The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1852-03-03

ing compelled her still to pursue her daily
course OF labour, and she pursued il with the
same constancy and punctuality as she had
ever done. But the exquisitely chiseiled face,
Ine majestic gait, the elastic step-the beauty
| anu glory OF youth, mistaken because unas-
saulted by death and sorrow-where were
!hey Alas! all the bewitching charms of
her former being had gone down into the grave
OF her mother and sister; and she, their support
and idol, seemed no more now than she really
was-a wnyworn. soltory, and isolated strug-
| gler for daily bread.
Were this fiction that am writing, II would
| De an easy matter TO deal out measure OF
poetical justice, and to recompense poor Ellen
tor all her industry, self.denial, and suffering
| IN the arms of husband, who should possess
as many and great virtues as herself, and an
ample fortune TO boot. wish with all my
heart that II were a fiction, and that Providence
mad never furnished me with such seeming
anomaly TO add to the list of my desultory
chronicles. But am telling a true slcry of
life. Ellen found no mate. No mate, did
say! Yes one the same grim yoke-fellow
whose delight il is ito gather roses in the
| spring paid CHASTITY court TO her faded charms,
and won her-who shall say an unwilling
| bride! could see bis gradual but deadly ad-
vances in my daily walks: the same indica-
| tons that gave warning of the sisters fate ad-
| monshed me that she also was on her way TO
the tomb, and that the place that had knwn her
| would soon know her no more. She grew day
by day more feeble; and one morning | found
her seated on the step of door, unable to pro.
ceed. After that she disappeared fsm my
| view; and though never saw her again at the
Old spot, have seldom passed that spot since,
though many years following the same route,
without recognising again in my minds eye
| nj form md sDfL
| D..
'And is this the end of your mournful his
tory Z some querulous reader demands. Not
| quite There is a soul of good in things evil.
Compassion dwells with the depths Of misery
and in the valley of the shadow of death dove
eyed Charity walks with shining wings.
II was nearly two months after had lost sight
OF poor Ellen, that during one of my dinner
hour perambulations about town, looked in
almost accidentally upon my old friend and
chum, Jack W. Jack keeps a perfumer's
shop not hundred miles from Gray's Inn,
where, ensconced up to his eyes in delicate
odours, he passes his leisure hours-the hours
when commerce flags, and people have more
pressing affairs to attend to than the delecta-
ton OF their nostrils-n the enthusiastic study
OF art and rirtu. His shop is hardly more
crammed with bottles and altar, soap, scents,
and all the etceter0S of the toilet, than the rest
OF his house with prints, pictures, carvings,
and curiosities of every SORT Jack and
| went TO school together, and sowed our slen-
der crop of wild oats together; and, indeed, in
some sort have been together ever since. We
both have our own collections of rarities, such
as they are, and each crticises the others new
purchases. On the present occasion there was
a new Van Somebody's old painting awaiting
| my Judgment; and no sooner did my shadow
darken his door, than starting from his lair,
and bidding the boy ring the bell should he be
wanted, he hustled me up stairs, calling by
the way to his hOusekeeper, Mrs. Jones-Jack k
is bachelor-to bring up coffee for two.
was prepared to pronounce my dictum on his
newly acquired treasure. and was going to
bounce unceremoniously into the old lumber
room over the lobby to regale my sight with
| the delightful confusion of his unarranged ac-
cumulations, when he pulled me forcibly back
by the coat-tail. Not there said Jack; you
| can't go there. Go into my snuggery.'
'And why not thereP said 1; jealous OF
some new purchase which was not to see.
Because there's somebody i'll there-it is
bedroom now: poor girl; she wanted a
| place TO die in, poor thing, and l pnt her in
| there
who is she "a relatiseF
mo; never saw her till Monday last. Sit
down, I'll tell you how it was. Set down the
| coffee, Mrs. Jones, ard just look in upon the
| patient, will you? Sugar and cream? You
know my weakness for the dead wall in Lin
coins Inn Fields Jack never refuses beg
gar backed by that wall, for the love of Ben
Johnson, who, he devoutly believes, had a
hand in building it) well, Imet with her
| there on Monday last. She asked for nothing,
but held out her hand, and as she did so the
tears steamed from her eyes on the pavement.
The poor creature, il was plain enough, was
then dying; aud told her so. She said she
knew it, but had no place to die in but the
parish workhouse, and hoped that would not
send her there. What's the use of talking ?
| brought her here, and put her to sleep on the
sofa while Jones cleared out the lumber-room
and got up bed. l sent for DIR. H to
look at her; he gave her week or ten days at
the farthest don't think she'll last so long
The curate of ST comes every day to see
her, and like to talk to her myself sometimes.
/ Well Mrs. Jones, how goes she on :!
She's asleep said the housekeeper. would
you like to look at her, gentlemen
We entered the room together. 1t was as if
| some unaccouatabe presentiment had fore
warned me there, upon snow-white sheet,
| and pillowed by my friends favourite elder
down SQUAD, lay the wasted form of Ellen
| D.. She slept soundly and breathed loud
| ly; and DIR. H, who entered while we
| stood at the bedside, informed US that in all
| probability she would awake only to die, or if
Ito sleep again, then TO wake no more. The
latter was the true prophecy. She awoke an
hour or two after my departure, and passed
away that same night in quiet slumber with
| out pang.
never learned by what chain of circum-
| stances she was driven to seek aims in the pub
| lie streets. might have done SO perhaps by
| inquiry, but to what purpose She died in
| peace, with friendly hands and friendly hearts
| near her, and Jack buried her in his own grave
in Highgate Cemetery, at his own expense;
and declares he is none the worse for it. am
of his opinion.
ArsI '