A VISITOR FROM THE EAST
"Of all the different kinds of housework, I think pickling is the most disagreeable!"
Marjorie made this remark as she came into her aunt's room one glorious October afternoon. Miss Graham's room was the prettiest and most luxurious in the ranch house. Every comfort which limited income and inaccessible surroundings could afford had been procured for the invalid, and to Marjorie, after a hard day's work of helping her mother and Juanita in the yearly pickling, it seemed a very haven of rest and comfort. Miss Graham herself, in a pretty pink wrapper, was lying on the sofa, while Undine read aloud to her. She was a very different Undine from the pale, timid girl of two months before. The thin cheeks had filled out wonderfully, and the big brown eyes had almost entirely lost their expression of frightened bewilderment, for Undine had found her place in the household and was happy. I have my doubts as to whether Undine would have proved of great use in the kitchen, her knowledge of any kind of housework being decidedly limited, but before she had been in her new home a fortnight Miss Graham was taken ill. It was not a serious illness, though a tedious and painful one, and almost from the first moment Undine had established herself as nurse. Her devotion was touching; it was with difficulty that she could be persuaded to leave the invalid's bedside even for the necessary rest and exercise, and she would gladly have worked night and day in the service of gentle Miss Graham, who almost unconsciously grew to love the girl, and to depend upon her more than she would have believed possible in so short a time.
Now Miss Graham was better, and the task of nursing was almost at an end, but she was still weak, and Mr. and Mrs. Graham were thankful for the willing service of the girl whom they had taken into their home on account of her friendless condition and her big honest brown eyes.
"You don't know what you two people have been spared to-day," continued Marjorie, throwing herself wearily into the rocking-chair. "Thank goodness, they're all done, and we shall have pickles enough to last another year."
"We haven't been spared the smell," said Miss Graham, laughing. "I really felt at one time to-day that I would gladly forego pickles for the rest of my life."
"What have you been reading?" Marjorie inquired, with a glance at the book Undine had put down on her entrance.
"'Lorna Doone.' We have had a delightful afternoon. It is such a charming story, and Undine reads aloud remarkably well."
Marjorie glanced out of the window, at the brilliant autumn sunshine.
"I think I'll go for a ride, to get the smell of the pickles out of my nostrils," she said. "Mother says she won't need me any more to-day."