The Delaware ledger. (Newark, Del.) 1879-19??, 1885-10-03

away with a sigh of regret for my
old happy home, with its quiet free
dom from the daily toll and worry
that were now my portion.
Things welt on from bad to worse
with us, and my twenty-second
birthday found me in despair.
Walter, in despair, had gone to
New Zealand; Lena had married
on a very small income, and gone
TO live in the North. / could not
bend to ask help from Aunt Betsy,
and my mother was i'll and my
work so scarce that l could barely
find us in the necessaries of life.
At last, l too, became i'll, and we
had not a penny in the house
everything we had, even poor mas
engagement ring had gone for food.
"Stella, you must go and get some
money. Mrs. Burton says she will
have the rent by tomorrow, or we
shall have to turn out into the
street. There is-would you mind
dear ?-your Aunt Betsy's present
you could get enough for that to
keep us long time"
mamma dear, l cannot, dare rot
sell it Anything of mine | would
not withhold, but this-oh, don't
ask mel"
"And yet the generous donor has
never sent US the price of a loaf"
said my mother bitterly. swell,
take my wedding ring it has nev-
er been off my finger since your
father put it on twenty-five years
ago; but it must go now.
"No, no, mamma, you must not,
shall not take it off. | will go and
take annt's present, not to sell, but
to the pawnshop then 1 may,
perhaps, get it back when Walter
sends us some money"
With a heavy heart and weary
tagging steps, 1 departed on my
hateful errand. All our things had
been sold, we had preferred to lose
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 Inns, weak
from illness and continual fasting,
warned me that my strengnth
would not hold out much longer.
l entered. Only one other per-
son, a tall dark gentleman, whose
l could not see in the semi-dark-
ness, stood the talking to the shop
man.
81 tell you, my man, the plate is
here. 1t has been traced by a clever
detective, who will join me here in
a few minutes. He is only delay
ing because he thinks he has traced
the thief, and gone to follow up the
search"
"Well, sir, | am sure you are mis-
taken, but my principal will be here
i'll few moments, you must talk
to him. What can | do for you,
young woman ?" he asked, turning
to me somewhat eagerly, evidently
glad of an excuse to evade his un-
pleasant visitors conversation.
Unable to speak, l 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? ?"
1 want "a little money, if you
please" l faltered.
AS 1 spoke the gentleman turned
and l could feel a pair of bright,
keen eyes scanning my pale face,
l 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 a kind and pitying
tone"
Then for the first time, l raised
my eyes to his face, feeling that ]
had found a friend. Merciful
Heavens was l dreaming, or had
my late troubles driven reason from
my brain, and filled it with delusivC
fancies.
Surely there stood the original o.
Aunt Betsy's portrait, but young
and stalwart as he had been forty
years ago, when it was taken.
In vain tried to speak. l coulC
only point helplessly to the por
trait she shop with its occupant:
and its contents swan around me
: and with cry for help, l sanl
fainting to the ground.
When | next arose to conscious
ness, | was lying on an improviseC
bed on an old couch in our sitting
room at home. | moved my head
it felt weak and sore. Then | triet
) to lift my hands, but to my sur
: prise l was powerless to do so.
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