Mary Minds Her Business | Page 6

each
other in silence, the same fear in both their glances.
"Oh, Cordelia," suddenly spoke Miss Patty. "Suppose it is a girl--!"
"Hush, dear. Remember, we must have brave thoughts. And even if the
first one is a girl, there'll be plenty of time for a boy--"
"I hadn't thought of that," said Miss Patty.

They smiled at each other in concert, and a faint touch of colour arose
to Miss Cordelia's slightly withered cheeks.
"Do you know," she said, hesitating, smiling--yes, and thrilling a little,
too--"we've had so much to do with bringing it about, that somehow I
feel as though it's going to be my baby--"
"Why, Cordelia!" whispered Miss Patty, who had been nodding
throughout this confession. "That's exactly how I feel about it, too!"
It wasn't long after that before they began to look up names.
"If Josiah wasn't such a family name," said Miss Cordelia, "I'd like to
call him Basil. That means kingly or royal." Then of course they turned
to Cordelia. Cordelia meant warm-hearted. Patricia meant royal.
Martha meant the ruler of the house.
They were pleased at these revelations.
The week before the great event was expected, Martha had a notion one
day. She wished to visit the factory. Josiah interpreted this as the
happiest of auguries.
"After seven generations," was his cryptic remark, "you simply can't
keep them away. It's bred in the bone...."
He drove Martha down to the works himself, and took her through the
various shops, some of which were of such a length that when you
stood at one end, the other seemed to vanish into distance.
Everything went well until they reached the shipping room where a
travelling crane was rolling on its tracks overhead, carrying a load of
boxes. This crane was hurrying back empty for another load, its chain
and tackle swinging low, when Martha started across the room to look
at one of the boys who had caught his thumb between a hammer and a
nail and was trying to bind it with his handkerchief. The next moment
the swinging tackle of the crane struck poor Martha in the back, caught
in her dress and dragged her for a few horrible yards along the floor.

That night the house on the hill had two unexpected visitors, the Angel
of Death following quickly in the footsteps of the Angel of Life.
"You poor motherless little thing," breathed Cordelia, cuddling the
baby in her arms. "Look, Josiah," she said, trying to rouse her brother.
"Look ...it's smiling at you--"
But Josiah looked up with haggard eyes that saw nothing, and could
only repeat the sentence which he had been whispering to himself, "It's
God's own punishment--God's own punishment--there are things--I
can't tell you--"
The doctor came to him at last and, after he was quieter, the two sisters
went away, carrying their precious burden with them.
"Wasn't there a girl's name which means bitterness?" asked Miss
Cordelia, suddenly stopping.
"Yes," said Miss Patty. "That's what 'Mary' means."
The two sisters looked at each other earnestly--looked at each other and
nodded.
"We'll call her 'Mary' then," said Miss Cordelia.
And that is how my heroine got her name.

CHAPTER IV
I wish I had time to tell you in the fulness of detail how those two
spinsters brought up Mary, but there is so much else to put before you
that I dare not dally here. Still, I am going to find time to say that all
the love and affection which Miss Cordelia and Miss Patty had ever
woven into their fancies were now showered down upon Mary--falling
softly and sweetly like petals from two full-blown roses when stirred
by a breeze from the south.

When she was a baby, Mary's nose had an upward tilt.
One morning after Miss Cordelia had bathed her (which would have
reminded you of a function at the court of the Grand Monarque, with its
Towel Holder, Soap Holder, Temperature Taker and all and sundry)
she suddenly sent the two maids and the nurse away and, casting
dignity to the winds, she lifted Mary in a transport of love which
wouldn't be denied any longer, and pretended to bite the end of the poor
babe's nose off.
"Oh, I know it's candy," she said, mumbling away and hugging the
blessed child. "It's even got powdered sugar on it--"
"That's talcum powder," said Miss Patty, watching with a jealous eye.
"Powdered sugar, yes," persisted Miss Cordelia, mumbling on. "I know.
And I know why her nose turns up at the end, too. That naughty Miss
Patty washed it with yellow soap one night when I wasn't looking--"
"I never, never did!" protested Miss Patty, all indignation in a moment.
"Washed it with yellow soap, yes," still persisted Miss Cordelia, "and
made it