Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1875-06-25
SENT BY EXPRESS.

Marian Harlan was alone in the
world-her mother just buried.
She was q beautiful, brown-haired
girl, with soft, shy eyes of violet gray,
and rosy lips compressed to q firmness
beyoud her years. For after all she
was scarcely seventeen, and SO Deacon
Gray was telling her, as she sat by the
fire, spreading his huge hands over
the tardy blaze, and asked:
''But what are you gOin' to do to
earn your bread and butter, child ?''
81 don't know-I haven't thought.
Mamma had an uncle in New York,
who"
eyes, yes-Ive heard about him
he was mad because your mother
didn't marry just exactly to suit him,
wasn't it ?"
Marian was silent. Deacon Gray
waited a few minutes, hoping she
would admit him into her secret medi-
tations; but she did not, and the dea-
con went away home, to tell his wife
that "the Harlan gal was the very
queerest creature he ever had come
across"
In the meanwhile Marian was busy
packing her few scanty things into a
little carpet-bag, by the weird, flicker
ing light Of the dying wood fire."
81 will go to New York. she said to
herself, setting her small pearly teeth
firmly together. my mothers uncle
shall hear ny cause pleaded through
my own lips. Oh, wish my heart
would not throb 30 wildly! l am no
longer meek Marian Harlan, I am an
orphan, all alone in the world, who
must fight hfe's battles with her own
single hands,
Lower Broadway, at Z O'CLOCK in the
EVENING" What Babel of crashing
wheels, burying humanity, and con-
glomerate noises it was! Marian Har-
Ian sat in the corner of an express
Office under the fare of gaslight, sur
rounded by boxes, and wondered
whether people ever went crazed in
this perpetual din and tumult. Her
dress was very plain-gray poplin,
with a shabby, oId-fashioned little
straw bonnet tied with black ribbons,
and blue veil, while her only article
of baggage, the carpet bag, play in her
lap. She had sat there two hours, and
was very, very tired.
"Poor little thingr thought the
dark-haired young clerk nearest her,
who inhabited sort of wire cage un-
der circlet of gaslights. And then
he took up his pen and plunged it in
to perfect Atlantic ocean of ac-
counts,
"Mr. Evans"
"Sir."
The dark-haired clerk emerged from
his cage with his pen behind his ear,
in obedience to the beckoning finger
of his superior.
I have noticed that young woman
sitting here for some time-how came
she here?"
Expressed on sir, from Milling
ton, Iowa-arrived this afternoon
AS though poor Marian Harlan were
a box or paper parcel.
"Who for?"
"Consigned to Walter Harrington,
Esq"
"And why hasn't she been called
for ?"
'I sent up to MIR. Harrington's ad-
dress to notify him some time ago
expect an answer every moment"
IS Very odd" said the oray-haired
gentleman taking up his newspaper.
eyes, sir, rather"
Some three-quarters of an hour af
terward, Frank Evans came to the pale
girls side with indescribable pity in
his hazel eyes.
''Miss Harlan, We have sent to Mr..
S residence"
Marian looked up with a feverlsh |
red upon her cheek, and her hands |
clasped tightly on the handle of the |
faded carpet-bag.
'And we regret to inform you that |
he sailed for Europe at twelve o'clock
this day." 4
A sudden blur came over Marian's s
eyes-she trembled like leaf. In all
her calculations she had made no al |
Iowance for an exigency like this.
''Can we do anything further for |
you?'' questioned the young clerk, |
politely.
'Nothing-no one can do anything
now -
Frank Evans had been turning
away, but something in the piteous
tones of her voice appeared to arouse
every manly instinct within him.
'Shall send to any other of your
friends p
81 have no friends
"Perhaps / can have your things
sent some quiet family hotel ?"
Marian opened her little leather
purse and showed him two ten-cent
pieces, with smile that was almost a
tear.
ssThis is all the money have in the
world sir -
So young, so beautiful and so DESC
latel Frank Evans had been a New
Yorker all his life but he had never
- n1 fn
this. He bit the end of his pen in dire
to do ?" l don't know sir. Isn't there
a work house, or some such place |
can go to until could find something
to do ?"
Hardly, Frank Evans could scarce
ly help smiling at poor Marlan's SIM
plicity.
They are putting out the lights and
preparing to close the Office, said Mar
ian, starting nervously to her feet.
II must go-somewhere."
"Miss Harlan" said Frank, quietly,
my home is very poor ONE am
only five hundred dollar clerk-blt 1
am sure my mother will receive you
under her roof for day or two, If you
can trust me"
you lOOhGu dC
him through violet eyes obscured in
tears. Oh sir, should be SO thank
full"
"How late you are, Frank Here
give me your overcoat-it is all pow
dered with snow and"
But Frank interrupted his bustling,
cherry-cheeked little mother. az she
stood tip-toe to take offhis outer wrap
pings.
Hush. mother; there is a young
lady down stairs."
"a young lady, Frank"
eyes, mother; expressed on from
Iowa to Harrington, the rich merchant,
he sailed for Europe this morning, and
she is left entirely alone. Mother, she
looks like poor Blanche, and [ knew
you wouldn't refuse her corner here
until she could find something to do.
Mrs. Evans went to the door and
u ell