Lovey Mary

								

time only served to increase. It had started with Kate Rider, who used
to pinch her, and laugh at her, and tell the other girls to "get on to
her curves." Curves had signified something dreadful to Lovey Mary;
she would have experienced real relief could she have known that she
did not possess any. It was not Kate Rider, however, who was causing
the present tears; she had left the home two years before, and her
name was not allowed to be mentioned even in whispers. Neither was it
rebellion against the work that had cast Lovey Mary into such depths
of gloom; fourteen beds had been made, fourteen heads had been combed,
and fourteen wriggling little bodies had been cheerfully buttoned into
starchy blue ginghams exactly like her own.
Something deeper and more mysterious was fermenting in her soul--
something that made her long passionately for the beautiful things of
life, for love and sympathy and happiness; something that made her
want to be good, yet tempted her constantly to rebel against her
environs. It was just the world-old spirit that makes the veriest
little weed struggle through a chink in the rock and reach upward
toward the sun.
"What's the matter with your hair, Lovey Mary? It looks so funny,"
asked a small girl, coming up the steps.
"If anybody asts you, tell 'em you don't know," snapped Lovey Mary.
"Well, Miss Bell says for you to come down to the office," said the
other, unabashed. "There's a lady down there--a lady and a baby. Me
and Susie peeked in. Miss Bell made the lady cry; she made her wipe
the powders off her compleshun."
"And she sent for me?" asked Lovey Mary, incredulously. Such a ripple
in the still waters of the home was sufficient to interest the most
disconsolate.
"Yes; and me and Susie's going to peek some more."
Lovey Mary dried her tears and hurried down to the office. As she
stood at the door she heard a girl's excited voice protesting and
begging, and Miss Bell's placid tones attempting to calm her. They
paused as she entered.
"Mary," said Miss Bell, "you remember Kate Rider. She has brought her
child for us to take care of for a while. Have you room for him in
your division?"
As Lovey Mary looked at the gaily dressed girl on the sofa, her
animosity rekindled. It was not Kate's bold black eyes that stirred
her wrath, nor the hard red lips that recalled the taunts of other
days: it was the sight of the auburn curls gathered in tantalizing
profusion under the brim of the showy hat.
"Mary, answer my question!" said Miss Bell, sharply.
With an involuntary shudder of repugnance Lovey Mary drew her gaze
from Kate and murmured, "Yes, 'm."
"Then you can take the baby with you," continued Miss Bell, motioning
to the sleeping child. "But wait a moment. I think I will put Jennie
at the head of your division and let you have entire charge of this
little boy. He is only a year old, Kate tells me, so will need
constant attention."
Lovey Mary was about to protest, when Kate broke in: