Mixed Pickles

BY EVELYN RAYMOND
NEW YORK: THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 46 East Fourteenth Street.
Copyrighted, 1892, By Thomas Y. Crowell & Co. Electrotyped and printed by Alfred Mudge & Son, Boston.
MIXED PICKLES
“Oh!” gasped Grandmother Capers, throwing her hands upward with a gesture of dismay; “oh, what a terrible infliction!” And she began rocking herself violently to and fro, and screwing her lips about in the manner which, with her, always denoted extreme perturbation. Then she glanced across the pleasant room to a lounge and its occupant.
“I hope—it will not be that!” responded Grandmother Kinsolving, feebly. She still held the bomb-like telegram between her trembling fingers, and was as yet too much overpowered by the announcement it contained to have a better answer ready.
“It is our own house, is it not, mother?” demanded Aunt Ruth, with some asperity.
A voice from the lounge took up the conversation.
“They can’t come here; that is all there is about it. If they do, I shall leave.” The speaker’s tone was decided and aggressive. It caused the eyes of the other three persons in the apartment to fasten themselves upon the fretful face above the great pillows.
Only one of the three, however, had courage to reply. That one was Aunt Ruth, who should have been soft and yielding by nature had she lived up to her name. But she did not; neither did the plain garb of a Friend which she wore appear to have its customary effect in subduing the quick temper with which she had been born.
“If thee wishes to leave, thee is at perfect liberty to do so. The Kinsolving homestead cannot open its doors to one branch of the family and exclude another. Thee and thy kin are welcome here; so is dear Content; so shall my sister Lydia’s children be.”
With that, which was even more determined in tone than the invalid’s had been, Ruth Kinsolving ended all remark upon the telegram, and went away to answer it.