Memphis daily appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1847-1886, 1870-07-10
The Lady in Black.

- III u A1AAAS - AAlAN
andsomething less than middle-aged.
It is needfuII should say just so much
about myself, and that / live in a
pleasant suburb, Shirfeld ESQ called
fromits being built on what was for
merly Sir George Shirfield's estate),
on the outskirts of the town of Dock
hamtOn.
Coming home in the last bus on a
very rainy night of January, 1853, l
was the only inside passenger, with
the exception of a lady in black. it
was a fine steaming rain, like the
evening of a washing day-yery OPP
pressive, warmly moist and misera-
BILE; and two Of the bus windows
were left open to admit the air, such
as it was. At all events, there being
no wind, the foggy moisture which
came in appeared to me a shade
fresher than the sour e~xhalations
from the damp straw at the bottom
Eof the bus. Concluding, however,
from repeated coughs of the lady in
black that the draught was objection
able to her, / offered to close the win
dows. She gratefully assented III a
feeble Voice, explaining that a dread
tul cold had settled on her lungs.
There was no light in the bus, but as
we rumbled past Struggling lamps the
mOmentary CLEANS which lit up the
darkness just enabled me to distin-
guish, in spite of her thick veil, that
the lady was old enough at least to be
my mother, and that her face bore
marked traces of suffering. With lit
tie ~reticence, therefore, especially as
mo hnA fhraa r,sIZn -, 4~nrro1 oil
dressed to her some commonplace
about the weather and the locality to
which we were going. She replied
only in monosyllables; but L was
presently aware, from a low fluttering
sound proceeding from her corner,
that nay companion was sobbing.
81 am going hOme," she said,
"where no home is left; and why |
go there, except TO find a corner to die
in, / cannot tell. Could you inform
me if there is"-she paused and sob
bed-"a work house in Shirfield?"
l told her no; that we were in the
comfy rate, and the wOrkhouse in
connection with our district would be
StOnehurst union.
She was very respectfully dressed, as
wen as l could see from the occasional
glimmers of light which broke in;
and l ventured to hope she vas tax
ing too gloomy a view Of her posi-
ton. This led to longer conversation;
so that before the journey was finished
l had gradually elected her very pain
ful story, which was something like
this:
Her maiden name, it seemed, was
Adela Shirfield, only child of Sir
George Shirfeld, whose estate, near
forty years ago, had been staked in
the betting ring and lost. Sir George,
utterly ruined, chose suicide in prefer
ence to beggary. But his daughter,
having a splendid contralto voice,
came to London, and, after many dis
appointments, succeeded in achieving
a great success as an opera singer, I'M
der a feigned name. Previous to this,
however, she had married a man who
speculated on her voice turning out
a fortune, and who no sooner found
his anticipation realized than he
began to lead an idle, d~issipated life,
s~quandering at the gaming table his
wife's earnings to such a reckless eX.
tent that, notwithstanding their large
income, she and her husband lived a
life of perpetual debt and difficulty.
Il-usage and blows were the wife's
frequent portion, until at last she OBJ
tanned a judicial separation from her
husband. Then her voice began to
g0-rest and travel utterly failed to
restore its quality. She was relegated
to concert singing, and thence to the
music hall, where for some years she
had lived on a past reputation, being
retained merely on s~ufterance. Final
Iy, there came time when the kind
g. manager could no longer keep her.
pnfkness exhausted her last small
yegings; and now, a woman of nearly |
Hty, she had that day spent her last
If sovereign in a third-class ticket
Rbring her 10 the place where she
IS born, that, if possible, she might
there.
story certainly excited my pity,
IL more so for feeling how cruel a
ssgpSht the daylight had in store for her
residences and suburban streets
n lering every bit of the old estate,
anyl not a vistage of her old home left,
oefc a soul to know her. / should have
i1Ired a trife of money, but feared to
e Otfense, for it was plain to me that
was a lady.
When the bus stopped at the Sir
Orge's Arms, / offered her my hand
assist her to alight. 1t was we'll |
Ind so, for she tainted on the step.
Psith the help of the landlord, we
Eried her into the inn and gave her
Andy. On recovering a little, she
Tfned with reluctance it was weak
i ss-that she had tasted no food that
NY. l therefore ordered her some
Tei, slipped a small piece of gold into
ir hand, and, without waiting for
walked to my home.
EE9Had l then mentioned to my wife
cot what l have written down, it
ds9uld have saved me agOod deal both
toimoney and annoyance. But finding
wbnds at home, pleasant converse
soon drove an adventure so ordi-
Try as the assistance of a person in
Rtress quite out of my head, and
= next day it scarcely seemed worth
SE telling.
A week afterward l received a
Rte in a mans handwriting, stating
It ga gentleman" wished to see me
. the Sir Georges Arms. On going
Fetre, l was shown into a private
with something like q sup
sSed litter on the part of the land
IND, and there l saw--the lady in
She admitted having written
Me letter, and disguised her hand
justifying her conduct on the
aa3aound that my wife might other
as Sc suspect me of carrying on an in
nngue. The idea was certainly ride
10 n fOr in nAAffian 49,
lot y hairs, her features were any
s15eesng but w~ell-favored, to say nothing
great scar-marks across her
pSrahead-witneSSes, she said, to her
Expands brutality. Her object, it
alleeared, in desiring to see me was
gsinnttely to convey her thanks for what
the called my very great kindness,
did / know of a situation as
lOusekeeper, or any position of trust
which she could undertake?
/ did not.
''You evidently mistrust my story"
he went on. "If 1 were an impOs-
or, l should be ready enough with
proofs of my identity; L have moth
ny, as il is, but two old torn letters
rom my father, written to ME when :
! schoolgirl" These she produced, |
yery yellow and worn. They did not
0ok like forgeries q had formerly
cen specimens of Sir George Shir-
ield's handwriting), but 1 regarded
hem with some suspicion after the
tote she had sent me. There was a
PIANO in the room. / remarked that,
With her musical abilities, there could
)e no doubt she could play. She i'm
nediately seated herself at the piano,
md, having played a great part of
he overture to "Anna Bolena,' mag .
Efficiently, began the accompaniment
the lutte song, when, after making
me effort to sing it, she broke out
and closed the instrument.
rx1s1l r-,z 49, IUL