The Oregon daily journal., December 20, 1908, Page 40, Image 40

THE .OREGON SUNDAY , JOURNAL, PORTLAND, - SUNDAY MORNING, : DECESIBER- 20,. 1908
t-f i t i V A var:: O
B 1 If I '
T WAS two weeks ta
Christmas. Mrs. Fairlie.
red-cheeked in the glow
of the frosty air and the
warmth of her brown
furs, was returning
home after taking her
packages to the express
office; there was one
package less than usual,
on account of the invita
tion which' she hoped to
, send Instead. She had
determined to be well ahead of th shnl c$f.aJg
sae had a pang ot memory whenever - she- recalled
the last Ciirlstmas and the expressman who had
brought a gift-box to her house . after 4 o clocK
4n tne day itself. Heretofore she had Jhad a.
rather pleased feeling that people who brought things
to the oouse liked tuo glimpse of the merrymakings
within; Mrs. Fairlie always wished the men a Merry
Christmas, and gave a fee in addition to any that
might ibe collected. , , , ,j
llut the man: who had brought her Susies belated
gift couldn't be put into any easily made category
of holiday benefaction his burning eyes, his sullen
mouth, the tense repression that showed in every
motion of his vigorous young frame, seemed to voice
a deep and embittering injury against all who en
joyed themselves at the expense of others her one
glance outside at the still piled-up express wagon
had driven the stab home to ner own heart. She had
painstakingly now started In purchasing for every
Dody at a distance before beginning at all upon the
home people; it should not be upon ner head mat she
had helped to make an unhappy Christmas for any
one, she wanted everybody to be. happy then; it was
her simple faith that the occasion demanded It. Mrs.
Fairlie herself loved Christmas, though, as a rule,
she kept quiet when other people expatiated on their
difficulties and distresses; to profess her own enjoy
ment made a discordant note It was as if she thougnt
fcerself on a different plane. The portioning out of
moneys, the making of lists, the endless discussion
as to what this person wanted or what that one
wanted were to her only delightful preliminaries
which made the season lengthily festive. Yet her de
sire to have every one happy sometimes led to com
plications, one of which, she felt as she went home
ward, was waiting for her now. Since Minnie's letter
Of the morning and her own resolution
It was a pleasure to have both her daughters run
to meet her as she entered the bouse they had been
away for a week-end; a pleasure to have them escort
her upstairs between them, and take off her furs
and hat and coat and establish her In a comfortable
chair, as they poured out the recital of the happenings
of their visit. They were pretty girls, the executive
Katherine dark, like her father, with, however, deeply
arehed eyebrows, and a red mouth that drooped at
the corners; while Jean was light and round-faced
and rosy, as her mother was still. Jean, It appeared,
had had the "banner" time on this occasion, the most
beautiful young man of the house-party almost Haunt
ing himself her captive. Katherine furnished the
sTrspUtc description, while Jean modestly demurred.
VUid you want to stay longer?" the mother found
herself asking, to receive Katherine's emphatic:
fNo; ah no! Not when it was growing so near
Christmas. Did Aunt Mary's check come?"
"Yes."
Thank goodness! I was so afraid It wouldn't, this
Aunt Mary's .check, embodying a pleasing fiction
that it was to buy a Christmas gift for Mrs. Falrlie s
ownuse, was always thoughtfully sent well before
the time, so that she might have the comfort of it In
Iter Christmas expenditure for others. Into how many
obscure channels of charity It flowed was never di
vulged, nor how many an extra dollar It added to
presents for the loved ones of the household as well
as for the outlying stranger. Mrs. Fairlie had Indeed
her allotted portion of Christmas giving, as well as
Her regular allowance for the household; but there
v . mhuu in win ukth iiiMF n.inr, t iio I .... i
wrhen .it seemed as If a spouting geyser of "change"
' . , - - ........ . . v. .c.UTftl
2, ;.T,i, enouSh to supply the demand for all the
"last" things.
