-body. Thomas and me is going to jine bands and hearts amonth from Wednesday, Wednes-day, which is as soon as the tailor and dressmaker can be depended on. Perhaps, Per-haps, mum, being so young at the time, you don't recognize Thoma Tripp, your pa's late coachman, but ho it is, once young and flourishing and in prosperity, now aged and misfurtunate, but tho same in intillects and fascinations." "Is it possible, Eliza!" cried I. "This : old gentleman from the poorhouse, : Thomas Tripp?" j "Yes'm," said Eliza, "I don't deny ' ho had writ. I knowed ho wus there when 1 came up, and my feelings at first : was fearful, but soon I saw that he was ' capable of fixiu' mi, and I began to j do if." j "I've noticed theirrprovement," I said. I "It's i;rent,"said Eliza, "and he is that ! penitent'. Lotty Lavender turned out as ! I knowed site would. Livery stable work ain't like private families. Lotty didn't get all sbo wanted, and her temper drove Thomas to drink. Then one day a horse run away with him and he was in hospital hos-pital quite u sped, and when ho corns out his looks was spiled and his strength gone, ami he couldn't get work, and Lotty she wont back on him and run away with a man that had been hanging around her; then Thomas drank worse, of course. Lotty is dead now and better off, for she went to the bad altogether," said Eliza, "and you know what happened hap-pened to Thomas; but I'm fixin' him up gradual, and we're thinking of a little shop. Thomas ain't so handsome as he was, of course, but he has improved in I morals and intillects, and he has made it plain to me that he was tempted, and all along his true love was for me alone." "To err is human, to forgive divine, Eliza," I said. "That's Is-autiful," said Eliza; '"I'm very fond of hymns myself, and thank ye, ma'am, for your good advice." I was not aware of having offered, any, bnt I did not deny the charge. Later 1 gavo Eliza a set of china.- My mother sent her some silver spoons, other wedding wed-ding presentsarrived, and on the Wednesday Wednes-day apiKiinted Eliza removed Thomas Tripp from tho poorhouse to the church and married him. At the altar ho was a marvelous specimen speci-men of gentility, in a black suit and white necktie, and he has remained so ever since. Tho little shop prospers. The neighbors pronounce Mr. and Mrs. Tripp tho happiest couple they know, and on the whole Eliza's love affair has turned out happily, after all. Mary Kyle Dallas in Fireside Companion. ELIZA'S LOVE AFFAIR. Eliza Roerutn bad lived in our family for many years when I first remember her. She was tall and straight, with the flattest back I ever .saw, and large, Well developed limbs. 1 do not suppose that any one had Tor thought her pretty, but she was as tidy as a waiting maid in a comedy, and tho (luting and plaiting that she wore Upon her papain! apron were miraculous. As for her face, it shone with nun h washing, wash-ing, having polished spots on the cheekbones cheek-bones mi l chin, the curve eMier high Soso and the two prominent, points of her forehead. '"t a b.or escaped from the smooth, dark, tight braid at the back of her head, nothing about her was ever ut of order. 1 fancy she was nearer If) than .10 at this time, but I know that Thomas Tripp, the coachman, was 40, for ho said so. "Forty, and I'll be going on for an old bachelor before long," he said. "I've got to look out and marry soon, haven't 1, Missus Cook''" "Marriage, Mr. Thomas," said Eliza over her shoulder ho was busy with n pudding "is a matter I haven't taken much thought of, being a spitiKtn-ss myself." my-self." "Not by no mems, Missus Cook," said Thomas--"not by no means. A line figure fig-ure of a woman, with opportunities to change her condition, has no call to mention men-tion herself by that name." "Old maids is honorable," said Eliza. "Ay. and 1'vo heard them say that old bachelors was abominable, by way of making a rhyme to it," said Thomas Tripp. "I'm goin' to marry. How about your" "I'll wait until somebody offers, and then think it over," said Eliza. I was sitting on tho window sill eating eat-ing a cake, and I remember that I could see no reason why F.liza should stop her work and chase Thomas out of the kitchen with a dish towel at that mo-c.t'Ut, mo-c.t'Ut, but ho seemed to like it. After that 1 used to find him there V"ry often. They wore ulways sitting on chairs at a great distance apart looking look-ing silly when 1 camo in, and Eliza always al-ways thought that it would be better for my health to "go and cut my nice cuko in the garden, because the kitchen was so warm.'' .Shortly it was known that Eliza Boer-nm Boer-nm and Thomas Tripp were engaged to lie married, and would stay on in the family in their several capacities. We were quite excited aliout the wedding, wed-ding, and the room above the coach house was furnished with comparative splendor. . ... It was just at this time that Seh'na, our somewhat venerable waitress, retired re-tired on her savings, and it was necessary neces-sary to get. a new girl in her place. It was Eliza who begged my mother to take Lotty Lavender. "Yon see,'' said Eliza, "it will be such wonderful thing for the girl to get into a good family. Sha's been let to run about from one place to another, and slie ret or has a dollar left to put away. JJeiug with young, giddy folks she follows fol-lows them, but with settled people like mo and .Mr. Thomas she'll have no temptation, temp-tation, iier mother is a friend of my own, and she says only yesterday: " 'Oil. Liza, if she can have your good example 1 shall be truly thankful.' " And so Lotty canto to us. A pretty, peach cheeked, blue eyed creature with a belt not half a yard long, and a coquettish coquet-tish manner that made her very attractive attract-ive to my young eyes. In tho "kitchen at first it was quite charming to see Lotty taking the advice of those older and wiser than she, and going to church with Thomas and Elii on Sunday evening: but alasl this is a j changeful world. ' Young at; I