--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - O’Brien, John Garrett collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 27 number: 10 published: 1924-08 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "John Garrett O’Brien, “Madam’s Motto,” *Improvement Era 27, no. 10 (August 1924)*: 949–953." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera27010unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera27010unse start_page: 949 end_page: 953 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1924-08) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera27010unse publication_year: 1924 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1924, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Madam’s Motto MADAM'S MOTTO By John Garrett O'Brien Betty felt nervous and distracted. Her parents had succumbed to pneumonia when she was fourteen, leaving very little besides a sweet memory that she cherished. Then a rich aunt in New York had offered her a home and a brilliant future, if she would consider the stage as a career, but Betty had refused, choosing to work in a garment factory. This she had done for a year. But a strike had been called, lasting for three weeks without any sign of settlement, and her money had nearly gone, although she had never been extravagant. It almost looked as if she would have to accept her aunt's offer, as she was unable to find other work. Suddenly she smiled, remembering her best friend in Stilsboro, a Madam Gibson, who had a nice little bonnet shop. So she fluffed out her hair to a brighter radiance, put on her one best suit, and went to see her. "Poor child!" cried her friend, smiling at a chic little hat she held in her delicate, blue-veined hands, before laying it aside. "You must stay to supper. My assistant has left me, so I'll be busy for a little. But," she added impressively, "don't be in a hurry — let us talk it over, at least. You see, your mother put you in the holy place of her heart, Betty, and stage life would seem to be like stabbing her in the back." Betty sat listening at times; at others, watching her waiting on patrons. Then she helped her to arrange the table, and prepare a simple meal, after which they drew the blinds and sat by a steaming radiator for a little before talking. But Betty listened to every word, as Madam had frequently visited the factory at noon hours, and she belonged to her big Bible class. "I can speak from experience about the stage," she said presently, "as I sang with my husband for two years. But I quickly tired of it, and opened my bonnet shop. Then I tried to persuade him to find some other calling, but the life had too great a hold on him. He died five years ago." Betty took a deep breath; also the shapely hand near hers, for her friend sighed deeply. "There," she soothed, "don't tell me any more unless you wish." But her hostess smilingly continued, "it seems but yesterday that I kissed his cold lips, and cried myself to sleep. He was a good man; but not a Christian. Betty, you have a hard problem to face, because your aunt is persistent. But stage life has too many temptations — the applause, glamor, and general environ- 950 IMPROVEMENT ERA mcnt are too alluring for real peace of mind — they sear the conscience in time. "I wouldn't have much rest if I thought you were an actress. I knew your mother, and I love my girls too well to let one of them become an actress without remonstrating!" Here she paused, heavy- eyed, her lips trembling — a hot tear splashing on Betty's hand who wound her young arms about her neck. "I'm very silly," she murmured, "very silly!" said Betty. "You are not, you have a kind heart!" Then she sat silently watching her, her heart flooding with protective pity, for the woman was hardly thirty, though she was slightly gray. Her face was patrician, eyes large and gray like gray seas, her lips were sensitive though exquisitely formed, and her figure slim and symmetrical. . "I wonder what those little specks in each eye mean?" she mused, speculatively, feeling happy as she gazed at her calm expression. Then she forgot her own misery, for a yearning to befriend her surged into her mind, till her heart was filled with a longing to be of service. "I wish she would let me work for her!" she speculated*. And as if divining her thoughts, Madam took her to see a cozy little bed- room adjoining her's. "Betty, I'll be delighted to have you," she said slowly, "but I can only afford to pay you ten dollars a week with room and your meals." Betty hugged her arm. "Oh, Madam, may I really live with you — really?" Then, when her hostess smiled assent, "Why not give me less, — say seven? The most I ever made at the factory was twelve, and I had to pay for everything." "Ten, my dear, and fifteen, when you learn to trim hats!" insisted her smiling companion. "But," sweetly serious, "are you sure you won't be lonely? I seldom go anywhere except to meeting, and you and Diana will be my only companions." Diana, a lovely Persian cat, tabby, and with long fur rubbed against their skirts at that moment, purring joyously. "Oh, Madam, I want no one else!" she jubilated, receiving such a hearty welcome that she moved her few possessions into her room next day. And then it was that she began to learn the mysteries of how to trim hats, and wait on customers, listening to everything that Madam had to say; and even offering suggestions before many months as she had a sense of her own about colors harmonizing, and originality of designs. Betty took a delight in her work, tried to remember names and faces, and imitated Madam in courteously inviting patrons to call again, even if they did not buy the first time. The Easter rush had a charm of its own. She liked the long hours as it seemed like a fairyland of enchantment waiting on the fashionably gowned ladies MADAM'S MOTTO 951 that called; though she liked the girls better, as they were easier to please. Alas! it was over far too soon to suit her, and now came the long summer months when business was more or less dull. But always was there some new design, some dainty model, some attractive shape to keep the cash register tinkling. And the evenings were ideal to Betty, for Madame read the Bible, and told little mind stories that cheered her wonderfully, and helped her to forget that her aunt had disowned her. A glorious September followed a torrid August. But Betty was feeling uneasy, for Madam's eyesight seemed to be failing. She always had used glasses to read, and now she wore them in the shop. Then, too, she often asked about various colors, blue and green in particular, telling the girl one evening that she had a cataract on each eye. "Oh, you poor dear!" cried Betty, deciding to be eyes and ears for her in the future, and working harder than before to learn all she could. Often did Madam try to stop her, but the girl only laughed back, reminding her that she might have been an actress but for her; whereas, now she was learning a business that had a