Her mood leaped ahead now to that day of
fcwl8Blh1ie Clear Klft of Aunt Mary's check, which.
?T!.VSe. wa? 8cr?tly destining to other uses
?,rced only by Katherine's words:
Mother, you're not listening at all: Jean and I
"."e made up our minds to take possession of that
check this year-it Is not to go for us or for anybody
you ro-tojset: something with It that you really want
yourself.,,- fou are to buy the big Turkish rug for
the dining room; you've been moanir.g- over the old
one long enough, and It is a disgrace. Now wait'
Jean And I are each going to contribute the ten
dollar goldr. piece that grandmamma always senas
us, and 1 father , will help out, too, if It's necessary
K.T VL 'you.csn get the kind vou wan 1.!
thing, that will last us all our days, if we wauTfu
after .Christmas to shop for it. And then 1 won't
be ashamed,-to ask the Fentons to dlnner-iuch a
lovely Mm! as -we had there! What's the matter
mother? ; We thought you'd be so pleased " '
"YeSv. yes, s. I am pleased," assented th mn,.. '
hastily, At any other -time the thought ot the ru
and their co-operation would have been Intoxicating
the need' of it had . been deeply mooted aei? a!,i
gain. Mrs.. Fairlie ' had tentsTtl-Irely ? rlquented oh
ental auctions, ahe had studied up the different weave,
in books of information with colored plates tie At
tainment of the rug was something always of inttr
st to look forward to. She was Incapable of buyine
anything IntHnsically cheap for her household.' shf
could go -without, but what she purchased mnit w
"good"rthe tone in which she Bald the word rpreSsd
volumes. As;Sh looked at her children's face, nf
she felt more than ever a traitor. e now
"Yes. yes. I turn delighted! But th, i.
I rnust speak to. you about first. I had is letter from
your cuusih minnie uin morning.
ornlngr." She hurried' ahead
in f l,r:: ':cousin n?i;
in that new town. Rh ..
alter a. moment s expressive
w w, vci jr lunei; m Inat new town. She hii
a position In some institution, I believe, and she"!
among entire strangers. Her boy ig working his wU
through colleg. this year; It's the first tlnfe they've
ever been separated, but 'It costs too much to hnvf
him t ome on, she says." ucn t0 hav
"Mother, you're not 'going to ask her hem .
rhrlstmas? .Well, 1 knew something was the m.t.r,
th instant I saw-you!" Jean' tone wa. polgan lv
expostulating. "To think ift having that a?JttV,?,
woman here all through the holidays-! She wri..i
the most depressing letters I ever heard. 1 Vt, ,
liavo them come Into the house; they always um
u! SShe either tells you how she misses that Zi 2
f a boy, or about all the illnesses of peonii, f
dun t know. To ask her here over the holidays hH
there were so inany people we wanted to hare -
Oh. Jean dear," Mm, Fairlie looked fronvona t
the other of her daughters with avpieading whirl?
not deceive; tlmy knew, Jf she did not, that ihi
1 a.l Inexorably made up her-mind.. "You cannot i!
wnys Ju.lge a preon by letters; I had an an admirer
in. tr who wrote most beautifully, sixteen pages at a
.ni.. and et when any one talked to him he seemed
ou know ths?t I won't ask Vnr ' c
don't want her ho?? At ,!k J.0."
isih .Miisnte if you d
l ues moistened; they were very younr evei i
'
1 1 1 Him nr
all her forty-odd years; her senslt ve mouth tremj
bled "when I think of any one being left out and
lonely at Christmas-It must be so dreadful to be
without your child-and I have a" J5'"!
and when we really have room on'tnow
"But you've never even seen ,her; you don t anow
Wh?'NohbutUIkought to have seen her herine be
fore this. Ever since your cousin Arthur
the only relative your father had in . the urbiect.
