The weekly union record., 1865-11-04

street, discharged from the hospital
where the kindness Of her neighbors had
sent her, for the poor cannot give time
to help each other, for time is their only
capital. She crept back to what had
been her home. All she possessed had
been sold by the landlord for the rent,
and the neighbors, beyond first ex-
preston Of surprise, seemed little inter
ested in her return. None asked her
what she was going to do, none offered
her an asylum all had their own preoc-
equations and sorrows, all had struggled
with life, and had but slender pity for
her lot.
1t was chill, drizzly Winter night,
when Mareehne, feeling that she had
out-stayed her welcome, crept from the
room Of the neighbor who had told her
what had become of her poor belongings.
Mechanically she walked along, but her
strength was exhausted, and breathless,
with a strange futtering at the heart,
she leaned ur against the stone pillar
of a grand house, memorial of past
grandeur in the Rue de Ia Seine.
She gazed up at the sky. There
seemed no consolation even there, for it
was dull and leaden looking. The
streets were deserted, the lamps burned
dimly, and the penetrating rain fell
with a quick, pattering sound into the
dark cutters. Marceline could not
weep; she scarcely suffered; a dim
feeling of despair was creeping over her,
and the first distinct idea that made its
way through this mental chaos was a
thought of the deep waters Of the Seine,
the Morgue and oblivion.
She was on the verge of that stage of
madness induced by mental agony,
added to physical privation, which leads
to insanity; and with a deep sigh of
relief, as if already the sacrifice had
been accomplished, she began to move
on, going to where the waters were
flowing on relentlessly over many des-
perate hearts, which, century after
century, had there sought their refuge.
But her step is tottering, and her
head swims. She can go on but a few
steps, and then she is forced to lean
against lamp post; but her strength
fails her, and before she can reach its
support, she falls, not to the ground,
but Oh an arm, which is stretched forth
to save her.
Poor girl, are YOU i'll % said IA
kindly voice, in accents of refinement
and gentlcness. Marceline could not
reply, but she tried to smile and open
her eyes, but in that effort, with smile
still on her lips, she tainted.
When she recovered, the genial at
moSphere around her seemed first to
revive her; then there came over her a
sense of security, of escape from a
great temptation, and a great danger,
and she burst into tears.
do not weep now," said the same
kindly voice she had heard before ; ''all
cause for weeping is past
Marceline sobbed little longer !;
then drying up her tears, she looked up.
\ young man was beside her on the
sofa on which she was lying. She did
not think to note that he was young and
handsome, so thoroughly charmed was
she by the kindness that beamed in
every feature.
"You are safe, my child, not only for
to-day, but for all future. All | ask
now Of you is to know whether any are
waiting and watching for you at home"
Il have no home; | have no friends;
I have none on earth who care for me-"
Then look toward the future with
security and JOY, for YOU have found q
friend and home. This apartment is
mine. but | will leave it to you; and
now here is refreshment then sleep till
morning, sleep in security and peace"
Let me tell you how it was that you
found me as YOU did. My story is not
a long one, but it is best you should
know whom you succored, and from
what despair You saved me-
Narceline told her simple story, one
replete with horror to her, but to which
his listener lent little attention, pre-
occupied as he was by the beauty of the
face that was turned toward him.