Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1870-02-23
NO. 49,.

she would have taken for "a house-maid,
sat side by side equally mute and notion
less. The ten little girls, all of a size,
were as faultless. Her chair and be OK
were ready. She took possession of them,
and looked with amazement at the studious
youths working away under the super
vision OF Professor Guise; for she knew
his title as well as his name by this time
Little as he was, fat as he was, absurd as
was his costume, it was plain that every
one there respected him-Belle respected
him also, As the time went on she liked
him more and more.
He knew so much. Her boarding-school
accomplishments faded into insignificance
when compared with those solid acquire
ments; and when one day he told her of
certain ordeal he had passed through. of
a scheme by which he had hoped to make
his fortune turning out u failure and ruin
ing him-of money that must be saved
and serappd together, and of an old worn
out, hopeless feeling which will come to
young people whose schemes prove to be
illusions, and who struggle in vain for
some ignis fatuus which in the end eludes
them. Belle had not struggled much, but
she knew the feeling for she had some
hopes OF being an authOress, and had Of
iered sundry poems to the press, and had
them handed back with that profound con
tempt with which long g-suflering editors
decline such favors She had gone home
with heart like lump of lead, and ach-
ing feet and eyes burning because they
would not weep; to tear the manuscript
savagely, and wonder how long the alpaca
would last decently, and to look in the
glass, expecting almost TO see grey hairs
and wrinkles. When the professor said,
do you know when it was all over |
felt eighty years od?n she quite UNDER
stood him. They were better friends than
ever from that moment.
And what friend he was! He managed
that she should have all the pleasures
and rs few of the hardships of her lot as
possible. He contrived that she should
board constantly with the clergyman's
family. He told the head boy to see that
she came in a wagon on wet days, and
that youth continued it. He borrowed
papers and journals for her-sometimes
books. lie took her to the lectures at the
Lyceum. He was the only man of cul-
ture except the clergyman in the place.
/ The only person who felt as she felt on
most subjects. Soon to have heard that
he was about to leave would have been to
hear evil tidings. He, and he alone, made
!
much two poor people, who agree with
each other in sentiment, can help along
upon the road to happiness.
No gallant exquisite with bouquet
worth a small fortune, and invitations to
private box on some Ristori or Jenny
Lind mad night, could have been more
acceptable to city belle than the fat doctor
with his thumbed volume under his arm,
and his ticket for the Lyceum lecture, was
to our heroine, on many Il Wednesday
night; and when coming home, leaning
on his left arm, that right hand so plump
and firm and white somehow dropped on
hers and held it. Belle liked it. 1t made
her feel safer.
So, in the commonplace desert of drudg-
ing life, there lay bright oasis or two,
and Belle laughed as much as ever. She
drew caricatures ofthe white headed boys,
and the Professor laughed at them. She
sketched "the committee" on examination
day. She wrote eomical doggerel in cell
bratlon of absurd scenes There was no
one to appreciate her fun but the Profess
Or but his kindly smile was always
ready, She learned to look for it rs q
necessity OF her life.
SO the year passed. a second term-a
third. Then one bright day a letter was
dropped into the midst of all the homely
plans, and exploded them like bomb
shell. A square, red sealed letter from
Messrs. Tape & Parchment, lawyers. 1t
told her that her aunt was dead, also that
the serious waiting-maid had been serious
in vain, for she had left this world before
her mistress. Belle Bruce was the only
living heiress of the old spinster She
was, or would be, all legal forms complet-
ed, worth halt a million.
1t was necessary that she should leave
Lemon for the scene of action at once,
and she wondered that she was not hap
pier at the thought. Tears would come as
! she packed her little wardrobe, as she
gathered together the Professors humble
gifts, worthless in money value, but SO
precious for the kindly feeling which was
the motive of their giving,
''He will be rs kind to the next teach
er, and forget me- she said, and her
tears fell
1t was Saturday afternoon, and she sat
at table in the clergyman's parlor look
ing over these books, when the Professor
came in. He sat down also. Something
was plainly on his mind. He sighed, was
silent, and moodily looked over the books.
At last he took one up.
Victor Hugo" he said. ''Do you like
him?"
Il do. There is a genuine pathos--n
Great Heaven."
He stopped with those words on his lips,
an ashen pallor overspread his cheek.
He was staring at the fly-leat of the
volume
Belle looked at him. Her cheek paled
also. A remembrance fell upon her. She
went softly behind Professor Guise, and
saw on what his eyes were fixed. He was
looking at the caricature she had drawn
of him in that first hour when he was only
an absurdly dressed fat man to her--a
carieature she would not have drawn now
for the wide worlds wealth. What should
she do? What could she sayP There
was the name. G.. Guise, on the valise.
She could not deny. He knew she had
drawn it. She stood like a statue.
But in moment she saw the great
head bowed, the beautiful eyes hidden,
and she heard a sob--another and another.
Then she found voice.
What shall do-what shall do? Oh
look at me- listen TO me! Dear friend |