Ethelyn's Mistake

But Ethelyn declined it, saying, "My napkin is all that I shall

require."

Mrs. Markham, and Eunice, and Andy glanced at each other. Napkins were a

luxury in which Mrs. Markham had never indulged. She knew they were

common in almost every family of her acquaintance; but she did not see

of what use they were, except to make more washing, and as her standard

of things was the standard of thirty years back she was not easily

convinced; and even Melinda Jones had failed on the napkin question.

Ethelyn had been too much excited to observe their absence the previous

night, and she now spoke in all sincerity, never dreaming that there was

not such an article in the house. But there was a small square towel of

the finest linen, and sacred to the memory of Daisy, who had hemmed it

herself and worked her name in the corner. It was lying in the drawer,

now, with her white cambric dress, and, at a whispered word from her

mistress, Eunice brought it out and laid it in Ethelyn's lap, while

Richard's face grew crimson as he began to think that possibly his

mother might be a very little behind the times in her household

arrangements.

Ethelyn's appetite had improved since the previous night, and she did

ample justice to the well-cooked dinner; but her spirits were ruffled

again when, on returning to her room an hour or so after dinner, she

found it in the same disorderly condition in which she had left it.

Ethelyn had never taken charge of her own room, for at Aunt Barbara's

Betty had esteemed it a privilege to wait upon her young mistress, while

Aunt Van Buren would have been horror-stricken at the idea of any one of

her guests making their own bed. Mrs. Markham, on the contrary, could

hardly conceive of a lady too fine to do that service herself, and

Eunice was not the least to blame for omitting to do what she had never

been told was her duty to do. A few words from Richard, however, and the

promise of an extra quarter per week made that matter all right, and

neither Betty nor Mrs. Dr. Van Buren's trained chambermaid, Mag, had

ever entered into the clearing-up process with greater zeal than did

Eunice when once she knew that Richard expected it of her. She was

naturally kind-hearted, and though Ethelyn's lofty ways annoyed her

somewhat, her admiration for the beautiful woman and her elegant

wardrobe was unbounded, and she felt a pride in waiting upon her which

she would once have thought impossible to feel in anything pertaining to

her duties as a servant.

The following morning brought with it the opening of the box where the

family presents were; but Ethelyn did not feel as much interest in them

now as when they were purchased. She knew how out of place they were,

and fully appreciated the puzzled expression on James' face when he saw

the blue velvet smoking cap. It did not harmonize with the common clay

pipe he always smoked on Sunday, and much less with the coarse cob thing

she saw him take from the kitchen mantel that morning just after he left

the breakfast table and had donned the blue frock he wore upon the farm.

He did not know what the fanciful-tasseled thing was for; but he

reflected that Melinda, who had been to boarding school, could enlighten

him, and he thanked his pretty sister with a good deal of gentlemanly

grace. He was naturally more observing than Richard, and with the same

advantages would have polished sooner. Though a little afraid of

Ethelyn, there was something in her refined, cultivated manners very

pleasing to him, and his soft eyes looked down upon her kindly as he

took the cap and carried it to his room, laying it carefully away in the

drawer where his Sunday shirts, and collars, and "dancing pumps," and

fishing tackle, and paper of chewing tobacco were.