Morris tribune., 1884-02-06
ROSE AMBLER.
A Romance in the Life of the
Murdered Girl.
How She Was WOoed and WON Dy
Capt. Brown, the Sailor, who
Went Away and Did Net
Keep His Promise.

EASep 1AhS HTO1NlSS'
bridgeport, Conn.,, Letter in ~ Y. sum-
Two or three days ago The Sun reporter
waited in Stratford'S little depot for a delayed
railroad train to take him over to Bridgeport.
An old lady with white shawl and pen
chant for gossip was his companion. ohe
followed the village custom, of course, ano
talked OF the mystery surrounding NOSE
Ambler's death. She had known the lll-tateo
young woman. She knew Capt. clark,
Roses stalwart fisherman father; she knew
Norman Amber, the divorced husband; she
knew William Lewis, the suspected loVefi
she knew, in short, all, or nearly all, OF those
whose names had been brought into the story
of the crime. Recounting "reminiscences OF
each, she gave the newspaper man glance
at a romance that colored Roses early life, a
chapter not hitherto opened to public view.
"When Rose was between Il and Is years
DID," began the old lady, toying with the
fringe of her white shawl, ''she was a beau
tiful girl, so everybody hereabout agreed.
People who only saw her during the last lew
years of her life, since she suffered so much,
could have no idea of the bright, wlnsome
face and comely form of that earlier time.
She was the belle Of Stratford town. A
dozen suitorS sought her favor. To all she
gave the same cordial attention, and all she
dismissed with the same apparent uncon-
Germ. Norman Amber, whose father had
grown rich on war contracts from the gov
eminent, was among the crowd OF
smiles. She cared no more for him
than for Others, SO it seemed, but he was per-
sistent There came to Snattord man
was Rose Clark's senior by dozen years or
more. He had been sailor from his boy
hood, SO he said, but, withal, he had the bear
ing of man who had seen much of good So
ciety and profited by it He was an invalid.
He had been very sick with a fever and had
come to Stratford for recuperation. He
brought little cedar boat, and nearly every
afternoon he was out on the water. He met
Rose at village picnic, and was attracted by
her beauty. She was fascinated by his cul-
ture and by his ready wit. The girl knew how
to manage an oar as did few of the young
men of her acquaintance. Her father had
taught her the art 1t was not unnat-
ural that she and the invalid visitor should
become at first fast friends and then almost
inseparable companions. A large portion OF
their time was spent in boating, she rowing
while he hardly strong enough Tor work, en-
tertained her with stories Of the adventures
in which he had figured in distant lands And
it was natural, too, perhaps, that the glrl,
with q love for romance in her c0mpoSltlon,
soon grew to care more for the invalid sailor
than for all younger beaux Of Stratford,
whose achievements were bound down to
corn-husking bees, and the local ballroom.
One afternoon out on the water there was
sentimental confession, and band OF gold,
bearing a roughly carved coral heart, was
placed upon the black-eyed woman's finger.
She was pledged to be the sailors bride.
Time wore on, and Capt Brown left the
village on long voyage. Rose Clark was to
be his wifaas soon as he returned, and he
was then to 90 to sea no more. A year passed
by, and there came no word from him to her,
though whaling vessels returning reported
that he had been met and was well. Rose
Clark was piqued. She had not yet learned
that patience was among the first OF virtues.
The apparent carelessneSS OF her tar-aWay
lover nettled her, and she determined In a
willful woman,s way to show the little world
in which she moved in Stratford that the
sailors cavalier treatment could not humble
OF embarEaSs her. Norman Ambler's hand
some horses and Norman Amblers shining
carriage began to show itself with sugges-
tive frequency under the naples on the lawn
of Capt, Clark's cottage. Within month
or two the bells of the little Methodist church
of the hamlet rang out merrily, and with
blossoms in her hair Rose walked through q
throng of villagers up the aisle, and heard
pronounced the words which made her Nor
man Ambler's wife.
early one night, month or so after the
wedding, a New York train stopping al
Stratford left single passenger, who, care
less of the observation of the half dozer
oilers at the station, walked away in the
growing darkness. It was the man who il
the last summer time had promised to make
Rose Clark his wife. The next train tool
him from the village. For a little time hi
had seen Norman Ambler's bride, had me
her at her own gate, there to learn for the
first time of her marriage. 1t was stormy
scene that followed, and Rose heard heated
denunciation of her husband, and threats t
do him harm were silenced npIizEa ssnc
duped 50 the allegation leg; tto
went, Lad KndN ny and the where
lore of the trouble Which came suddenly be
tween the sailor and his betrothed, and {
series of circumstances which had misrepre
sented them, each to the other, had been de
vised. not without the jealous lovers cum
ming.
s:But what Rose Amber thought, tn
world never knew; and if she suffered from
any revelation that Capt. Brown had made
concerning an INSCRIPTIONS rivals work, hel
endeavor was to conceal it. It is not i'm
possible, though, that when months latel
William Lewis came to whisper unlzine
things of Norman Amber, he found {
listener who would have been less attentive
had not the seed of suspicion and distrus
been already sown."
:And what became of Browne"
"He died-so we heard" said the old lady
draping her white shawl about her shoulders
and going out from the little stations wait
ing-room to climb upon the cars"
To Ia cen dSrates Rriohf