The Sweetwater enterprise. (Sweetwater, Tenn.) 1869-187?, 1870-02-03
THE FAIR MENDICANT.
An English Story.


Paul Ventnor was curate of Bladesburg
with wisdom in his head, with tenderness
in his heart, but with precious little mon
ey in his pocket.
One June morning, as he was coming
round the porter's lodge of Foley hall, he
heard a sweet, plaintive voice say
'For the love of God help me I am
starvingp'
He raised his head quite startled out of
his equanimity. On the steps sat a young
woman. Her cheeks were tear-stained,
and her head and shoulders were envel-
Cpd in shawl. That she was suffering
was evident, yet she wore neither the air
nor the dress of an ordinary mendicant.
He stopped and regarded her for a mo-
ment, and then dropped coin into her
outstretched palm. She did not close her
hand; she did not look up to see if he
was young or old, or down at the coin to
note its value.
"Thank you," she murmured, never
raising the dark eye-lashes from the wet
cheeks.
81 can keep body and soul little lon
ger together with that. And then? Why,
| can beg again, even if it kills me. Oh,
kind sir, it is work l want, steady, daily
work, ill-paid though it be. Anything,
rather than to beg"
Thoughtfully the young curate stood,
with one hand holding his hat and the
other in his pocket. Then his eyes fell
upon the full, white, finely rounded arm
next upon the sweet, sad, oval face.
"You seem to be stranger here :" he
said.
81 am; I walked over from Shade
stone"
"Walkedl Not in day %
"No-nor in ten of them, sir. I work.
ed little here, and begged little there,
and starved between the times" replied
the woman, adding to the voice that was
so sweet and low, little hysterical laugh
that made him shudder.
"Where are you going :" he asked.
"Where, do not know, sir. Anywhere.
| wouldn't be made to do it, and SO l ran
away. Mo- would have died first"
She said that with vehemence; it was
not clear what she meant, but she seemed
so much lady, and Paul was invariably
50 polite that he refrained from asking an
explanation.
"What kind of employment do you
seek :" was the next question.
Something for willing hands and heart
to do, sir. Teaching would suit me best,
but it is not for me to state my prefer
ences." md
During all this time she had not raised
her eyes, to his face. Was it from humil-
ity or shame? He was not one easily de-
ceived, only he wanted fair scrutiny of
her face and eyes.
81 am the curate Of Bladesburg," he
said. "My name is Paul Ventnor. This
is the lodge at Foley Hall. If you will
enter it with ne, will get you a tempo
rary home at least. Come"
She arose to her feet; then elevating
her head, she fixed her eyes upon him.
They were such trusting, brown eyes, that
they set his nerves tingling. As they be-
held his own they were deepened in in
tensity, and more and more of the child
ish sweetness came into her face. The
curate felt that he could trust her, but he
also felt somewhat embarrassed, which
made him feel vexed at himself.
"You have not yet told me your name,"
he said. -
"No, l have not" she replied, the color
in her cheeks deepening. Then with the
least perceptible hesitancy she said, "my
name is Grace Templeton."
Paul Ventnor thought it was very
pretty name, but did not say SO. He seiz-
ed the knocker at the door and gave q vig-
orous peal. A servant answered it, and
the two soon stood in the presence of the
lady Of Foley Hall. She esteemed the
young curate very highly, and placed a
proper appreciation on his character and
talents. A word from him in behalf of
Grace would have been sufficient, had she
not been possessed of any personal or mental