Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1885-11-22

| return that money, and--yes, one thing
more--do YOU mind shaking hands
with me as IL I really we're gentle
many"
| I held out the tips OF my fingers.
Good.by, Mr.. a-a-Allen I! l hope
You NAV reach home safely aud find all
we'll there" I said very politely aud
st;fly. The train stopped, and out he
sprsng, Just escaping my protector,
the guard, who hustled up escorting
two staid. elderly ladies; most unex-
ceptionable fellcw-travellcrs, but who,
| ] secretly rejoiced, had not got in sta
ton earlier.
Two mornings later came note in
handwriting instinctively recognized.
A post.oiiice order for 81, and with
| thanks from a fepentant rufIian, al
ready on the way to deliver himself up
TO the authorities and satisfy outraged
justice"
laughed and half cried as ! read.
Poor fellow What would they do TO
him, wondered? Deserters in books
used to be shot, but didn't think that
was the case nowadays. Then those
clothes at the sacrifice Of great
deal of my dignity / should like to have
written an answer. but dared not. /
put the note away. and forgot all about
il. 1t and he belonged to a part Of my
| life which already seemed separated
by long ages from the dark, cruel
present. A foreshadowing Of ca'am-
ity seemed to seize me direct
" we parted. 1t was the outer
| fringe Of the storm-cloud that had
| already broken over our home. My
poor mother No wonder she wrote
briefly and coDstrainedly. She had no
words to tell me in the midst Of my
pleasure of the ruin that had fallen upon
US. A very everyday story! Who cares
to hear it? Two ignorant women,
speculative trustee, commercial
crisis-that was all. A great quilting
wave of misfortune seemed suddenly
to rise and sweep over US, leaving us
stranded and bare, clutching what
scraps we could save from the wreck.
Kind friends gathered round us, SYM
pathized, counselled, scraped together
more wrecksge, put us in the way
Of beginning life anew. An easy mat
ter for me at nineteen, young, strong,
and enterprisiDg; but for mother at
nine and forty-my gentle. semi-invalid,
delicately-nurtured mother, whose path
through life had been on velvet, to
whom the roughnesses and coarsenesses
Of poor living were as grievous evils
almost minor sins-who had never
seen the inside of an omnibus,
brushed her own hair, or looked
after her own luggage in her
life-our new beginning was as
possible as for an exotic taken from
its dollhouse and given fresh start in
life in hedge-row. Small marvel that
it sLrivels and dies. Women's hearts
don't break for want of balance at
their bankers" Aunt Hesba answer
ed me somewhat harshly when | limited
my misgivings. She was my mothers
step-sister, wealthy, childless, and mar
red. She was very kind to us, allow
ed us 60 week out Of her own privy
purse. and looked out decent lodgings
for us in Camden Town.
don't care to look back on those
days much. Heroines in novels man
age, when ruin overtakes them, to turn
out clever cooks of dainty dishes, to
make their simple dresses fit as no
Do..c.o, ,on1;sto ka1 arap dana md
with artistic fingers and no expenditure,
to convert tawdry clearinghouse parlors
into graceful boudoirs, keeping all the
time their society bloom on them, and
losing no grace or charm in the process.
| couldn't. After weary apprentice
ship did turn out a fair cook, good
substitute for my mothers maid, and
clever administrator Of our small
finances, but had to give body aud mind
to the work. My hands grew red and
my forefDger needle-roughened. |
kept our home fresh i pretty, and
had satisfactory balance-sheet to pre-
sent to Aunt Hesba every Saturday,
when she used to drive over with
hamper Of fruit and flowers and lee
ture on domestic economy but grew
anxious and careworn in the learning.
Other visitors besides Aunt Hesba
found their way TO Camden Town, and
many kind invitations were pressed on
US; but my mother nervously shrank
from o return to the old life, and ! felt
relieved when one by one acquaintance
fell away, the gulf between us was
so great and so impossible.
One day, after enduring a meeting
and recognition by two pretty girls on
horseback, my fellow bridesmaids at
Comics wedding, | caught sight of my
faded, dowdy self in shop-window,
and remembered with start that it
was my twentieth birthday, and that
only a year lay between me and the
DAYS when life was gay, when / danced
and rode, and wore pretty dresses, and
accepted the attentions Of devoted ad-
mirers. Only year, and it all so far
away.
"Minnie, have plan for you-a
birthday treat Aunt Hesba said
ultra-graciously when | arrived home.
"What should you say to fortnight
at the sea-sidep"
A year ago should have danced and
clapped my hands. Now | looked
doubtfnlly at mother, while aunt went
on 1--WE have taken a house on the
Leas at Folkestone for two months.
: Your Uncle Peter cannot get away till
Saturday fortnight; so if you like to
have it mean while you may" Mother
: looked pleased, / thought; so l let
= myself be glad. Then followed busy
, four days. Gowns, relics of last year,
two grotesquely homogeneous with our
e present surroundings to wear now,
0 might ftly be produced there. The
/, sight of pretty things seemed to bright
r en- mothers eyes again. Kind Uncle
Peter squeezed bank-note into my
!. hand one day, saying, "There, mind
: you, enjoy yourselves, ~ and recklessly
s resolved that for one bright fortnight
= at least household economies should 90
1 to the winds.
9 Folkestone! Fresh, breezy, bracing,