Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1873-11-07
NO. 265.
LOST.
lcoNTrNUED FROM YESTERDAY.

|
the edge of the evening, one cold rainy
night, and could not refuse to give her
shelter, at least for the night, or till she
could do better. I did not think of her
remaining; but she is SO pretty and gen.
tie and innocent-looking, could not turn
her out of my house-could /, now ]
know | am silly in such ways; but what
could l do ?'
"But is it possible" l said, "that she
has remained here ever since, and you
know nothing more about her?' 1e.
"No more than you do yourself, gener-
al said Mrs Honeywell. II do not even
know where she lived before she came
here. can not question her, and now,
indeed, have become SO fond of her
should not be willing to part with her; and
| would not turn her and her little ones
out of my house for the world''
Farther conversation elected the fact
that she was not a boarder, but that she
and her little ones were the dependents
upon Mrs. Honeywold's charity. but
don't call it charity" said the kind little
woman. II am sure she more than earns
her living, poor thing, by what she does
about the house. Why, shouldn't know
how to do without her :"
What these important services might be
which were accepted as equivalent to the
board Of three did not feel justified in
asking; but l am sure it was no seryile la
Dor she performed, and no menial station
she heidi for, though sometimes met her
coming out of the chambers. or saw her
going down the basement stairs, herdress
was always the perfection Of neatness.
and in perfect order, while my good land
lady herself, though always clean and re-
nt
man to look lttle-,ust little heated.
and tumbled, and en- deshdbiRe.
But why do | linger over the trifling de-
tails Only, believe, because l have
natural shrinking from reaching the trag-
ical denouement Of my story. But ii must
be reached, and it is useless to loiter thus
on the way.
| One fine summer day had made an ap-
pointment with a friend to drive out to his
place in the environs of the city and dine
with him, returning in the evening. When
| came down in the afternoon, dressed for
my excursion. l went into the diningroom
to tell Mrs. Honeywell she need not wait
tea for me. AS came back through the
parlor she was there alone. She was sit
ing on the sofa. A book lay near her, but
do not think she had been reading. She
was sitting perfectly still, as ii lost in rev.
erie. and her eyes looked heavy with sleep
or thought. But as l passed out of the
room looked back. saw she had risen
to her feet. and standing with her grace
full figure drawn up to lis full height. she
was looking after me, with a look which
flat:ered myself was look of interest.
All, how well remember that look!
The day had been beautiful one,
though sultry; but in the early evening we
had Il heavy thunder-shower, the violence
of the summer rain delaying my return to
the city for an hour or two; and when the
rain ceased, the evening was still starless.
cloudy, and damp; and as drove back to
town | remember that the night air, al
| though somewhat freshened by the rain,
was warm, and heavy with the scent of
unseen flowers.
1t was late when | reached the quiet
street where had taken up my abode,
and as | mounted the steps involantarily
felt for my night-key, but, to my surprise.
| found the hall door not only unfastened.
but little way opened.
'Why, how is this, Mrs. Honeywell ?"
said,.as my landlady met me in the hall.
''Do you know that your street door was
left open?''
Yes" she said, quietly, II know it."
But is it safe ?" said, as turned to
| lock the door land SO late too
Il do not think there was any danger"
she said. II was on the watch; l was in
the hall myself waiting
Not waiting for me, hope ?" said ];
'that was surely unnecessary" ~
No, not for you, she answered. II
presume you can take care of yourself;
but,' she added. in low voice, ''she is
out, and was waiting to let her in."
"Out at this time of night that seems
strange! Where has she gone!'
II do not know"
And how long has she been gone p
asked, as hung up my hat.
81 can not tell just what time she went
OUT" she said Il know she was in the
garden with the little ones, and came i'll
lust before tea. After they had had their
supper and gone to bed. saw her in the
parlor alone, and when | came into the
room again she WAS gone, and she has not
returned, and -
"Oh, then she went out before the rain.
did she ?'
Eyes, Sir; some time before the rain"
"Oh, then that explains il; she WAS
probably caught out by the rain. and took
shelter at some friends, and has been per-
suaded to stay. There is nothing to bc
dldliucu dt, you ftttu DcteV' "oe ""'e "P
another mon, Mt
but don't like TO slut her nut. Gen
trul. should not steep wink"
Nonsense! NONSENSE" ! salt. $50 to
bni, Won silly woman; you viii hear her
when she comes, ot course l,.u can come
down and let her in" AID so saying,
retired to my own room.
The next morning, at breakfast, no.
ticed that my landlady was looking pale
and troubled, and felt sure she had spent
a sleepless night s u
well, Mrs. Honeywold.'' said. with
assumed cheeriulness, as she handed my
coffee TO me, 'how long did you have to
sit upp What time did she come in ?"
"She did not come all night, General
said my landlady. in troubled voice.
''She has not come home yet, and | am
very anxious about il"
mo need of that, trust" said, reas-
suringly; "she will come this morning, no
Doubt"
II don't know. wish I was sure of
CONCLUDED ON FOURTH PAcE.1