Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1880-02-21
CHAPTER VII.
MARGARET AND CLARIcE.

met with her, and told Margaret so, and
having heard so much, easily prevailed /
upou her to relate to me all the particulars
of her trouble. The girl of whom she was
in search was her twin-sister, but, as she
said, resembling her only in the shape and
form of her features. Their father, Mar
saret said, led such life as I and Paul
were leading he was an educated man,
but poor, and fond OF wandering. He
traveled-his wife being dead-for years
through many countries, accompanied by
his children.
"'He loved nsdevotedly, said Margaret,
sand we were most happy with him. He
taught us to play comedies, and indeed
wrote pieces to suit-us, and we acted them
to simple people in villages and small
towns We did not perform in large cities.
Nv father seemed to avoid them purposely,
and when it was necessary for us to pass
through them in our travels, he made
point of stunning observation. All! how
happy was our life! We never felt the
pinch of poverty, and scarcely knew what
care was. Clarice, my darling sister,
Clarice, was the flower of our little garden.
Perhaps it was because she was so much
smaller than I, and looked SO much younger,
although there were only a few minutes
difference in our ages, that I looked upon
her as child, and upon myself as woman
Indeed, was the mother of the family,
and Clarice, I believed and believe, loved
me as truly and faithfully as l loved her.
I was not Jealous of her. although she was
always the favorite she deserved to be,
for she was beautiful and gentle, while /
well, l have temper, little too quick at
hines. but not bad, indeed not bad And |
am better now, since have lost Clarice.
have to suffer without repining, or l may
never find her.
"My heart was moved to deep tender
ness by Margarets plaintive words, which
expressed world of inherent goodness and
unselfish love. Shortly before her fathers
death they were joined by the man who
was now Margaret's companion and master,
the man had seen that day in the forest.
Her fathers health was breaking and this
man, by smooth and cunning ways, and by
pretended tenderness towards his girls,
obtained so complete dominion over him
that before his death, which happened
three years before met Margaret, he gave,
by written legal document, the control of
his children into the hands of the villain.
ga villain, indeed, he proved. The or
phan girls were among strangers there
was not one friend in all the wide world to
whom they could turn; they had no rela-
tives, and ne native land they could call
their own, for they did not even know
where they had been born; they were ut
terly alone, in the power of man whom
they could neither love nor respect, and
who, as the result proved, brought desola-
ton into their young lives. He drove them
hither and thither, and made them work
and dance for his profit, at all hours and
in all seasons, and ruled them with a rod
of iron.
81 will give you the rest of Margaret's
story in her own words. l wrote it as she
in after times narrated it to me, and | have
the paper now in my possession fancying
that you hear Margaret speak you will be
able to form a better idea of the nature of
the woman l was glad to see my son
marry, and whom l now declare to be
worthy of your friendship and regard. -
GAS for me, )" said Margaret, 81 could
stand such life l am strong and hardy !;
but it was different with Clarice. She was
delicate and fragile, and the work dis
tressed and fatigued her. While our father
lived she had been our pet lamb, and had
never received harsh word or look. She
had now to endure such hardship as we
never supposed would have fallen to her
lot; for we had mapped out fair future
for her, and had INDUCED in bright dreams
of a happy welded life, with hus-
band who loved her as we loved her,
and children as fair and sweet as our
own dear girl. We lived in the sunlight
then now every hour was dark. Clarice
did not complain to me, but who should
know her strength, or more correct to say,
her weakness, and of what she was capa-
BILE, better than ? and knew that the
life she was now compelled to live would
kill her in a few years. did what l
could to tighten her work, and
when our master was not watch
ing US, endeavored to repair the
mischief he was doing. l planned scheme
of escape, whittier l knew not, for we were
driven from place to place, from fair to
fair, from show to show, without our be-
ing aware in what part of the country, and
sometimes in what country, we were max
ing crowds of rough people laugh and ap-
plaud. They liked to see Clarice dance,
and then called for her again and again,
and she had no choice but to comply with
Inelr cruel uHtli iiOhi
exhaustion on the stage-and even then, so
pretty did she look as she lay painting be-
fore them, with my arms around her, and
my lips whispering comfort to her, they
made the place ring with their cheers in
praise of her acting; for it is all acting on
the stage, is it not =? There is nothing
real All if people only knew.
"The night selected for our flight ar
rived, and Clance and I stole away at an
hour past midnight, when our master and
all in the village were asleep. We had no
money, no experience, no knowledge of the
world. The only idea in my mind was to
escape by road we had not hitherto ira
versed, and to trust to fortune for the rest.