Mrs. Brady was at the wash-tub again when her most uncommon and unexpected

grandchild burst into the room.

She wiped her hands on her apron, and sat down with her usual exclamation,

"Fer the land sakes! What's happened? Bessie, tell me quick. Is anything

the matter with Lizzie? Where is she?"

But Elizabeth was on the floor at her feet in tears. She was shaking with

sobs, and could scarcely manage to stammer out that Lizzie was all right.

Mrs. Brady settled back with a relieved sigh. Lizzie was the first

grandchild, and therefore the idol of her heart. If Lizzie was all right,

she could afford to be patient and find out by degrees.

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"It's that awful man, grandmother!" Elizabeth sobbed out.

"What man? That feller in Montana you run away from?" The grandmother sat

up with snapping eyes. She was not afraid of a man, even if he did shoot

people. She would call in the police and protect her own flesh and blood.

Let him come. Mrs. Brady was ready for him.

"No, no, grandmother, the man--man--manager at the ten-cent store," sobbed

the girl; "he kissed me! Oh!" and she shuddered as if the memory was the

most terrible thing that ever came to her.

"Fer the land sakes! Is that all?" said the woman with much relief and a

degree of satisfaction. "Why, that's nothing. You ought to be proud. Many

a girl would go boasting round about that. What are you crying for? He

didn't hurt you, did he? Why, Lizzie seems to think he's fine. I tell you

Lizzie wouldn't cry if he was to kiss her, I'm sure. She'd just laugh, and

ask him fer a holiday. Here, sit up, child, and wash your face, and go

back to your work. You've evidently struck the manager on the right side,

and you're bound to get a rise in your wages. Every girl he takes a notion

to gets up and does well. Perhaps you'll get money enough to go to school.

Goodness knows what you want to go for. I s'pose it's in the blood, though

Bess used to say your pa wa'n't any great at study. But, if you've struck

the manager the right way, no telling what he might do. He might even want

to marry you."

"Grandmother!"

Mrs. Brady was favored with the flashing of the Bailey eyes. She viewed it

in astonishment not unmixed with admiration.

"Well, you certainly have got spirit," she ejaculated. "I don't wonder he

liked you. I didn't know you was so pretty, Bessie; you look like your

mother when she was eighteen; you really do. I never saw the resemblance

before. I believe you'll get on all right. Don't you be afraid. I wish you

had your chance if you're so anxious to go to school. I shouldn't wonder

ef you'd turn out to be something and marry rich. Well, I must be getting

back to me tub. Land sakes, but you did give me a turn. I thought Lizzie

had been run over. I couldn't think what else'd make you run off way here

without your coat. Come, get up, child, and go back to your work. It's

too bad you don't like to be kissed, but don't let that worry you. You'll

have lots worse than that to come up against. When you've lived as long as

I have and worked as hard, you'll be pleased to have some one admire you.

You better wash your face, and eat a bite of lunch, and hustle back. You

needn't be afraid. If he's fond of you, he won't bother about your running

away a little. He'll excuse you ef 'tis busy times, and not dock your pay

neither."




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