id, archly. "I did
my very best to teach you a lesson, young man. Have you learned it?"

The answer was fervently though silently given the merry, rosy, smiling
lips.

Treesa

A CHARACTER SKETCH

They called her Treesa. She was not young. That she had ever been was
hard to realize. Whatever her childhood, and however the years had
brought her up to woman's estate, there was no footprint upon the worn
face of the gladsome time we call youth. No light in the eye of other
and happier days. No echo in the quiet heart, of bounding pulses, or
ever a sweet enthusiasm. The treadmill of duty in life's most trivial
task, enthralled her every faculty. Her daily round was in a large
hotel--an arena of toil circumscribed by four brick walls. Her domain
was the parlor floor; that sacred area of rosy vistas and costly suites,
where she was as proud to tread as a king in his royal glory. Where
beauty and fashion made for her a panorama of short glimpses amid pauses
of broom and duster.

The maids on the other floors might earn the wage just as honorably;
Treesa permitted no trespass upon her exalted territory. The bridal
chambers, the private sitting rooms, the luxurious sleeping
apartments--these were her pride and her joy. The Excelsior had a
reputation, national and international. Princes and potentates had
slumbered in Treesa's chambers. The "nobility and the gentry" had been
feted there. Year after year her pale eyes had watched over the welfare
of distinguished visitors, American and foreign. They had seen the help
come and go; she was still the "girl of the parlor floor." Discreet,
silent, honest, they might well allow her a share of caprice. "Cranky"
they called her, yet no one found fault. She neglected no duty. The lady
manager of the interior was not always the same. She changed from time
to time; Treesa was always the same, and always there. At length there
came a dainty little woman, full of native pluck, who was born to rule,
and rule she did, to the limit of her jurisdiction. Though so far apart,
a kindred chord was struck between mistress and maid. The high spirit
that smouldered in these two never crossed; but with the smallest
tangible demonstration they were fast friends. The girl's horizon now
bordered a triune interest;--the church, the mistress, and the parlor
floor. Gaunt and spare, she trod her beat. Shy of manner, with eyes
looking nowhere, she seemed a human machine of the broom. A woman
without