My Pretty Maid; or, Liane LesterMiller, Alex. McVeigh, Mrs.
Philosophy
My Pretty Maid; or, Liane Lester
Miller, Alex. McVeigh, Mrs.
Dime novels; Foundlings -- Fiction; Identity -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"Mind your own business, girl. I'll take as much as I choose! Ay, and
pour some down your throat, too, if you don't look out!"
Liane drank her tea in silence, while the old woman went on angrily:
"I want that forty dollars you kept back from me, girl, and I mean to
have it, too, or give you a beating!"
This was a frequent threat, so Liane did not pay much heed, she only
gazed fixedly at the old hag, and said:
"Granny, suppose I were to go away and leave you forever, do you think
you could be happy without me?"
"Humph! And why not, pray?"
Liane sighed, and answered:
"I was just thinking how I have been your slave, beaten and cuffed
like a dog for eighteen years, and I was wondering if in all that time,
when I have been so patient and you so cruel, if you had in your heart
one spark of love for your miserable grandchild!"
"Eh?" cried granny, staring at her fixedly, while Liane continued:
"Ever since I could toddle I have labored at your bidding, fetching
and carrying, with nothing, but scoldings and beatings in return, and
not a gleam of sunshine in my poor life. You have not shown me either
mercy or pity; you have made my whole life as wretched as possible, and
I have sometimes wondered why Heaven has permitted my sufferings to
continue so long. Now, I have a strange feeling, as if somehow it was
all coming to an end, and I wonder if you will miss me, and regret your
unnatural conduct, when I am gone out of your life forever?"
She spoke with such sweet, grave seriousness that the old woman
regarded her earnestly, noting, as she had never closely done before,
the beauty and sweetness of the young eyes turned upon her with such
pathetic solemnity.
"Maybe you mean to run away with some rascal, like your mother!" she
sneered at length.
"I was not thinking of any man, or of running away, granny; only, it
seems to me, there's a change coming into my life, and I am going out
of yours forever!"
"Do you mean you're going to die?"
"No, granny, I mean that I shall be happy, after all these wretched
years; that my starved heart will be fed on love and kindness, and I
want to tell you now that if Heaven grants me the blessings I look for,
I shall leave you that forty dollars as a gift, for then I shall not
need it," returned Liane solemnly.
"Better give it here, now; you might forget when your luck comes
to you. And--and, you ain't never going to need it after to-night,
anyway!" returned granny, with a ghastly grin.
"No, I prefer to wait till to-morrow!" the young girl answered, with
a sudden start of fear, for the glare the old woman fixed on her was
positively murderous.
She got up, thinking she would go down and see if Lizzie had returned
from her work yet; but granny sprang from her chair and adroitly turned
the key in the lock, standing with her back against the door.
Liane's eyes flashed with impatience.
"Let me out, granny!" she cried. "This is not fair!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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