w where she
was until you wanted her, when she would seem to rise out of the earth to
your side. But, in spite of your intense gratitude at the moment, you
really found yourself taking her as a matter of course. She was one of
those who are fully appreciated only when they are dead, and who then call
forth the bitterest remorse that we have not made them know in life how
dear they were and how painfully necessary to our happiness.

It is rather a sad commentary upon those same girls, who accepted Nellie's
assistance most readily, to record that, when they were launched into
society and were deep in the mysteries of full-fledged young-ladyhood,
little Nellie Maddox was seldom invited to their most fashionable
gatherings, but came in, at first, before their memory grew too rusty,
for the simpler luncheons and teas.

This is not a history of intentional or systematic neglect, but a mere
statement of the way things drifted along. Not one of the girls would
wilfully have omitted her, if she had been in the habit of being asked;
but it was easy to let her name slip when all the rest did it, and so
gradually it came to pass that we seldom saw her. Then she married Frank
Mayo, who would not be offended if he heard a newsboy refer to him as "a
gent," or a maid-servant describe him as "a pretty man." Of such a one it
is scarcely necessary to add that he was selfish, inordinately conceited,
and, to complete the description, a trifle vulgar. He never suspected his
wife's cleverness nor appreciated her worship. It almost made me doubt her
cleverness to see how she idolized him, but this instance went far towards
proving that love, with some women, is entirely an affair of the heart. It
irritates Rachel to hear any one say so. She says it argues ignorance of a
nice distinction in terms, and that when the brain is not concerned it
should be called by a baser name.

I doubt if she could have brought herself to say so if she had been
looking into Nellie Mayo's blue eyes, which looked tired and a little less
blue than as I remembered them. They had pathetic purple shadows under
them, which told of sleepless nights with the babies, and there were fine
lines around her mouth; but her light-brown hair was as smooth and her
dress as plain and neat as ever.

It was like watching a nest of birds. I felt my own love expand to see the
wealth of affection Nellie had for her precious family. Her unselfish zeal
never flagged. She flitted from on