limitless future. The kindly woman had also raised her salary to fifteen dollars a week though really not able to afford it. Betty had remonstrated, but without avail, as she could see by the books that her business was not as good as the previous year. So she had placed a reserve of one hundred and thirty dollars aside by the end of October, which came in useful, as Madam needed nearly that amount to pay cash for her Christmas goods. "I'll pay you back," she said graciously, thanking her for lend- ing it. "Indeed you will not!" cried Betty. "I have saved sixty besides, and I really owe it to you for having taught me so much instead of keeping me in the work-room." But her employer only smiled in her friendly way, before entering it as a loan in the books, plead as the girl would. Alone one evening, Madam having gone to a meeting without her as she had a headache, Betty decided to write to her aunt to ask her to lend her money so that her friend could nave the cataracts removed by a specialist. The pen seemed like a live thing in her fingers, as she explained how dear she was, how kindly — how the girls in her class loved her — what a pity it would be if she lost her eye- sight— and promising her to repay in full, if it took her years to do so. She ended with an appeal taken from the Bible that Madam had chosen as her life motto: "In as much as ye do it to one of these, ye do it unto me — " And this she mailed with a petition that it might be answered, trying to believe, though her aunt had only written to her once, ignoring the letter she sent every week, A week passed, a month; no reply although Betty wrote reg- 952 IMPROVEMENT ERA ularly, inserting a little plea in each letter as Madam was getting worse. How the Christmas rush passed, the girl never knew, but it did, and nearly all of the hats were sold. Then the New Year came, and with the tinkling chimes Betty caught a sudden inspiration. She would go to New York to see her aunt — she must — it seemed as if some great power were sending her. So she prayed about it, and was on the point of leaving when a tall man called, introduced himself as her aunt's lawyer, and after clearing his throat asked to see her in private. Betty smiled, although he looked stern, his jaw aggressive, his eyes like cold sapphires. "I have no secrets from Madam," she hastened to say before introducing them. And then sat listening as if in a trance when he stated that her aunt had died from a sudden accident; that she had bequeathed her three thousand a year for life, which would be paid bi-annually in advance; and the rest of her fortune, nearly a million, her house and property if she decided to become an actress within a year — otherwise it would go to the next of kin. Then he handed her a check for fifteen hundred dollars and his card, and told her that she would only have to acquaint him if she changed her mind, and he would see to the rest of it — Here he stopped, for Betty broke in abruptly, though gently. "Thanks, Sir, but I would not go on the stage for all the gold in America!" she said without a quiver, as. she faced him. "Life is too short to devote even part of it to amusing people. I want to try to help others." The prim legalist glanced at her pityingly, a slight frown creasing his forehead, as he added that she might change her mind in a year, and left after stating that Mrs. Rogers' funeral had already taken place, smiling for the first time, for Betty was crying. Madam, her arms extended, came to the girl's side, and, twined in each other's embrace, Betty felt her sorrow leaving, her heart warming as her friend whispered little soothing words of comfort. "Do you really mean that you have decided not to go on the stage?" she asked, searching her intently with her soul-filled gray eyes. "Of course! How can I when we read the Bible together? What is truth but enlightenment, dear?" Madam's caressing arms tightened as she kissed her lips for the first time, sending a glowing warmth to Betty's heart as she returned it. And then an extraordinary thing happened, for the bell rar.g and in came the legalist, Mrs. Rogers, the girl's aunt with him, and a man with one of the kindest faces that the girl had ever seen. "I received all your letters, Betty," she said quietly, loosening her fur coat, and advancing with outstretched hands. "Forgive me, but — " she gazed at her inquiringly — "but I wanted to see if there was anything to this Christianity that you write about!" MADAM'S MOTTO 953 As if in a dream Betty returned her kiss, found herself listening to a celebrated cataract specialist saying that he would soon restore Madam's eyesight, try as she would to expostulate, and presently the men left, so they were alone with each other — not a vestige of hauteur in Mrs. Rogers' expression — only smiles and kindliness as tbey sat chatting. "Oh, Aunt Agnes, you've made me very happy — very, very happy!" cried Betty, after seeing her to a hotel, as she handed her back the check. "Inasmuch!" she answered dreamily. "Keep it, child. You can use it to buy a partnership with Madam Gibson — she wishes to make you so without poyment — but I won't hear of such a thing — sche has meant more to you and me than all my money!" And Mrs. Rogers it was who vied with the nurses to halp to cheer the kindly patient when she was recovering after the operation. She never seemed tired of reading though the light was dim. And she it was who sent such a variety of bewilderingly lovely hats, shapes, plumes, and various material when she was able to attend to her Dusi- ness again, that Madam's gray eyes — now clear and bright — sparkled in happy wonderment at it all. Betty, her partner, often felt her heart too full to speak, for Madam was humming, the work-room full of efficient help — girls f:cm her Bible class whom she could pay good salaries without fearing where the rent was coming from; for business was on a constant in- crease— and Mrs. Rogers kept writing long, cheery letters that rang with joy of her newly found Truth. "Inasmuch — " she would answer when they wrote trying to expostulate every time she sent some package of wondrous creations. And before a year passed she came to live with them, having endowed a home for the blind where they could weave baskets and make flowers. Nor was she happy unless doing something unostentatiously for others. "Betty," she would whisper in a low, happy undertone, "our Madam has a grand motto — " And Betty, her heart singing, would bow her head. Chicago, III. Radio Waves It is jealousy to do and say a mean little thing in a mean little way. The person without a sense of humor should adopt a calling that does not bring him into contact with his fellow man. Friendship never yet authorized a person to say disagreeable things to his intimates. On the contrary the better acquainted you become with a person, the -more necessary is tact and courtesy. He who has found his work and is happy in it should ask for no other blessedness. San Diego, Cal. DOROTHY C. RETSLOFF