The west shore., January 01, 1886, Page 24, Image 22

24
THE WEST SHORE.
THE BLUE BANDIT.
1.
IT was a very long, dreary street in which Mm. Marimi
iliiko Wyvern rikI her two daughters resided. Of nil
ng'y I'n'lon Btrctta, in ll.oo bilout, auiui-anUjunilic
region where there are no shops but only rows nnd rows
of till tw-windowod houses, thin street was olio of the
very ugliest It consisted for the most part of dingy,
colorless houses, though here nnd there a HmHMi(Hlic at
tempt Imd Imwu Hindu by some enterprising persons to
emMlish their hIxhIi'h, or, perhnps it hIioiiIiI rather be
Niiid, to distinguish them iik much uh possible from ench
other. Mr. Wyvern' residence wna ono of the unob
trusive house. Mr. Wyvem wna n ludy in reduced cir
cumstances, nnd consequently sho put ofT the expense of
doing up her hmiitn a long mi possible, just iih sho post
erns! ninny other expensive pleasures. Economy was
Iter one thought, night nnd dny; jsior Mrs. Wyvem, there
were so few wnyit left untried in which she could econo.
iih'wi! Klin hnd married Homewhnt late in life, nnd when,
uftcr four year of happiness, her husband died suddenly,
he left lnr alone in the world, with her two little girls, n
Iindou house of tolerable size nnd a hnnd-to-hand light
with fortune Is-foro her, the greater part of his income
(Is'ing a Musion for military services) having ceased nt
his denth.
The widow tried hard to make some nddition to her
narrow means, but she hnd Wn brought up, like most
women, to do but little for herself. Hhe endeavored to
turn authoress, but slio hnd scant literary talent. It
caused her a week of intetiso labor and anxiety to indite
an article of feeble interest, for which a country journal
rewarded her with a few shillings. She then gave her
stteiition to embroidery, and worked a few elnWnte
cushion and tnhln oovera for a friend, receiving some
private remuneration, but by nnd by her eyesight grew
weak, and Is-snle then seemed few advantageous ohii
ings for the anle of Indies' work.
Kim might have aold her house and retired into n
country cottage, but ahe considered Indon the best
plnoo to live in, Im.11i for her own hnppiness nnd for her
children's education. Above nil, she clung to the house
lUnif ; dull and dreary as it might apsiir, it had been
her husUud'a. Therein, still unaltered, wns his morn,
ing-rootu, full of his owu old-fashioned things, as his
lcr hand had plmvd them - the table nt which he sat
the chair iu which ho loved to rend. Mrs. Wyvoru came
w um ciiiciuhkiii mm, i,y unit or scrupulous economy,
aim might continue to live iu her house and nresent ,',
Urn outer world the same apxarnuco ns liefore. That is
the chier thing, alter all, for which we each of us ph.u
and struggle - the apiernnco wo present to the worhl.
The two little girls, partly from the fact thnt the dif-
fereiiMI nf lularHn tlmM..)... ... I ii . ..
" uieir mouicr wns
greaUr than U often the case, jmrtly because that mother
iiv.m so wucu mentally in a wt that wa everything to
ler, yet meant nothing to them, relied ,, Rm,l1(r
tor in,niouuip.aml haj grown into girlhood iwHsion
uuly atUohod tu each other.
Amolia was strong, Grace wna clinging. Amelia wna
tall nnd straight nnd beautiful, Grace was delicate and
weukly; indeed, a cripple. At five yeara old she had met
with an accident that injured her for life. Ever after
Hint accident she lay on her back, poor little Grncie, and
from her lowly and recumbent position ahe viewed life
through a lovely spiritual lona of her very own making.
Thore wna no envy, no malice, no uncharitableneaa in her
heart; the few figures that moved and had their2being in
her narrow world wore all beautiful and all good, to her
thinking; ahe alono waB not sufficiently good. But ahe
meant to try to be. She did not etruggle much for this
end, however; ahe loved peacefully, and was loved in
return. There wna no uneaaineaa about her nature;
being herself the incarnation of tondorneas and trust,
she confidently took for granted the kindness of every
one else.
Hhe wns, boaidea, a delightful companion, full of fun
and gentle teasing; a very Philistine, aaid her aiater, but
that was because, when Amolin was smitten with hor first
cra.o of H'stheticism, Gracio flatly refused to have her
dressing gown nnd bed quilt trimmed with drub nnd sage
green instead of the old familiar pink or sky-blue thnt
her childish soul had nlwnya loved.
"Why, whnt would hnppen to poor mnmma if we
Mli of us became artists, Amy?" naked Grnce.
"You don't disnpprove of my following art as n
career, aurely, Grncie, do you?" entreated Amolin, who
wns ono of those enrnost nnd aoriona-minded people who
ride their hobbies at all times, both in and out of aeaaon.
" If you have thought out any theory about the mat
ter, dear, pray tell me," she added.
"Hut I have thought out nothing," replied Grace,
laughing, "nnd 1 never have theories about anything at
all. Don't you know me woll enough to know that?"
" It is a very responsible thing to be an artist," aaid
Amolin gravely; "one owes a kind of duty to the groat
and beautiful in everything."
"Perhaps," said Grace.
" I feel," continued Amelia" I feel aa though I had
dedicated myself to somo unknown deity, put on a robe,
registered a vow, bound myself for life, in fact"
"To your profession?"
"Yes, to my profession; you understand, don't you,
Grncie?" '
" I think so, dear."
" It seems a solemn thing, a privilege to bo nlmost
frightened of, to belong to the same profession as Raphael
and Titinn-n far-off, humble disciple as I am, but still
one of the same band. Do you see, Gracie?"
" I see. You nro a darling, Amy."
Graco stretch! out her thin little hand, on which the
blue tenia made a clear trncery, and took Amelia's firm,
ruddy fingers within liers.
" I nm so glad you are strong, Amy!"
"Strength is necessary for a wotnnn who seeks to
make her way m any career," said Amelia, with decision.
And you kuow, dear, I want to work, both for mother
and fur yoo. Only think of all the pretty things I shall