The Penn's Grove record., 1885-06-27
A LUCKY ESCAPE.

worthy, | think, of being told by a
winter fire; but | must iTst explain the
circumstances which led to my becom-
ing the heroine of it.
The death of my father, a clergyman
left my mother with very reduced
means and a large family, of whom |
was the oldest. | was anxious to do
something to help her, but, though |
had had a good plain education and
was well read, L possessed no accom-
plshments. | could neither play the
piano nor draw, and l spoke French
with an accent which | could not fat
ter myself was Partisan. 1t was there
fore difficult to find a place for me the
emoluments of which would enable me
to aid my mother. | vas about, how
ever, to advertise for the post of com
panlon, when a letter reached us from
an aged relative of my fathers which
settled the difficulty for us.
Mrs. Keith, his aunt, had married a
rich man, who, dying, LETT her his es-
tates and wealth; but a quarrel with
her brother my grandfather-had sep
arated her completely from her family,
and we had not heard from her for
years. And now she had written to US
No an unkindly letter.
After the ordinary condolences, she
added that, having understood my
mother had a large family and small
means, she would be happy to receive
the eldest daughter to reside with her
as companion, Il will give her, if she
accepts my offer, thirty pOundsa year."
she added, land, as very little dress is
required in my home-for | see no one
but the doctor and clergymen-she
ought to be able to spare twenty pounds
of that sum to help her family. But
she must remember that my house is a
lonely place far in the country, that
my establishment is small, consisting
of two old and faithful servants and a
younger assistant, and that her life will
be a monotonous routine with only an
aged woman a her companion. If
therefore she is tlmid or fond of gayety
she had better not think of coming
here"
My mother, who was reading the let
ter aloud to me, paused with a look of
dismay.
81 will accept the offer, dearest moth
En-" l said. 81 don't know what fear
is, and Idon't care for gayety, even if
/ were not in such sorrow"
"But, my dear, the salary is so small
and the prospect so dreary; and we
have always heard that Amt Helen is
a perfect miser," demonstrated my
mother.
"But rumor always exaggerates," l
suggested. "She may be nicer than
you think. She seems very straight
forward, and probably a kindly.
If she is a miser, she must for our sakes
have struggled against her besetting
sin; do not let us refuse to accept her
sacrifice of it."
"Well," said my mother, eff you re-
ally think you could like it, you shall
go. We are the sole remaining rela-
tives, and she may, when she knows
more of US, remember your brother
Reginald's claim on her as the last male
of his family"
So ] wrote and accepted Mrs. Keith's
offer; and on a dull November after
noon shortly afterwards l arrived at
her residence.
Seated by the fire of the oom into
which l was ushered was a very old
lady, who extended her hand and well
coined me kindly. AS l took it, she
drew me down and kissed my cheek.
You have a look of my brother
your grandfather-in your face, Lot
tie," she said, ''his quick, keen eye and
smile. l am glad to see you sit down"
After a brief chat, she observed that
she thought l should be glad to take
off my tHaveling-dress, and rang the
bell. On the butler appearing, she de-
sired him to send up Mrs. Wheeler, ad-
ding, as he withdrew
"Wheeler, his wife, and a village lass
are all my establishment, Lottie. l
hope you do not need much attend
ance."
"Ob. mol" l answered. "We have al
ways had to wait upon ourselves, Aunt
Helen.n
She smiled and looked pleased. Mrs.
Wheeler shortly afterward appeared
and led me to my room, which was on
the same floor, but down another COR
ridor opening into the principal one at
right angles. 1t was a large dismal
looking room, containing a four-post
bed with heavy woollen furniture and
curtains, all cleverly embroidered in
crewels, now faded in a manner that
would have delighted the art school,
though probably they had been in their
best days, of brilliant colors. / admir-
ed the work to Mrs. Wheeler"
"Oh, this is nothing to the tapestry
in Mrs. Keith's room, ma'am, if you
would like to see iti' And she led me
across the corridor to room exactly OPP
posite my own. which was hung with
tapestry in a wonderful state of preser-
walton.
was much struck by it, and rather
glad also to find that | should not sleep
alone in this rambling dreary-looking
old mansion, though Mrs. Keith, feeble
and aged, was small protection; and |
learned that only she and l occupied
this part of the house, the servants
sleeping in another wing.
(which l think a mistake of my
lady's," said Mrs. Wheeler, "seeing
that her plate and jewels are all here;
and until now, Miss Corbould, she has
slept here alone ever since Mr.. Keith's
death"
"Her plate and jewels hereS" l ex-
claimed thoughtlessly, CHANGING round
the room, in which l could perceive on.
ly a small wardrobe and a chest of
drawers.
"Yes, ms'am, in a closet behind the
tapestry" and, parting two of the
pieces, she showed me that they cover
ed an oak panelling of rich carving,
which seemed a shame to hide. l then
narnaluad TINT thu ianeafru hmm from