Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1870-03-16

tering sugar temples and pink champagne
and white hot house grapes that loaded the
long tables of the dining room.
I'm as much out of place here as moth
er's apples would be, he thought, as he
went sorrowfully to bid Frank good night.
But she was Waiting with Mr. Gustavus
st. Sandalle, and had only brief, chilling
nod for her cousin Elkaniah.
% 1t is no impugnement to Elkaniah Carey's
manhood to say that the tears were on his
bronzed cheek as he went slowly down the
street. He had looked forward to this visit
for months :; he had treasured up Frank
Payne in his heart as a sort of fair, faultless
angel and now the illusion was over.
So Elkaniah Carey went back to his New
England farm wiser and sadder man!
Two years went by; the big cherrytree by
the well, rained its white blossoms down in
to the crystal depths, and the gillihower ap-
pies hung like red jewels among orchard
bows, and Elkaniah Carey farm prospered
rarely. While, in the city, the great wheel
oe fortune, in its ceaseless revolutions, caught
Frank Payne from her place of luxury and
pleasure, and set her down an orphan and
poor at the very door of the social ladder.
Nobody could have foreseen the fall in
those railway shares" Mr.. Payne had said
with wild, haggard eyes; and that night the
appoplctic stroke that came hurried him out
of the world aud Frank was left at twenty,
all alone.
Tell me what to dc, Mrs ST Sandalle -
she appealed piteously, looking like some
lovely marble statue in her deep black
robes, as she threw herself down on the little
footstool at Mrs. St. Sandalles s patrician
feet
Don't be so theatrical Frank, " said Mrs.
St. Sandalle, taking up her gold stoppered
vinaigrette; land do not speak so loud
your voice gives me the headache. Do =?
Why, there are plenty of things to do, | sup
pose"
Frank lips quirered. How many times
Mrs. St. Sandalle had kissed her, carressed
her hands, and told her ''she loved her like
her own daughter and ''she couldn't ex-
least once day." Frank had somehow
thought that she could not be quite alone as
long as Mrs. ST. Sandalle was nsar her.
Yes, said Frank, but"
"Of course you can't expect to live on
charity, said Mrs. St. Sandalle, Indifferent
ly. Its great pity your education has
been so superficial; and you re too near
sighted to do fine embroidery, suppose.
But there is old Mrs. Scoldall wants com-
panion-fity dollars year and your board.
To be sure she's deaf and blind, and crosser
than Xantippe, but you can't have every
thing at once.
Frank tears dropped slowly down upon
the Grape folds of her dress.
''Do you think"
81 don't think anything about it, I'm
sure" said Mrs ST. Sandalle, pettishly. 81
can't take any responsibility. There Gus
tavus now; the opera matinee comes off at
one, and I'm sorry can t devote more time
to you.
Mrs. St. Sandalle swept down stairs in a
futter Of moire antique, and thread lace dra-
perry, while Frank crouchcd in the middle of
the great drawing room, more utterly desc
late and alone than if she had been in the
desert of Sahara.
So Frank PAYNE, the whilom belle of the
gay world of fashion, went to be old Mrs.
Scoldalrs companion, at fifty dollars per an
mum and her board.
For three dreary weeks she endured the
acrimonious old lady tongue and temper,
and ate the bitter bread of dependence, and
then came crisis !
"A headache T. screamed Mrs. Scoldall !;
miss Payne has got headache How
dare my companion presume to absent her
self from my table on that plea? l dom t
pay money for lazy hussies to lie in bed and
complain of headaches! Here's Miss Payne S
wages, Betsey, and you may tell her to take
herself off to morrow morning as early as
she pleases
Its shame, Miss" said sympathetic
Betsey, deluging Franks pretty curls with
the cologne she had purloined from the old
lady's dressing table. It's burnin'
shame, so it is
Never mind, Betsey," said Frank, sit
ting up in bed with bewildered air, and
pressing both hands to her throbbing tenn
pies. Il could not have erdured it any
longer; am glad to go away. | believe
have got money enough to take me into
the country, and-and-I think they'll be
kind to me there.
And as she lay back and shut her eyes the
fragrant old barn came back to her with
dusky lines of light slanting down from the
crevices between the boards, and odor Of
dried clover, with two figures sitting on the
foor-her's and one other. And she re-
menbered the river under the Hill, with
deep delicious pools, tangled with water,
lilies, and overshadowed with solemn beech
boughs.
IF there is no other alternative left tc
me, can at least die, said Frank, mentally
''Sure, Miss you ain t fit to travel, said
Betsey, the next morning, as she straighten
ed the folds of the heavy Grape veil, and
tried to brush the dust off the mourning
dress, whose shabbiness too plainly b-token-
ed the poyerty of its young wearer our