The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1883-06-27
A HAPPY COINCIDENCE


how weak she looks, and how sad |" said
Clara Story, the tears of beautiful, womanly
compassion gathering thick in the blue eyes,
and slowly coursing down the blooming
,heek
She stood in the doorway of the farm sit.
ting-room, and the sunshine from the broad
summer fields outside rushed about her, and
made living gold of her beautiful hair, and
she stood in its light, with heavenly pity
on her pure face, as though she had but
newly alighted upon earth from some fairer
region.
She was looking at the figure of an old
woman, crouched on low armchair, at the
opposite wall
She was much travel-stained. The shoe.
were dragged down at heel, thick with the
mud of many highways, and in some places
burst open the dress-an old silk one
was very ragged, but not as from wear;
there were great rents, as if the poor soul
bad forced her way through thorn and bram-
ble-thickets
Her head was uncovered and the gray
hair fell disheveled and unkempt. Her face
was very pinched, very white and hollow
checked. She had all the look of a vagrant,
wandering from place to place, ready to take
revenge on society for real or fancied wrongs
received from it.
so thought Aunt Deborah, as she came
into the room, at the moment, with plate.
holding golden pyramid of blocks of but
ter.
"Gracious sakes, child!" cried Aunt
Deborah. Where did you get this crea.
tnre, in the name of goodness Why did
you let her in at ALP"
Well, Aunt Deb," said Clara, quietly,
~ can hardly say that l let her in but l
found her on the road, just at our gate,
almost fainting, and l brought her in,
aunt, as | am sure yon would do yourself"
"All very well, child but this creature is
a tramp, and one of the seediest--,and hate
tramps, and you know do And I'm not
going to have my house-leastways it's my
brother Thomas, which is all the same
filed with nasty creatures, all over mud
and heaven knows what they have picked
up in their woods, aud swamps, and bitches,
so, my old woman, just let me see you
ramp out of my house this minute ="
The old woman turned hck-lustre eye
on the speaker, and stared at her MS if hard
ly comprehending her; but Aunt Deborah's
raised voice, the flush on her face, and.
above ALL the expressive gesture toward the
door, were too significant to he misunder.
stood.
The poor creature feebly rose, and with
half-bow, the grace of which formed q
singular contrast to her dress and appear
ance, tottered, rather than walked, slowly
toward the door.
She did not reach it, for Clara, with ft-
full color in her cheek, and certain steely
CLINT shining in her eyes, was by the old
woman's SIDE and led her back to her seat.
AS the poor old creature reached it, she
sank down on the edge; then sliding from
it to the floor, lay there, heap of muddy
rags, with the white face, now insensible.
staring out from it.
"She has .ainted, aunt. Fetch SMELL
ing-bottle and glass of water"
Her voice was stern, and Aunt Deborah
had never seen such an expression in the
handsome young face.
"Law, child |" she said, as she came in
with the two requirements and busted her
self about the insensible form, ~ never
thought the poor creature could be took so
hard If had looked into her face a little
closer might have seen she warn't in no fit
condition to tramp the roads. But" she
added, in whisper, "she be awful dirty,
and she be a tramp!"
81 don't think she Is tramp, as the rest
are. aunt. She has some trouble, you may
brain"
Nonsense, Clara! You are too romantic,
altogether. Anybody who looked minute
at her would say she was tramp all her
days. But she has come to. Are you bet
ter now, my dear2 Could you take glass
of milk ?"
The old woman was seriously ill-too i'll to
be removed, even if there was any place to
remove her to; so that Aunt Deborah was
obliged to digest the venom of her spleen
against tramps and trampdom as best she
could, and the invalid was placed in Miss
Clara's own bed, and the doctor was sent
for.
When Mr.. Dickson, Clara's uncle, came
home he entirely approved the proceedings
and declared he would never have held up
his head if the lowest of Gods creatures
had been driven from his door to die by the
roadside.
Nothing could surpass the devotion of
Clara to her invalid. The latter's dress had
been removed, and some of Miss Deborahs
substituted. And now that she was cleaned
and "tidied up" she presented a much
more aristocratic appearance than Miss De-
borah herself.
She was in high fever, and required
careful nursing. Her rawlings were inces-
SAINT, and Clara could gather from them that
the surroundings of her life must have been
elegant and refined, but no clue as to her
name. Clara's devotion had its origin in
her pity and charity, but indeed she felt the
necessity of the occupation afforded her by
this good action, to fill the void left in her
heart by the first great grief of her life.
Clara Story was an orphan, her parents
having died when she was at an early age
She had spent year alternately at her pa
.ernal uncle, Mr.. Story's, old home in Chest.
nut Hill, aad at her maternal uncle, Mr..
Dicksons farm in Bucks County.
At Chestnut Hill she had met Mr.. Philip
Dupont, and after short courtship, accept
ed as her lover. No girl was happier than
Clara. She loved Philip with the whole
strength of her strong heart, and she knew
that she was beloved by him.
In the midst of her Joy she received let
ter from Mr.. Dupont's mother, forbidding
the engagement, and charging her, If she
loved Philip unselishly, to break it other
wise she would destroy his prospects in life,
for his mother would disinherit him and his
friends forsake him.
Clara could brig her husband absolutely
nothing but her worth and beauty, for both
nsr uncles were in straitened circumstances,
while Philip moved in the highest and