The Grange advance. [volume] (Red Wing, Minn.) 1873-1877, 1876-11-22
gel, with her clasped hands and shin

just as she WAS poised, quite radi-
ant, in mid air, one of the pulleys gave
way, chain snapped, and Glare was
down on the flooring trembling un-
conscious heap, her white wings brok-
en-, her spangled dress frayed--a pitt
full spectacle! $s $=
A man from one Of the front seats
sprang upon the stage and lifted up
Clare; the orchestra ceased playing
the lights went out the curtain fell.
The star Of the evening was but {, fall
en- one.
When Clare woke to consciousness
she was in her own little room, and the
doctor WAS binding up her broken arm,
and near him stood the man who had
leaned over the bridge, his rugged face
full Of tender pity.
''She will not be able to use her arm
for weeks,'' said the doctor, s:and
her foot may make her a cripple for
life.''
This did not trouble Glare much,
who had been taking morphine, and
lapsed off into long spells OF 1lncon-
seriousness, waking up at intervals long
enough to know she had q woman to
care for her, and every attention that
heart could wish. and growing quite
| happy, when sometimes she SAW q
| stern face--harsh to others itmight be,
but always tender toward her--and
leaning over her, and guessed, by de-
grees, that he had sent her home in
his carriage that night of the accident,
and had been caring for her ever
since liz q delicate and chivalrous man
ner.
It was weeks before she sat 10 in q
! big chair, with her broken arm living
powerless beside her. Poor little arm!
how much it was willing to Go, and
might have done had it not been rem
dered useless! Tier lame foot got bet
ter but her arm did not mend at all,
neither did her general health i'm
prove.
Day after day she lay OH her narrow
bed, watching the bit Of sky above the
roofs grow gray or blue at intervals.
hearing noisy cook-stove recontres
next door. the old violin and the
starved artists feeble step on the
stairs. 5>>
There was another step she had
learned to know, and her eyes grew
brilliant and her cheeks took on a rose
tint when she heard it, and all the lit
tie actress room got to be glorifed by
lis presence.
| In all Clare's artless life she had
never been SO happy as now, when
Colonel Leslie spent his evenings in
her room. sitting beside her, and
sometimes taking her mite Of a hand
and stroking the lame wrist softly.
One must be all alone in the world,
q struggling. unloved girl, to know
how dear such II one may become, and
as q drowning man clutches at straws.
so Clare clung to him and Worshipped
him as she would a star; and newell
he looked at fragile Glare, with her
face passionate, yet pure, and thought
to himself he had wronged women
! greatly, when lie had used to think
there were no good women among &C
tresses and those thrown out upon the
world for support.
There Was such Z; mixture of baby,
child and old woman in Clare S patient
face and patient ways, that she was an
enigma to him always, and it pleased
him greatly to be kind to her. He was
very wealthy and proud, and had come
Ct q race whose God was worldly po-
sition, and though his tenderness to-
ward Glare might amount to love. he
would never dare to marry an actress.
| Clare's foot got better, and she
could get about little and get out.
but her arm still hung useless. What
| could she do for Il living! She could
not go on the stage with her arm in /,
sling. She could not sew with one
hand. When she applied for stu.
alton as teacher, she received the an
swer: 1--WE hire no broken-down &C.
| treSses here.'
She went about like one under a ban.
and what she had earned her living at
by hard, honest labor, stood out against
her like a crime. When Clare's health
had been good, she had always been
such happy, courageous, aggressive lit
tie mortal but now pain and weakness
made her timid and shrinking, and all
her hopes and happiness began to be
conferred on Colonel Leshe's smile.
1t had got to be October, and Glare
was just where she had been weeks be-
fore; her health no better, the money
she saved nearly gone but very happy
to-day, for had not Colonel Leslie been
gone three weeks on q visit to some
friends, and was coming home to-
night?
All day Clare had been On the qui
vive, restless, wandering about in her
feeble fashion. She had taken the
best part of her dinner into the al
fists room, and set it down slyly on
his table while he was out. She had
divided most Of her supper with the
Grun!1orH' g children TOR 1y1,v cbo,,16