Mrs. Fairlie was embarked on a .t' to
"I'm sure I've never forgotten how lovely - he was to
us when we were on our wedding trip, and h n
hardly more than a boy lilmself-hirlng a carriage ana
taking us around Niagara Falls (d car r lag e r
an oxnenslve there, he must have spent a wfeJ.,f
salary) and 6 giving me that bouquet ot pheasant-eye
pinks at the train " 2ri it
"Mother always speaks of her wedding trip as it
it happened yesterday," interrupted Katherine, im
Per''And"ever since your cousin Arthur's death Min
nie has taken care of herself and e boy;. of course
your father has sent money when he J'ould. Wt iM
has never asked for a thing. And now, wl hej rshe is
living so much nearer to us. and without her child
Mrs. Falrlle's voice broke. .
"Oh, well, mother, don't feel like that about it!
Have her If you want to." Katherine sjvoice was
affectionately resigned. "Only"-how Mrs. Fairlie
dreaded that "only"!-"Jean and I had wanted to ask
Mr. Llter here. Mrs. Fenton said she hoped wed bo
nice to him; she knew his mother) aid now, of course,
we can't do anything, with the house all filled up, and
Jack's chum coming home with him, too! But really
we don't mind only"-nother only! "you. give me
that check! You're not to spend It sending for Cousin
Minnie's boy, if that's what you're planning to do.
You are going to have that rug." ' "
"Maybe she won't accept, ' suggested Jean, hope
fully, to be met by Katherine's ruthless, "That kind
always accept." (
Events Justified her prophecy. Cousin Minnie ac
cepted, indeed, but whetuer with joy or reluctance it
were hard to tell. -,
"Your letter arrived last evening," she wrote, "and
I would-have answered It at once, but I was asked to
watch by the bedside of a lady who is suffering with
nerve trouble; I fear she will never recover from It.
"It is very kind of you to ask me to spend, the
holidays with you. I will leave here on the eighteenth,
although I am afraid that I will be sadly out of place
in your gay household; I have had no . new clothes
for several years. It seems Impossible that I shall
not see my dear Evan at Christmas; he says that he
is well, but I often fear that he is keeping his real
state of health from me. What a blessing' It must be
to have money! I hope that my presence will not
,be a damper on your festivities. Hoping to see you
soon, I am,
"Your affectionate cousin,
' "MINNIE FAIRUE."
"Well!" said Katherine, emphatically, as she threw
the letter down on the table. "We're in for it! When
I think of all the people we might have had, who
would have liked to come "
The mother herself began to wonder, with a sink
ing of the heart, whether she had been quite wise
or quite fair to her own In following out her first
intention so slngle-mlndedly. Was she preferring a.
stranger's fancied happiness, to that of her children?
The home was theirs as well as hera; the season be
longed peculiarly to them It was their especial time,
even if they were grown up. Even her easy-going
husband had been a little doubtful when she had told
him of her intention of inviting his cousin'B widow
to stay with them now. "Won't she be a little in ths
way?" he had asked.
She swung so far the other way now that it hung
over her blackeningly; even Katherine, who, her hard
est critic, was also her etaunchest upholder, was fain
to give a word of comfort.
"Don't look like that, mother, she may not be so
awful as we think; and, at any rate, It's for only one
Christmas. I suppose we'll live through It. Of rmir
well each have to Kive her a Dresentr
"I have a box of note-paper you can take for her."
tllr les tone offered It eagerly: her Christmas
opirn revivea at tne very mention of gifts. "Peoplo
can always use note.nanpr nrf thi. a.
cheap for the quality. The picture on the box is really
lovely. See, a little child offering a lemon! . .
What is that you say? . . Well, my dear, I don't
see why a lemon isn t quite as appropriate as cherries
or apples, or any rther fruit You girls have such
queer, slangy ideas of your own. I bought some things
the other day, thinking they might come in handy.
