The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1870-09-29
GOING HOME.
CONTINUED.

$AAAooSS S~SAN~ oAAS
very long"
''You are decidedly out of your mind,
Constance" said Mr.. Powers, when he
saw she was determined; ''going off this
time of night to listen to the rhapsodies
of dying woman"
(Which is the most mad," she retors-
ed, flushing wasting Gods holy time
in frivolous amusements, or soothing
the last hours of the souls for who He
died?"
MIR. Powers shrugged his shoulders.
"As you please" he cried, "but in
sist on your taking one of the men with
you as well. will send away the car
riage; you had better have cab."
After trayersing number of dark and
dirty streets the cab drew up before O
dingy-looking house in narrow, dirty
street, running parallel with the river,
on the South side of the Thames; and a
man, descending from the box, assisted
yelled and muffled figure to alight.
''Wait for me here" said Constance
in whisper to her maid; ''there is no
occasion for you to come inside"
"But master said, Miss -"
fI am your Mistress" replied Con
stance haughtily; ''do as you are told"
The girl shrunk back; to tell the truth,
she was quite as ready to stop as to 60,
far prefering chat with the footman to
witnessing the death struggles of the
poor; she saw plenty of that when Miss
alleys and wretched streets to be found
even in Belgrave.
The old man-Parker he said his name
was; opend the door by means of a
string pulled through hole. No need
of bolts and bars there, except to keep
the thieves inside when justice demand
ed them.
mind the step, my lady," he said.
"It's not often the likes of you come to
such place as this
''I'm not afraid" said Constance,
gently, yet as she spoke she trembled,
and her heart sank ut the impenetrable
darkness before her.
The noise they made had evidently
been heard, for q door opened and
woman came cautiously down the stairs,
carrying candle in broken candle
stick.
sis that you, Jim?" sho called in q
loud whisper.
.'Ah, my gal; and I've brought the
lady with me-"
''That's right" cried tho woman.
And Constance found herself face to
face with poorly dressed, motherly-
looking woman.
'How is she?" was her first question.
Every badly, Miss; very badly. She's
been and dropped into dose; but they
say she can't last till morn. She's been
asking for you, Miss, all night long"
Up two flights of creaking, rickety
stairs, and then they stopped at door
in tho back part of the house, which the
woman opened, and, holding the light
above her head, suffered Constance to
thrown over m old clothes.horse served
whistled through tho crannies Of the
door from reaching the bed, on which
lay tho pallid form Of tho dying woman,
breathing heavily. Tho tears rolled
down Constances fair cheeks as she
gazed on the altered features, thin,
wasted figure of one who, when she last
beheld her, was radiant with youth and
health. Large drops of perspiration
stood OH her forehead; her nose was
drawn and pinched, her eyes sunken,
her lips livid and swollen with fever
her hair lay in n tangled mass around
her haggard face, over which was gradu-
ally creeping that mysterious ashen
gray-thc bridal veil Of death.
''Sho has suffered deal, poor dear,"
said the woman in a low tone; sit will
be blessing when the Lord is pleased
to take her. Will You sit down, Miss?'
She wiped chnir for the visitor, and
then, leaving the candle on tho table
near, stole quietly out of the room.
Constance looked around and shuddcr-
ed. Bare boards, broken table, two
moro broken chairs, some wooden boxes
piled in corner to form o cupboard,
rusty fender, and row Of saucepans,
Jugs and physic bottles were all the
furniture Of this miserable abode.
Across the room, on line composed of
pieces OF rope knottcd together, hung
some indescribable articles of human
clothing. (Theso is no fashion book for
the poor.) And in the midst OF all this
squolor and poverty three pots of white
and pnrple hyacinths stood on the
marble window-sill, filling the air Will,
delicious fragrance.
AS she looked she thought how from
the simple hearts of those poor people
rose up daily, like tho incense of flowers,
the sweet perfume of n noble. self-deny-
ing charity, whiteness of truth and the
purple of sacrificc to the feet of tha