Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1885-10-09


tagging steps, | departed on my
hateful errand. All our things ha d
been sold, we had preferred tolose
them to going into that last dis
graceful refuge of the destitute, a
London pawnbrOker's.
Arrived outside, | paced to and
fro, until my tottering limbs, weak
from illness and continual fasting,
warned me that my strength would
not hold out much longer.
l entered. Only one other per-
son, tall, dark gentleman, whose
face | could not see in the semi
darkness, stood there talking to
the shopman.
Il tell you, my mau, the plate is
here. 1t has been traced by clev-
er detective, who will join me here
IN a few minutes. He is only de-
laying because he thinks he has
traced the thief, and has gone to
follow up the search
'Well sir, | am sure you are mis-
taken, but my principle will be here
in a few moments, you must talk to
him. What can lido for you, young
woman ? he asked, turning to me
somewhat eagerly, evidently glad
of an excuse to evade his unpleas-
ant visitors conversation.
Unable to speak, | drew forth my
treasure. The shopkeeper looked
suspiciously at me as he took it up
and tested it.
Your name and address, please,
he said, sharply. 'And how much
do you want''
Il want "a little money, if you
please | faltered.
+ AS I spoke the gentleman turned
and l could feel a pair of bright,
keen eyes scanning my pale face.
grew more helplessly confused,
my tongue refused to utter a word.
Tell the shopman how much You
want, and your name, my good
GIRL he said in kind and pittying
tOne.'
Then, for the first time, | raised
my eyes to his face, feeling that |
had found a friend. Merciful
Heaven was | dreaming, or had
INV late troubles driven reason from
my brain, and filled it with delusive
fancies.
Surely there stood the original of
Aunt Betsy's portrait, ,butno young
and stalwart as he had been forty
years ago, when it was taken.
In vain | tried to speak. could
only point helplessly to the por-
trait the shop with its occupants
and its contents swan around me,
and with a cry for help, sank
fainting to the ground.
When next awOke to conscious
ness, | was lying OH an improvised
bed on an old couch in our sitting
room at home. | moved my head,
it felt weak and sore. Then | tried
to lift my hands, but to my sur
prise was powerless to do so. y
woman, plainly dressed, with a kind
motherly face, was sitting near me,
and rose as | moved.
| looked around bewildered.
Mamma . | called teebly.
Hrsh, hush, my dear miss, said
the kind.loOking woman, soothing
ly. you must not speak your
mamma is asleep and you might
wake her.
So lay still, wondering weakly
who she was and who had sent her
there but presently, seeing her
stir the fire into a blaze, | forgot
her caution, as all my old anxieties
came back, and said pleadingly {:
Don't poke the fire, please. 1t
will burn out too quickly, aud we
have no more Goals
'Oh, now, miss, you have been
dreaming. The cellar is nearly
full, the Goals only came in last
week.
Again essayed to answer, but
was so gently, yet with such
authority ordered to be quiet, that
I was glad to obey, so | lay still
ENJOYING the sensation of being not
able to think. In a day or two
grew stronger, and one morning,
to my delight, my mother came in,
and L had leave given me to talk a
little.
Then heard all about my late
adventure.
ut was really most wonderful
event, my dear, and reads like a
chapter out Of q three-vOlume
novel; said my mother, who, by
the way, looked quite bright and
strong again. 'When you fell
down in faint, you let fall the
envelope in which you had carried
the miniature, aud the gentleman
who was in the shop HfI
Il remember him, mamma, l
cried, excitedly, Che was the very
image of the portrait. | fancied |
must be dreaming.
That is the strangest part Of the
story, but you won't let me tell it
to you properly, my dear. That
gentleman saw your name and ad
dress, brought you home in a cat
sent in a nurse, and everything Ee