was I soon saw that I Thomas stared long and often at the new j waitrchs and was loss devotedly ntten- tive to his Kliza. I Mind Eliza alono in i the kitchen in a very low spirited mood, ! while Lolly was, I knew, talking a walk I with Thoma. And one clay at dessert a J strange thing happened. j Lotty was j nit bringing in a dish of fruit, walking vviili unusual airiness i and looking prettier than ever, when a I how! wa heard upon the stairs, aud 1 saw Thomas rushing stabk-ward with ! said. "I waut to make a plain cake for one of them old folks that hasn't tasted liono for years may If" "Of course you may, Eliza," I said. "Law mo!'' said Eliza. "How Mr. Thomas Tripp used to Bit and eat my plain cake Sunday tealime! Said 'twas better than other folks' pound cake, all! but you can't remember Thomas Tripp?" "Oh, indeed I do," said 1. "All," said Eliza, "he was a fine man If he hadn't been thrown under evil influences." in-fluences." And that afternoon she carried car-ried her plain cake with her when she went upon her walk. A week later, as I was in the garden picking a bouquet, the dog that followed at my heels began to growl, and some tine uttered a s-nall squeal of terror. Looking up I saw a forlorn old man i with a straggling white beard and very I miserable blue eyes sheltering himself : in the porch of a little house where ! tools, ladders, flower pots and other , things of the sort were stored. j "She said I could call," he said, j ' "Missus Eliza did. Kin I go round to j ' the kitchen, if it ain't presuming? She j said 1 could." ; "Eliza? Oil, yes," I answered, "you'll ; find her there." And I guessed that -this : was one of her proteges from the poor- i house. They had a way of dressing the ; unfortunate inmates of their institution! j which once seen could not be forgotten. -f ! This particular figure was, however, ; unusually forlorn and pathetic. I'rnli- j slily that was tho reason why Eliza had Ejected hiin as the object of her bounty, j He came regularly after that, each j Wednesday and Saturday afternoon. ! Cold food was rehashed for him in tempt- j lug style. Yesterday's paper was bestow- j ?d upon him to read, and the day after j Eliza received her next wages he became possessed of a new hat and some linen. ; I doubt, if tho poorhouse authorities be-, stowed these luxuries, arid I used to see the latter hanging to dry in a secret spot , lw.lit.,1 tVio lindrrrt miw -mil then. his handkerchief to his eye, and at the frame instant Kliz.i appeared behind Lotty wil.li her fingers el ended like talons. I In a moment more the girl's cap was j off, her embroidered ;immu h; tatters, i the fruit Uish on the jrround. th peaches and pears rollimt about the floor, and j Eliza disapjHmred down the kitchen stairs, ! d.vahii,' I.'itty by ber iotifj. bark hair, j The minister and his wife were dining ! with us. The situation was flux-king. : "Is the girl out of her imnd'r" asked i my fali iev. , "Temporarily," replied mamma, I Then tuu mini iter's wife be;;an to ted a story of a certain cook who went on, of her mind and murdered the whole family, and I was very much alarmed for my own safety and that of the kitten. Later, when we were alone, Eliza are ; pea red before my mother, neat as usual, but with swollen eyes. "I suppose after the exhibition I have made of rnysilf, ma'am, I had better look for another place? It's pat excuses, I know." "It wa:i very shocking, Eliza!" satd my mother, "but I prefer that Lotty should go. I have told her r-o." "Ma'am," said Eliza, "you are an angel an-gel of forgiveness, and have a feelin' heart that is not given to most Indies, ' but there is circumstances that ' that" "I comprehend," said my mother. "I have spoken to your master, and Thomas Tripp is dismissed. I feel sure that he drinks, and that is always dangerous in H coachman." At this Kliza burst into tears, sobbed: , "A a angel lady! and I'll never forgit it!" and retired. Meanwhile I had visited Lolry in her ! bedroom, where she was packing her trunk. Shi; had several long scratches ; on her cheeks aud tome of her hair had j been pulled out. S.iio spoke of Kliza as "that spitfire old maid," and threatened Eliza seldom spoke of her protege, and then alluded to him as "that there un-fortinite." un-fortinite." But he came regularly, and was gradually spruced up to a degree I should not have believed possible. Moreover, Eliza lost her grimness and was more amiable lhan she bad been for years. She frequently remarked that "we had ought to make allowances fot everybody," and that "no one knowed how he'd act under temptation." She had evidently taken to charitable views of humanity in her old age, and her pensioner occupied her time pleasantly. pleasant-ly. But one Sunday evening I was sur-Dri-ef In- bearing a murmur of voices Ix-hnd the hedge, at the same time doubling do-ubling the odi- of a pipe, and peeping through saw Eiiza our proper and particular par-ticular Eliza in her best dress, her pockethandkerchief primly held in her folded bands, sitting calm and smiling, with the arm of the old gentleman from the poorhouse around her waist. He for his part sported a blue tie and a yellow yel-low linen suit, and had in the button-: button-: hole of his stiffly ironed coat a red ge-; ge-; raninm. I retired astonished, and I fancy Eliza suspected my presence, for she came to me next day in a clean apron with an evident purpose in her mind. She opened the subject in these words: "For a plain person, on. in years, ma'am, would you say if you was asked that a genteel pale brown was a suitable wedding dress, with say a bonnet to match, and lace neck plaitings'r" "Decidedly," I said. "Then I think I'll git that, ma'am," she said. "I intend to change my condition." con-dition." "For the better, I hope, Eliza," I said. "For the better, as fur as worldly prospects goes, no, ma'am, but as fur as heart's affection counts, yes, I be," said Eliza. "Persons of matoor years knows their own minds, l ye thought it over, I'm fiaed iu mine." ,7 , |