Three Women Part 2

While something at times like a petulant sound Seemed in strange disaccord with the peace so profound Of the eyes and the brow.

Though our sight is deceived The ear is an organ that may be believed.

The faces of people are trained to conceal, But their unruly voices are p.r.o.ne to reveal What lies deep in their natures; a voice rarely lies, But Mabel Lee's voice told one tale, while her eyes Told another. Large, liquid, and peaceful as lakes Where the azure dawn rests, ere the loud world awakes, Were the beautiful eyes of the maiden. "A saint, Without mortal blemish or weak human taint,"

Said Maurice to himself. To himself Roger said: "The touch of her soft little hands on my head Would convert me. What peace for a world weary breast To just sit by her side and be soothed into rest."

Daring thoughts for a stranger. Maurice, who had known Mabel Lee as a child, to himself would not own Such bold longings as those were. He held her to be Too sacred for even a thought that made free.

And the voice in his bosom was silenced and hushed Lest the bloom from her soul by his words should be brushed.

There are men to whom love is religion; but woman Is far better pleased with a homage more human.

Though she may not be able to love in like fashion, She wants to be wooed with both ardor and pa.s.sion.

Had Mabel Lee read Roger's thoughts of her, bold Though they were, they had flattered and pleased her, I hold.

The stranger was duly presented.

_Roger:_

Miss Lee, I am sure, has no least recollection of me, But the pleasure is mine to have looked on her face Once before this.

_Mabel:_

Indeed? May I ask where?

_Roger:_

The place Was the train, and the time yesterday.

_Mabel:_

"Then I came From my shopping excursion in town by the same Fast express which brought you? Had I known that the friend Of my friends, was so near me en route for Bay Bend, I had waived all conventions and asked him to take One-half of my parcels for sweet pity's sake.

_Roger:_

You sadden me sorely. As long as I live I shall mourn the great pleasure chance chose not to give.

_Maurice:_

Take courage, mon ami. Our fair friend, Miss Lee, Fills her time quite as full of sweet works as the bee; Like the bee, too, she drives out the drones from her hive.

You must toil in her cause, in her favor to thrive.

_Roger:_

She need but command me. To wait upon beauty And goodness combined makes a pleasure of duty.

_Maurice:_

Who serves Mabel Lee serves all Righteousness too.

Pray, then, that she gives you some labor to do.

The cure for the pessimist lies in good deeds.

Who toils for another forgets his own needs, And mischief and misery never attend On the man who is occupied fully.

_Ruth:_

Our friend Has the town on her shoulders. Whatever may be The cause that is needy, we look to Miss Lee.

Have you gold? She will make you disgorge it ere long; Are you poor? Well, perchance you can dance--sing a song-- Make a speech--tell a story, or plan a charade.

Whatever you have, gold or wits, sir, must aid In her numerous charities.

_Mabel:_

Riches and brain Are but loans from the Master. He meant them, 'tis plain, To be used in His service; and people are kind, When once you can set them to thinking. I find It is lack of perception, not lack of good heart Which makes the world selfish in seeming. My part Is to call the attention of Plenty to need, And to bid Pleasure pause for a moment and heed The woes and the burdens of Labor.

_Roger:_

One plea From the rosy and eloquent lips of Miss Lee Would make Avarice pour out his coffers of gold At her feet, I should fancy; would soften the cold, Selfish heart of the world to compa.s.sionate sighs, And bring tears of pity to vain Pleasure's eyes.

As the sunset a color on lily leaves throws, The words and the glances of Roger Montrose O'er the listener's cheeks sent a pink tinted wave; While Maurice seemed disturbed, and his sister grew grave.

The false c.h.i.n.k of flattery's coin smites the ear With an unpleasant ring when the heart is sincere.

Yet the man whose mind pockets are filled with this ore, Though empty his brain cells, is never a bore To the opposite s.e.x.

While Maurice knew of old Roger's wealth in that coin that does duty for gold In Society dealings, it hurt him to see The cheap metal offered to sweet Mabel Lee.

(Yet, perchance, the hurt came, not so much that 'twas offered, As in seeing her take, with a smile, what was proffered.) They had walked, two by two, down the elm shaded street, Which led to a cottage, vine hidden, and sweet With the breath of the roses that covered it, where Mabel paused in the gateway; a picture most fair.

"I would ask you to enter," she said, "ere you pa.s.s, But in just twenty minutes my Sunday-school cla.s.s Claims my time and attention; and later I meet A Committee on Plans for the boys of the street.

We seek to devise for these pupils in crime Right methods of thought and wise uses of time.

_Roger:_

I am but a vagrant, untutored and wild, May I join your street cla.s.s, and be taught like a child?

_Mabel:_

If you come I will carefully study your case.

_Maurice:_

I must go along, too, just to keep him in place.

_Mabel:_

Then you think him unruly?

_Maurice:_

Decidedly so.

_Roger:_

I was, but am changed since one-half hour ago.

Mabel:__