Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work

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At times in my life it has almost drawn _me_ into its depths--and I am

not mad. I have never been mad."

"Let us hope for the best, Mrs. Rogers," said Beth. "Somehow, I have an

idea this trouble will all turn out well in the end."

"Have you?" asked the woman, earnestly.

"Yes. It all came about through such a little thing--merely an unjust

accusation."

"The little things are the ones that ruin lives," she said. "Will you

let me tell you something of myself? You have been so kind to us, my

dear, that I feel you ought to know."

"I shall be glad to know whatever you care to tell me," said Beth,

simply.

"I am the wife of a poor farmer," began the woman, speaking softly and

with some hesitation, but gaining strength as she proceeded. "As a girl

I was considered attractive, and my father was a man of great wealth and

social standing. We lived in Baltimore. Then I fell in love with a young

man who, after obtaining my promise to marry him, found some one he

loved better and carelessly discarded me. As I have said, I have a

sensitive nature. In my girlhood I was especially susceptible to any

slight, and this young man's heartless action made it impossible for me

to remain at home and face the humiliation he had thrust upon me. My

father was a hard man, and demanded that I marry the man he had himself

chosen; but I resented this command and ran away. My mother had passed

on long before, and there was nothing to keep me at home. I came west

and secured a position to teach school in this county, and for a time I

was quite contented and succeeded in living down my disappointment. I

heard but once from my father. He had married again and disinherited me.

He forbade me to ever communicate with him again.

"At that time Will Rogers was one of the most promising and manly of the

country lads around here. He was desperately in love with me, and at

this period, when I seemed completely cut off from my old life and the

future contained no promise, I thought it best to wear out the remainder

of my existence in the seclusion of a farm-house.

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