Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1874-12-31
NEW YEARS EVE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF 'coBwEns,' ETC.

II was New Years Eve, and The snON
which had been falling steadily all day
had nov ceased. A stinging .lorth
west wind was blowing. The street
were deserted, and most of the house
/. closed. One, however, and that tn
most imposing On FOntleroy Square
blazed with light, for ball was bein;
given within.
Before one of the drawing-room..win
dows of this mansion, holding on to tn
railing, and looking in, was woman
apparently not over twenty-one, an,
who had once been beautiful. But he
form was now attenuated, as If by Ion,
sickness, perhaps even hunger, and SIN
was both poorly and thinly clad:
That is Hetty,' she said, in hushet
whisper, How beautiful she ha
grown
In her eagerness she rose on tip-toe
holding on TO the railing, and lifting
her head, till her bonnet fell back
wards.
AT that moment, gay, well-remem
bered air rose, from a superb band
| within.
"Ah the Beautiful Blue Danube ~
she cried. Howl used to love to waltz
! to it,
She listened, breathlessly, till the last
bars of the music had died away. Then
the promenading began again.
If only papa would come this way,
she murmured. He will Dever forgive
! me, know; he will never, never speak
| to me again; but if could only see his
dear face, only once >
'Hille, theren cried rough voice
beside her, and policeman's hand
was laid on her shoulder. None of
this. Move on, move on
She shrsnk as if polluted, and fled,
frightened, from the big, burly police
man. But she went no further than
around the corner. There, hiding, be-
hind tree, she watched till he had
disappeared on his beat, and then
steaithily crept back to the window.
Dear Hetty,' she said, rs slender,
graceful girl again approached the Win
dow, escorted by cavalier, who bent
down to listen to her in a way that told
a whole story of love and alteration,
the glamour is on her too. God grant
she may fare better than did F!
Helen EOrtescue, for that was the
wayfarer's name, had been high
spirited, petted, inpulsive girl, when,
at eighteen, she fell in love with a
plausible, handsome adventurer, who
called himself a count, and whom she
clung to and believed in, even after
she had been told his real character.
Had her mother lived, it might have
been different. But Mrs. Fortescue had
been dead for more than ten years, and
poor Helen had grown up, without
Sh,f hl<, If fhsnnr., 70
young girl, a mothers constant, super
vising care. = ~.
For now her once loved father SEEM.
ed both prejudiced and tyraunical.
There was a stormy interview, in
which Mr.. Fortescue forbade the suitor
his house; an elopement; q vain appeal
of the young wife for forgiveness; u
curse, literally like that Of the old He
brews, pronounced on the disobedient
child: and then fainting girl was
borne of, BY terrified servants, to The
carriage, that had waited for her, and
which bore her away, to wake, only
too soon, from her dream of love and
happiness.
For her husband did not even p,e-
tend to care for her, now that he found
she had come to him penniless. A few
months after, when the money, raised
by the sale of her jewels, was spent, he |
brutally deserted her. This happened |
at an out-of-the-way German town,
and the shock nearly eosts Helen her
life. Her baby, born in this hour of
tw0-fold agony, only survived for lit
tie while; and then the poor, hopeless
girl was utterly desoiate; for rs long as
the child lived, as long as Helen had |
something to love, she was not wholly |
She had supported herself,
during all these sad months, partly by /
the sale of her wardrobe, and partly by |
her needle; but when the tiny coffin |
was paid for, and the innocent baby
laid In its humble grave, she was liter |
ally destitute. Then began terrible |
struggle, q struggle merely for bread to
eat. Hundreds of times, Helen felt /
that it would be q blessing if she could |
die; but death would not come; she was
too healthy, she had too much vitali-
ty, to sink even under such burdens as
her. She fingered at the OBJ
,cure tow q, where her infant was bur-
led, as iong, as she could, clinging to
The last to that igrass-grown hillock,
where all that was left to her was laid;
put subsistence Was, from the first, diff
1cult to be earned there and finally beasl
.arne impossible; and then she set her
ace homeward, with sort Of desper-
lte feeling, saying, Let me see them
,nce again, and then l will lie down
md die sFi
By what lonely wanderings, through
what hunger ami suferings, she fought
Ter way, months after, back to Ameri-
a, who can tell? Yet she did not re-
urn, because she hoped to be forgiven.
No! she knew her father too well fOrj
hat. But at the end her health began
o fail, racking cough set in, and the
lesire grew on her to creep within sight
II the old house, and lie down and die.
in her nights of fever, she
hought that, perhaps, she might catch
glimpse of Hetty, or her father, afar
If, they not seeing her. Or perhaps
hey might brush by her in the street,
o that she could touch their garments,
Unknown to them.
This very day she had reached her
ative city, penniless, having gspent her
asst dollar in railroad fare. She had
aten nothing all day. She knew not
vhere she was to sleep. She had come, I
to the old home; but she
i'd not dare to enter; all she could do
vas to look in, hopeIessly, as she was
oing now.
How cold it grows, she said, as her
peth began to chatter, for the wind :
lew keener than ever. Il feel so tired, !
90. Oh if could only see papa
Gradually she grew more and more .
rowsy; but she did not feel so chilly
ow; only her limbs seemed to be CIV ,
NV way under her strangely, and her
rain got dulled and stunned.
Il will rest awhile she said, finally,
itting down on the doorstep. BY
ny-by feel stronger. No wonder l :
m so tired, have not slept any, or so :
tile, for SO long /
When, some time after, the ball began a
D break up, and the first carriages to /