Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1883-12-05

"A year passed, cfOWuel with new SCENES
and people, when we returned 81 England
and went TO the Charing Cross Hotel In
London, for a little rest before the homes
ward voyage. There we found an American
friend, Mr.. Leveridge, OF illinois, who had
been travelling for six mon. IS with party
from st. Louis, and who wa Is TO sail for New
York i'm the SEQ in the en- uing Saturday.
He was a kentuckian by birth, but had
gone early TO Illinois, and there added acre
to acre till his estate surpassed those of
many dukedom. Genial and unpretend-
ing, his warm heart and mar illness and gem
erosity made him everywhere loved and re-
spected, and life had gone smoothly with
him, till the previous winter, when he had
lost his only daughter, an amiable girl, in
her seventeenth year. He was inconsola-
BILE. He could neither attend to business
nor welcome his friends, and his wife, a
sensible, motherly woman, alarmed at his
condition, persuaded him to join this party
from st. Louis for tour abroad. He had
no enthusiasm, however, for travel. -
would rather see good field OF wheat or
corn" he would say, ethan all the ruins in
Europe. Everything is so old and con-
tracted and formal here, and the mass of
the people have To struggle so formereex
istence that il depresses me. 1 shall be glad
to get home where there's room and liber-
ty." But, nevertheless, new scenes and
| cheerful company had broken UP the sad
routine of his thoughts, and he now seemed
quite himself again, except when some al
fusion was made to his daughter. t
IL was Monday morning OF the week he
was TO sail. He had dropped in to see us,
and we were looking over some American,
! newspapers, when servant came TO say
that Margaret Vallot, q young girl who suid
we had known her father, begged to speak
| with us. IVA.
" 1t must be jeans daughter" we ex-
| claimed. Bring her up at once" ~.
A moment and slight fgure .enteIed
| timidly and soft voice said: -
pardon me If intrude. L had hcaraSo
much of you all from my father that when
| saw your name among. the arrivals here
l could not help comingD
1--WE are glad to see you. Take this chain
| by the window and tell us about him and
| yourself"
"Alas!" SHE replied, bursting into tears,
| 81 have no longer Il father! After he left
| YOU he came TO see Lucille and me, and
| stayed several days with us, and gave us
| the presents you were so kind to send, and
| told us much of you. We had always been
| afraid of him, but now he was so pleasant
| that IL almost seemed as il dear mamma
had come back lie kissed Us when no went
away, and wrote us suclia good letter from
| Mlrtigny that we thought he did love us,
after all, and that perhaps some day we
might live together and be- happy. The
next news we had was that he was dead !!
Crossing the Alps with his.barty, he was
| thrown from carriage aniso badly hurt
|
| inn, and there, after three weeks, he died.
| IL was Karl Voigt, friend of his, who took
| care of him and saw him buried. He had
| been To Rome with some travellers, and was
ut the inn ON his way back when tho acct
| dent happened. He would not write TO us,
but as soon as he could he came to see us
and told us all, and brought us what things
our father left, and the little money that
remained when his bills wcre paid, and
| with him we came to London.o
| We were shocked by this sad intelligence,
| and expressed our waTmest sympathy for
the orphans. Hard, well-meaning man
| the time had soon como when his "girls"
must ''shift for themselves"
| Margaret had spoken rapidly and with
many sobs, but now she sat quiet, with her
hands folded on her lap, in the full morning
| light, and observed her closely to sec what
manner of girl she was--of medium height
| and slender, with brown eyes, and hair of
| the same color ooiled low in her ncck-her
face n little like her fathers in outline, but
| delicate and sweet where his was heavy
and grim-not beautiful, but very winning,
| and with an appealing look that went
| straight to the heart and made one long TO
| shield her from harm. Her black dress was
| of the simplest fashion and most inexpen-
sive material, but there was dainty grace
in its arrangcment-thc carelessly knotted
| fichu, the collar just showing ut the throat,
the dropping hat-rarcly seen i'll the attire
of an English girl of any rank, and which
she had brought with her across the Chan
mel,
"And what friends have you in Londony"
we asked Mt length.
"Only Aunt Mary, mammals sister, who
is q widow and lives in two rooms at No.
| II Horton Street. We could live cheaper
| on the continent, and so have never been
i'm England till now; but mamma was very
| fond of her own country and told us much
about it, and always liked Us to speak En-
|
some one brought her pot OF daisies from
| Thorby, her old homr--oh, we worry
happy us long as we had her"
us your Aunt Mary like herr"
sin some ways she il, and she is most
| kind To us; but she supports herself by
sewing and is not strong, so lam unwilling
to burden her in the least, We have nothing
| To depend on but the few shillings we get
from the Couriers' Society, of which our
father was mcmbor, and must do some
thing at once. am trying To get place
as nursery Sovcrness, ana Aunt Mary
thinks Lucille can go into Mime. Beck s
establishment in Oxford Street aud learn
dress-making. But | don't wish her to do
that. Sine Is not like me; she is light
hearted and pretty; lhavc kept trouble
from her all | could, and it would distress
| mo To see her getting pale and thin like
many of the girls meet going to and from
| their work there. | have heard much of
America. Do you think if we were there
we could do any better than we can here!
l can sew nicely, and read and speak
French and German, aud l am sure that
could get on well with children; but for II
month L have been looking in vain for n
situation and [ sometimes think there is no
place for us in London"
Mr., Ievaridge had let his paper fall
when Margaret entered, and had hardly
J taken his eyes from her while she spoke,
| He was sitting near me, and now he leaned
| over and asked ii | would not like to soc
| her aunt and sister, and IL | would so to
their house with him in the afternoon. |
readily assented, and turning to Margaret,
| he said:
ave would like to see your friends, Miss
Margaret, aud il you will allow us we will
call upon you this afternoon"
"You will do US great honor, SIR" she
replied, biusbing; then locking at q silver
watch In hor bolt which we had seen her
| father carry, she added: IL have an adj
vertisement to answer at eleven o'clock,
but shall be back by one, and very Crate
full for visit" and dropping curtsey
she slipped away.
AS she went out Mr.. Levcridgc rose and
walked for minute hurriedly up and
| down the room; then in voice trembling
with emotion he exclaimed:
- have never seen any one so much like
my Anne !-stho same hcight-.the same
brown hair and eyes, and quiet ways. And
to think of her alone and triendless in this
| great CITY, Wltn nef young SlSlCT OH ncT
hands-it goes to my heart it goes TO my
heart! Work. 1t is cheer and good living
and fresh air she needs. III l had her at
Oak Bluff she should soon be rosy and mcr-
nv. Let me see, il is now elevcn | must
40 to my banl<cr's, but at two l will come
Tor you, and we will find Horton Street."
With one breath we said as he shut the
door, 40, if he would only carry them back
with him! What a blessed deed to snatch
these two young things from this whirlpool
where so many like them go down, and set
them in the safety of a loving American
homeW
Mr.. Leveridge was punctual to his en-
gagement, and with little trouble we
found Horton Street, which proved to be
ALMOST lane I'm an obscure part OF tho city,
Margaret was evidently watching for us,
for she met us Mt the dodr, looking yet more
attractive now that her shining hair was
uncovered, and her figure seen in all its
slenderncss. We followed her to bare
but neat room ut the back of the house
where she introduced her aunt, n fair-com.
| NIL viz