Jean can give Cousin Minnie these hat-pins, and the
handkerchiefs can be from Jack. I will get her some
pretty silk for a waist, and your father will give her
asmall check. There is nothing, after all, like a
little money at Christmas'." Mrs. Fairlie slghed-the
season, as usual, blotted all else from her sight
thpugh even through her Christmas madness she tried
to be glad that her daughters had kept her own
check from her for her more lasting benefit; she was
remorsefully glad that they, were having, one thine
as they wanted if. ,
Yet through all the saturnalia of preparation Cou-
Sin Minnie's coming hung heavily over the household.
i opim me same aay that the last painful letter ar
rived fFiiltl IhA rf.ru1 u-..u. . m,. n n t--
5 has just been taken to-the hospital"), and also
on:ir. Mr. Letter, the beautiful youth of the house-
.VJ,.' Jem town on the Z3d. .Mrs. Falrllo
vvm .i(ui7 Bianu ine trageay. ei jatnermes eyea, i
' "I wish, oh, I wish that X . bad , never, asked her!" ;
cried the renegade.1, , t
"Never mind; we'll have to Invite Mm. to dinner,
anyway," said Jean, pale with, resolve. "I hope I only
hope that she won't talk about operations at .- tha
table!" , ' ' - - '
, It was late on the evening; of the appointed nine
teenth that Cousin Minnie came, lonar after the de
layed dinner had at last, been, cleared away and the
cook gone to bed with the-toothaohe.
Such a Blight little figure the mother ushered into
the room! She looked hardly -more than a child; it
was only by gazing closely , at the small - oval face
that one could see the lines of care around the dark
eyes and at the corners of the pretty mouth.. When
she spoke, the tones of her soft voice were vibrant
with a sweet earnestness; her eyes had a way of
meeting yours with a .swift, half-frightened gaze, that
changed trustfully the next Instant into a little crin
kling smile. Anything less like the Falrlies' precon
ceived idea of her it would have been hard to find.
Her dress was black. Indeed, but. as Katherine noticed
at once, the short skirt had the correct flare, the twist
of ribbon in the becoming hat had au air of its own.
she seemed to be the possessor of some charming
magnetism to which Mr. Fairlie succumbed at once,
atter the first conventional questions, and answers,
an1! which drew the womenklnd hospitably back and
forth from Cousin Minnie's bedroom afterward. In all
the intimacy of kimonos and undressing,., when they
had at last formally escorted her there.
.,-..u.' ' ' u. . - -,-
fi '- S
r tiw ji 'i'irii - -,- -w'o
. , 1 V Tflti,r I 1 V " made denim, overalls rr salrl
ajsjasiuk. . , . wim sr . r bwl . i ssr-
- til;
"I think It was the dearest thing- of . you to ask me
? to come." said the visitor, when Katherine had pulled
,iiow the blinds,) and Jean had brought her some toi
let water,, and Mrs.- Falrlie -was getting yet another
coverlet from the closet. Cousin Minnie's eyes sought
those of each person In torn the halrbrush sbo held
In her hand shook.: "You can't think what it seems
like to be in a real homev It's so Ions; sine Iva had
-one; though, any place seemed like home to me when,
I 'had Evan. Can I unhook you, dear" - . y
"Please. :' What beautiful hair yon haver aald ;
"Jean. ; ' ,, -''. ; v t
- : "My halrT Why, It's nothing now! Ifi only:to my
knees. I used to be able to step on It." '
"It's the most beautiful thing X over saw," said
Katharine, rapturously. "I wish I could twist mine
that way!"
"I'll do yours lor you tomorrow If you'll let me,"
offered 'the visitor. Her earnest voice took on a
sweetly' coaxing tone. "You must let me do every
thing I can to help when I'm here; it will be such a
pleasure! I want to make one of my puddings for
Cousin Richard. Evan thinks I can cook better than
anybody. And ! brought my thimble, in the bag so
that I can start sewing for you the first thing in the
morning. I know how many pretty ttrlngs girls need
to have finished for the holidays." , ' -
"You oughtn't to work wnlle you're here." pro,
tested Jean, with one arm thrown around the little
figure. - "Sou ought to rest.' -
"Oh, no, dear! I can't rest." Cousin Minnie's fin
gers locked and unlocked with a strange, wild little
motion. "Since Evan wett away I Just have to work.
