BESSIE’S SUCCESSOR.

With the morrow the new housemaid came, but Miss McPherson was too anxious about her niece to observe more than that the girl was fresh, and bright, and clean, with a wonderful brogue and a clear, ringing voice.  Miss Betsey had called the village doctor, who, after carefully examining his patient, said she was suffering either from nervous prostration or malaria, he could not tell which, until he had seen her again; then, prescribing quinine for the latter, and perfect rest for the former, he left just as the new girl appeared and with her volubility and energy seemed to fill the house.  As quickly as possible Miss Betsey got her into the kitchen, and then went to her niece’s room.

“I must have been asleep,” Bessie said, “for I dreamed that I heard Jennie’s voice, and I was so glad that it woke me, and I thought I heard it again.  She was the Irish girl who was so kind to me on the ship.  You remember I told you of her.”

“Yes,” Miss Betsey replied, “I think you liked her very much.”

“Oh, yes, very, very much, and I would give a great deal to see her again, I believe I should get well at once, there is something so strong and hearty about her.”

To this Miss McPherson made no reply, but all the rest of the morning she seemed very restless and excited, and was constantly hushing the new girl, whom she once bade the cook gag, if she could not quiet her in any other way.

“I have a sick niece up stairs, and you will disturb her,” she said to the girl, who replied: 

“An’ sure thin, mum, I’ll whisper.”

But her whisper seemed to penetrate everywhere, and Miss McPherson was glad when at last the toast and tea and jelly intended for Bessie’s dinner were ready upon the tray which she bade the girl take up stairs to the young lady whose room was at the end of the hall.

“An’ indade I’d take off me shoes and go in me stockin’ feet to be quiet:  an’ it’s niver a word I’ll spake,” the girl said, as she started on her errand, while her mistress listened at the foot of the stairs.

Miss McPherson was prepared for a demonstration if some sort, but did not quite expect what followed, for the moment the girl stepped into the room, Bessie sprang up with the loud glad cry:  “Oh, Jennie, Jennie, where did you come from?  I am so glad!”

There was an answering cry of surprise and joy, and then the tray, with everything upon it, went crashing to the floor, while Jennie exclaimed: 

“An’, be jabers, the plather an’ the tay is all one smash together, in me fright at seem’ you here before me, when it’s meself was goin’ to ask her to take you.  May the saints be praised, if it’s not the happiest day since I left Ireland,” and bending over Bessie the impulsive Irish girl kissed her again and again, talking, and laughing, and crying, until Bessie said to her: 

“There, Jennie, please; I am very tired, and your sudden coming has taken my strength away.”