Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1875-12-09
NO. 291.

to say. in young manhood-to resist.
/ instantly stepped forward to protect
her, careless whether involved myself in
q discredtable quarrel with backguard
or not. AS matter OF course, the fellow
resented my interference, and my temper
gave way. Fortunately for me, just as
lifted my hand to knock him down, po-
liceman appeared who had noticed that
, he was drunk and who settled the dispute
officially by turning him ont OF the gar
dens.
l led her away from the crowd that had
collected. She was evidently frightened
IL felt her hand trembling on my arm
but she had one great merit; she made no
fuss about it.
eff can sit down for a few minutcs,''
she said in her pretty foreign accent, II
shall soon be myself again, and shall not
trespass any further on your kindness. 7
thank you very much, Sir, for taking care
of me-
We sat down on a bench in u retired
part of the gardens, near a little fountain.
| A row of lighted lamps ran round the out
er rim of the basin. ] could see her plain
ly.
l have spoken OF her as "a little lady
l could not have described her more COR
rectly in three words.
Her figure was slight and small; she
was wel-made miniature of woman
from head to foot. Her hair and eyes were
both dark The hair curled naturally the
depression OF the eyes were quiet, and
rather sad the complexion, as then saw
it, very pale; the little mouth perfectly
charming. l was especially attracted by
the carriage Of her head it was strikingly
graceful and spirited; it distinguished her.
little as she was. among the thousands of
other women in the gardens, as creature
apart. Even the marked defect in her
a slight "cast'' in the left eye-seemed to
add, in some strange way, to the quaint
attractiveness of her face. / have already
spoken of the tasteful simplicity of her
dress. | ought now to add that it was not
made of any costly material, and that she
wore no jewels or ornaments of any sort.
My little lady was not rich; even mans
eye could see that.
She was perfectly uncmbarrassed and
unaffected We fell as easily into talk as
five had been friends instead Of strang-
ers.
| asked how it was that she had no COM
panion to take care of her. you are too
young and too pretty said in my blunt
English way, ito trust yourself along in
such place as this
She took no notice of the compliment
She calmly put it away from her as if it
had not reached her ears.
II have no friend to take care of me-"
she said simply. II was sad and sorry
this evening, all by myself, and thought
would 90 to the gardens and hear the
music, Just to amuse me. 1t is not
much to pay at the gate; only shilling"
mo friend to take care of you ?" re-
peated. 'Surely there must be one happy
man who might have been with you to.
night
"What man do you mean?' she asked.
The man. | answered. thonghtlessly.
''whom we call in England sweetheart
would have given worlds to have re-
called those foolish words the moment
they passed my lips. | felt that had
taken vulgar liberty with her. Her face
saddened; her eyes dropped to the ground
| begged her pardon.
There is no need to beg my pardon
she said. "If you wish to know, sir-yes,
| had once a sweetheart, as YOU call it in
England He has gone away and left me-
No more ofhim, if youplease. am rested
now. | will thank you again and go
home.
"She rose to leave me.
| was determined not to part with her in
that wpy. | begged to be allowed to see
her safely back to her own door. She
hesitated. took Il mans unfair advan.
tage of her. | appealed to her fears.
said, Suppose the blackguard who an
noyed you should be waiting outside the
gates That decided her. She took my
arm. We went away together by the
bank OF the Thames, in the balmy summer
night.
A walk OF half an hour brought us to
the house in which she lodged-a shabby
little house in q by-street, inhabited evil
IDENTITY by very poor people.
She held out her hand at the door and
wished me good night. was too much
interested in her to consent to leave my
little French lady without the hope of see
ing her again. l asked permission to call
on her the next day. We were standing
under the light of the street-lamp. She
studied my face with grave and steady
attention before she made any reply.
YES" she said at last. II think do
know a gentleman when see him. You
may come, sir. if you please, and call up
on me tomorrow.
So we parted. So | entered-doubting
nothing, toreboding nothing-on a scene
in my life, which now look back on with
UHltlGHcu ItptHtanCe anu regret.
| Ill.
am speaking at this later time in the
position of a clergyman and in the charac-
ter of a man of mature age. Remember
that and you will understand why pass
as rapidly as possible ever the events OF
the next year of my life; why l say as
little as | can of the errors and delusions
of my youth.
called on her the next day. Irepeat-
ed my visits during the days and weeks
that followed, until the shabby little house
in the by-street had become second and
U say it with shame and self-reproach)
iearer home to me.
All of herself and her story which she
thought fit to confide to me under these
circumstances may be repeated 10 you In
few words
The name by which letters were adj
dressed to her was "Mademoiselle Jero-
mette." Among the ignorant people OF
the house and the small tradesmen OF the