I can't explain it, but to rest would kill me! I. often
sew overtime at the Institution." -...
"What do you sew there?" asked Katherine, cu
riously; she had cuddled down In a heap on the chlnts
lounge, with her eyes fixed on the visitor, ; t
,5Oh!" cried Mrs. Fairlie, wincing; her Imagination,
fertile as it was. had never compassed anything like
.this. But the other went on:
"It will be such a delight to work on pretty laces
and chiffon." She turned to the mother with her lit-'
tie erlnky smile. 'You don't know how I love girls!"
"They are pretty nice to have," responded Mrs.
Fairlie.' "But I heard you telling Richard how splen
didly your. boy was getting on, working his way
"through college and all. You must bo very proud of
hlim Where does he. spend his Christmas?"
, f"Why, he's staying alone right there!" said Cousin
Minnie. ' There was a sudden catch in her voice. "He
was invited to Visit a friend, but the friend has been
taken ill Evan writes me not to mind about him;
;ie's very fond of reading.-He writes to me every day.
He But perhaps you'll like to see the picture of
my Arthurs son!" .
She. turned to -the open suitcase and, taking .from
it a leather-framed photograph, stood it proudly on
the dressing' table. "There he is?" .
She well might triumph in their gaze. Photo
graphs, often so obliterating, so concealing of the real
person, have their magic moments; tho soul of Cousin
Minnie's boy stood revealed In this portrayal of him,
in the sturdy set of his. shoulders, the gallant poise
of his bonny head, the sweetness of his curved Hps,
the high-tieartedness, the -divinely youthful courage
of those straightforward eyes. v .
"Oh, isn't he a dear!" cried JCatherlne,' witn a gasp,
and Mrs. Farlle put her arms around the little mother
as If feeling the latter's loss for the first time.
"How you must miss him!" she exclaimed, and
Cousin Minnie's eyes brimmed : pitifully; two great
tears fell, and ran down her cheeks, while she tried
to smile unflinchingly' through them.
"He's so glad I'm, with you!" she said.
Preparations for Christmas went on with a new
ardor, a new facility of completion,, after Cousin Min
nie's arrival. There seemed nothing - about her to
justify their, harrowing , anticipations save the fact,
artlessly announced, that writing . letters, except to
Kvan, frightened her to' death; she was such a poor
letter-writer, she never knew what to say; her morn-
Inir's'nnlst'ttt to the matron ' of the Institution seemed
' to have been, from her own version of It,, filled with
accounts of the cook's toothache and . the-lameness
. -from which Mr. Fairlie had suffered before she came,
.i'ma matters of polite Interest. For. the rest, as anln
. mate of the household, she filled in chinks with a i
velvet-like-ease and cheerfulness that was the most
. . . : : , .. . , v
soothing thing in life. Her coaxing. "Now. let me. do
this for you" witched care from the'souj and work
from the fingers, whether It were sweeping, or dust
ing or mending or tying up those endless -parcels In
tissue paper. . - ,
, Whetuyoung Mr. X!tar came' to dinner It was
- Cousin Minnie's decorations that made the table so
lovely, and her tact., afterward that ; blessedly kept
"father"; playing checkers with her all the evening;
it was she who , listened to Jean's and Katharine's
confidences ' long after the tired mother was in bed,
and she who listened at every chance the next day to
that mother's Intensely Interested converse, about her
. children, Mrs. .Fairlie would have been Very happy
with this sweet hejp and sympathy If
Oh. deep in her soul was the corroding anguish
of Minnie's deprivation! If she hadn't combined her
money with the children's for the rug If she could
only have surprised Minnie with the gift ot her dear
boy's presence on Christmas Day 1 There were mo
ments when the thought of all her blessings com
pared with Minnie's poverty was almost more than
she could bear. She tentatively opened the subject
with Richard, only to receive his sympathetic assur-
anC'Td like nothing better than to send for Evan
I'd like nothing better for Minnie's sake. They seem
to be a plucky pair Arthur might be proud of them,
poor fellow! But I absolutely haven't any $60 to
spare just now, that's the truth and it would take
alt of that to get the boy here and back again. You'll
have the house pretty full, anyway, won't, you,. with
Jack and his friends?" .
