The weekly Shasta courier. [volume] (Shasta, Calif.) 1872-190?, 1873-08-23

| had forgotten RhOda was to De mar
ried so soon" murmured Christine, Aunt,
1 ought to 60 there oftener, oughtn't L?
"Why, my dear." cried Aunt Thusa,
setting her spectacles for another observa-
ton, you know young lady in your posi-
ton has SO many engagements"
"But | shall not have so many engage
ments the rest Of the time. will go there
tomorrow. Let me help you with Rhoda's
work. Wait. I'll ring for Lsette to bring
some of my laces; l shall like to do things
for Rhoda"
"Aunt Thusa," said Christine, as they sat
under the gas, their laps Overcoming with
lace and tulle, :" is Rhoda's tiance wealthy ?"
No; has only his salary, but very wor-
| thy young man."
Christine left the room, and went up to
her writing-deSk. She found blank and
filled it.
when / am dead" she thought on the
staircase, Aunt Thusa will miss me; she
will enlarge the borders of her mourning
dear soul. | hope Rhoda will think of me,
too. I shan't have many weepers." The
thought hurt her till tears gushed over her
cheeks.
Next morning Rhoda ran up that same
staircase, palpitating with feeling which
would outlast her own life. She found
Christine alone, and reached out trembling
hands.
"Oh, cousin, you've made me the happi-
est girl in the world. Two thousand-two
whole Thousand dollars for wedding gift!
We shall owe our hOme-where we begin
our lives together to you" Christine here
crushed the tremulous red mouth against
her neck. and carried the happest girl in
the world into her own apartments, there to
devote three precious hours of her slipping
life to plans for anothers bliss.
Christine was not a member of any chari-
table Board or Society, though she gave lib
orally to those Boards. She nervously alb
horred what she called the "goody- goody,
Dorcas type of woman" She turned on
herself in surprise, when she found that self
had formed a sudden desire to enter sister
hood of which some of her acquaintance
had told her. 1t comprised, mainly, young
women of society. with time and money at
their disposal. Each in her appointed week
laid off the pomps and vanities of this wick
ed world. robed and yelled herself in their
gray uniform of serge, and went among the
poorest poor to serve them.
Christine presented herself before the So
ciety, and was gladly received. You came
just in time, Miss Dent, if you wish to begin
at once" said the presiding lady. 1T will
| be Miss Trains turn next week, and she is
seriously indsposed."
al will take her place" said Christine
| So she slipped into the gray uniform, and
went to spend days and nights nursing a
| ~ e. no ~ RI
of the city. l dare say, if DR.. Mercury had
heard it, he would have prescribed sudden
death for her, untinctured by one day of
grace.
Il wish had three years to live instead
OF three weeks" she whispered over the fe-
verish German baby. So many to be TAX
en- care of in just the very places where
there is no one to pity and no arm to save"
An artist-unfortunate rat-who burrow-
ed in the same great warehouse with these
Germans, went up and down the stairs.
Ever as he passed, he turned appreciative
eye on the picture their opened door showed
him. One twilight, as Christine soothed the
baby on her knee, she saw the evening star
between the roofs. While she turned her
rapt, resigned face upward, the artist paus-
ed on the stairs, caught an inspiration which
he called st. Agnes" carried it up, put it
on canvas, and had an opportunity soon af-
terward OF hanging it on exhibition.
Among the visitors who noticed this pic,
ture was Dartley. He stopped to study it.
st. Agnes !" That's Christine Dents face,
yet it isn't her face either. Where did you
find your model" he asked of the painter,
who lowered near like seedy guardian
angel.
Il found her in the room of poor fami-
ly, nursing sick child, in one of those
charity uniforms which ] believe ladies
sometimes don during Lent studied her
face without her knowledge"
at is Christine Dent!" muttered Dart
| ley under his moustache. Rather selfish
saint! But there's something fascinating
about that look. l say what's your price
for this pcture?"
Christine did not take off her gray shroud
at the end of the week she would give one
more week to the work. As she went her
ways, street beggars began to take great
stock in her. She who had loathed the un-
washed, would stop to talk with filthy chill
dren; to touch with money and her pure
pink fingers the repulsive palms of half-alive
wretches to speak compassionately to those
who are desperate because lost. Her heart
was on level with them. Its currents
flowed out to them. The remnant of her
days was all love. 81 wonder if | feel lit
tie as Jesus Christ felt toward people," she
meditated.
Why."-the thought struck her sud-
denly one day Pm happy! 1t didn't make
any difference whether l was happy or not,
yet never was as happy in my life before
This is beautiful last month"
She saw cousin Rhoda married, and took
one or two little dips into such festivities as
there were. We are social, and part from
our kind reluctantly.
Christine found her world had changed
with herself. She discerned sterling princi-
pies in many whom she used to distrust and
despise. The little vanities and jealouses
of society broke against her like gossamer.
She was woman who who was going to die.
She stood in more than one great drawing
room, casting her earnest, true eyes about,
wishing she could reach her arms and cry,
On, friends, knowing more Of our humani-
| ty, love the best of every one of you. I
wish | could make you little happier be-
fore CO."
Every one agreed there was charm
about Christine Dent at that time, which
drew even women to her
The manager of her property called on her
one morning directly alter breakfast. He
brought bad news. Two business houses
had failed, involving whole communities in
their ruin. Her fortune was gone.
Now don't, my dear Miss Dent" cried
the excited gentleman, seeing her fold her
hands and cast down her eyes, don't