The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-09-14

''Wel, why not?s said I, rather Of
Tended, and with the egotism of illness.
Some Scattering remnant Of what
once had been my intelligence sug-
gested that this young lady might be
one of Arthur SISTERS, who had come
home unexpectedly, and had stepped
| forgive the dreams of a sick many over
the balcony into the parlor.
who are your ! asked.
II am Helen Froment, the governess,
said shes ''sent down by Mrs CLARK for
some forgotten books. The train ran
off the track. got here just now. l
have rung and rung and rung, but as
no one let me In, /, seeing the blinds
open, naturally clambered over the
iron railing, and here / am. Now, who
and what are youg' 4
Il am sick man, Horatio Bronson,
/ believe. Arthur brought me here. 4
@Oh, of c0ursei How absurdp He
wrote to his mother all about You. /
had forgotten. Ny nerves have been
SO shaken by that railroad accident ]
had forgotten that you were here. l
beg thousand pardons for this intru-
sion. ! wilLcreep up into my room
and disturb nobodY.n
'sStop minute my mind is weak.
Turn up the gas, please. viii you? How
| do you happen to be called Helen Fro
ment, like the picture on the wall?''
The lady laughed and turned up the
gas. sit is curious coincidence,
said she. THE young ladies call me
the Rubens. am simply German
girl, with q common enough German
name, Helena Froment, the governess.''
/ took IA good look at her.
She was quiet girl, in gray travel
ing dress, although / thought her
smiling German face not unlike that of
the picture.
Then the gas went down, and she
went off, and the crowbar went on fall
ing every five minutes outside, and the
little bell tinkled at three q clock.
About this time Arthur began to fade
away. 1t seemed to me that I only saw
him once after this, and then l said to
him: '.Nice girl, Helen Froment, in a.
| jocular way.
i He laughed and said: what queer
things you do say!
II mean the governess, your sisters
governess, hoping he would tell me
about her.
"Ohl yes; the governesS; yes; ha!
ha! Helen Froment. Only Horatio,
old fellow, keep cool; keep quiet.
Yes. She is a nice girl enough but
he laughed and would not explain.
Arthur disappeared about this time.
| asked for him, and they said he had
gone away. should have missed him
more, but Helen, Helen Froment, be-
came so devoted to me. She did not 90
back to Mrs. Clark with the books. She
staid and nursed me most assiduously.
She could draw and paint very we'll in
water colors, and finding that this quiet
accomplishment amused without weary
! ing me, she was kind enough 10 sit by
my side and let me watch her. Then
| she told me quaint stories in q German
accent, and read poetry to me, and in a
low recitatiYe, or in a sort of chant she
| gave my weary ears the relief of pretty
and plaintiye ballads of her own Ger
man land, which she sang in a pure,
simple ballad voice, the best of all
voices. E.s
One hot evening she said to me: "Do
you know what night this is? 1t is the
eve of ST. John. Midsummer Night,
when the spirits of men 60 forth to meet
God in the woods; the angels are all
about us. e
And she drew with her water colors
| for me a little picture Of procession of
Druids walking in q forest, while
through the gothic arches OF. the trees
long lines of White-winged angels came
down to meet them. remember how
icleyerly she touched in the wings with
a CLEAN of white.
But | was getting too much white
about this time, and the strong white
drapery and the sad face of the Cenci
began to trouble me. ] asked Helen to
put that picture away, so could not
see it. That can not do, said she,
''but can throw my dark shawl over
it, and she did.
Helen Froment, meantime Rubens'
Helen, continued to smile and be amia-
BILE. | asked the other Helen to make
me little copy of that bright face, and
to leave it where l could tip it up with
my weak hand, and look at it little
nearer. This she did, but when tried
to grasp it, found out how weak was.
found that / could not even master
that frail piece of paper.
"You must remember said Helen.
"you are still very ILL.," and she laid
the sketch away in q drawer of my lit
tie table.
Then | began to get better, was
strong, convalescent. I returned in
thought to the world, and with me into
the land of health came the patient
girl who had now become nv daily
companion. She did not take all the
care OF me. Two men seemed to do
that. | could not exactly tell where or
when they came in, but just about with
the disappearance of Arthur, | should
say--that vague, uncertain period, not
far from the time when Helen came in.
Somehow, | did not care to ask. ques-
tons. Life was delightful enough,
with the music, the painting, the
poetry, which this accomplished girl
brought into it. The other people made
disagreeable noises, and were not al
together agreeable to feeble nerves.
My men nurses tramped heavily and
tangled glasses, and the doctor was,
| bAhN lAlOoG 1CS JCCGdUl6rf VI. HIS
species, what / should call loud man.
Helen made no noise; she was the very
essence of Stiffness, except when she
sang or talked, and that was music
which is not noise. Discord is what
hurts us. Helen was all concord.
Noise is discord 1t seems to me that
| this state of things had gone on for
weeks, and that | began to know Helen
as q man ought to know a woman
whom he shall love and marry. | be-
gan to watch for fitting opportunity to
tell her that | loved her, that she was
the being of all others to make me
happy. | owed it to Helen to tell her
SO, and felt that we must make some
/ excuse to our friends for being so much
together, that even the doctor might
think it strange, that, perhaps, Arthur
-yes-Arthur. Where a0ds ArAsatr?
But when was ready to frame these
sentences, Helen always evaded me;
sometimes tinkling of that ridiculous
| bell-and the men nurses came in
sometimes the doctor himself, never
Arthur.