"Mother will go without everything she really
wants unless we look out for her," Katherine pro
claimed to the sympathizer in public. "Now, mother,
I'm not talking to you!"
'My dear, I've been thinking how very pretty some
of the grass rugs are,'' said Mrs. Fairlie, dlplomatic
. ally. "Those large oriental ones are so heavy, and
they require a great deal of care. I really don't know
that X feel quite up to ft. A cheaper kind, now, for
a t flollftro ' t -
"Now, mother!" Katherine s arm went around her
parent protectingly. "You know perfectly well that
you hate cheap things. She does. Cousin Minpie; she
never uses them after she gets-them! ' She won't have
anything but what Is 'good.' .". Her eyes flashed mean
ingly in denial of her mother's dumb appeal. "And
?rou're going to have it! Jean and I are not going to
et you go without It for anybody! Jean and I are
looking out for you." .
"Yes, dear," said Mrs. Fairlie, with, after all a
thrill of pride in their care for her she had no right
to gainsay it. But how she hated that rug! To her
in tenseness the idea of stepping on It was like step
ping on Minnie's heart.
Yet she hoped against hope during all those hours
In which it would still be possible to get a letter to
Evan in time; then, on the evening of tho 2 2d, she
finally gave up. -It was too late now. '
Jean came to her room as she was dressing, to say:
"Now, mother, dear, I hope you're not foolish enough,
to worry, about Cousin Minnie. She's enjoying every
thing so much she told me so 'today; and she had a
. lovely letter from Evan he's quite contented whero
he Is."' : . . i .
"Oh, I'm' so glad!" said Mrs. Fairlie, happily. ,
' Minnie was enjoying herself. Mrs. Fairlie watched
her that evening, noting her, pretty wavering color
and her merry laugh.' Minnie was looking so much
better since she came to them.
Mr. Fairlie was away that night.'. Jftick and his
chum had . come home with all sof ts of . schoolboy
chatter and clatter. It was late when they all got to
bed, and later still, nearly 1 o'clock, -when .Mrs. Fair
lie, who had just dropped asleep, was awakened by
the blaze of her electric light, and saw tha nlght-
" gowned Katherine's eyes glaring at her. .
"Mother We can't stand it a moment longer!" A
! wlld Jerk over her shoulder, indicated the ghostily
approaching 'Jean. "We sawn light in Cousin Min
nie's room Jean and I, had been sitting up talking
'and wo opened the door softly to surprise her, and
she was lying there with 'Evan's picture crying
crying! Oh, mother, we never saw any one crying
like-that! -Oh, mother there, I'm going to howl my
self now!" i
"Hush!" hush!" said the mother warnlngly, with.
, arms around both white-robed figures as they huddled,
together on top of the bed. t , . , .: ,
"I can't hush until we do something to get that
boy here!" Kutherine's Voice moaned 'defiantly through
her sob.' !'We don't, care any more about that old
rug than you do! Tomorrow's only the 3d Mother,
we want to telegraph the money and instructions to
him ths first thing in the jnornlng. the way you did
me once and .ho can take the afternoon train from
New York and get here for Christmas Eve in time to
" help put up the greens if you're willing.! -
Willing! As Mrs. Fairlie' lay there that night she
had a soberness of Joy, as one who had unwittingly
set foot in sacred places. As of old,, this was to be a ,
festival of a mother and a child. .And to have those
you loved one with you in the glory in the highest!
' It seemed as if she had been fndeed "anointed wltk
the oil Of gladness above her fallows." , ' i