The Washington critic. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1885-1888, 1885-09-08
INV ESTMENT.
'Elsio I

HdSlly 10 nti lctl 'uN ndl nVt hColh
him come in, and was kneeling beside
great arm chair sobbing as If her
heart would break.
con, Walter I" she said "Auut Ju-
LID" and fresh burst of sob5 in
tcrruptcd her.
Walters face cleared Vt was not
sorrow of her own, then, that over
whclmcd this pretty bluc-eycd darling
he had married six months before.
"Wcll, Elsie he said taking her in
his arms and carrcssing her, "whnt
about Aunt Juliay DO not sob so, dear;
you will make yourself ILL.,"
"Thc fire" said Elsie, Keeping her
sobs somewhat more under control.
"Nou know | was very much worried
when heard of 1t, for ! could not tell
by the papers whether Aunt Julia's
house was in the burnt district Or not
For the great Chicago fire was not Il
week old, and the whole country
watched for news.
"Woll, dear" said Walter, kindly.
ut is as bad as 1t can be, Walter.
Aunt Julia writes to me that her house
was totally destroyed, her very cloth
ing burned up, and her insurance
papers not entirely made out. She is
absolutely without anything in the
world except the clothes she had on.
Actually fed by charity. Oh, Walter
Here the sObs came again, thick aud
fast, and Walter could offer no comfort,
but such as was conveyed by silent
Caresscs. After time these were SO far
clTectual that Elsie could speak more
calmly.
Now, little one, said Walter, tell
me why this troubles you so sorelyy
Do you love your aunt so very dearly
"Shc has been everything II mother
could be to me since my parents died,
| Walter. But while | was with her We
were very poor. Out of her own
scanty means she fed, clothed and
| educated me until took the situation
of nursery ,govcrncss to your aunts
| children and married you. But Just
before we were married an old friend
of Aunt Julia's died in Chicago AMI
left her $4,000. When she went to
claim her legacy she saw the house she
purchased and liked il so much she
bought it, her legacy covering expense
of house, lot and furniture, while her
own little income would support her.
But, unfortunately, she was persuaded
to draw out her tiny fortune and invest
it in two lots adjoining her house Now
everything is swept away"
"She took care of you when you
were a child p
"For II years, Walter, denying her
self TO feed and clothe me.
Walter did not speak again for
several minutes, holding Elsie close in
his arms. AT last he said, very gravely:
"If were rich man, Elsie, | would
not think in a case like this, but say at
once, bring your Aunt here But
you know, little wife, my salary,
though sufficient for all our wants,
with margin for pleasure and saving
ncst-egg, is yet not large. If | in
vite your aunt here, the difference of
expense must fall most heavily upon
you, because | cannot give you many
pleasures you now enjoy If have one
more to support. Concerts and jew
elry, little gifts and pleasures, will BE-
beyond our means then. But if you
will be happier knowing your aunt has
a home, will go myself to Chicago
and bring her here"
"Oh, Walter, how kind, how gencr-
Gus you are will never be able to
thank you.
Then | am to go. All right. !
will get leave of absence tomorrow.
In the meantime, | will telegraph your
aunt to meet me at the depot, if she
has sent any address.
"The address is the lawyers who
arranged her legacy for her, and who
did not live in the burnt district, Morse
, & Hunter"
A few days later, as fast as steam
would carry Walter to Chicago and
, back, Elsie was waiting to welcome
, the travellers. A telegram had in
formed her that Walter had found
Aunt Julia waiting at the depot, and
t by what train to expect him home
4 The only spare room in the pretty
= little house at Harlem, where Walter
had brought his bride, was in dainty
: order. Jennie, the servant, was cook
Il ing the choicest supper Elsie could de
wise, and the little wife herself neatly
/ dressed, was running to the door every
( minute watching for the carriage.
Y 1t came ut last and Walter handed
n out lady. Poor Elsie felt fairly sicl
{ as the guest tottcred rather than walked
G into the room. She was white as ashes
y her hair, Elsie remembered black as
a coal not one year before, streaked will
,, gray, and her eyes sunlen as if will
# long illness. When the waterproof
o cloak fell from her shoulders he
= shabby dress was most unlike Aun
n Julia's habitual neatness. But the frs
!, shock Of surprise over Elsie had n
u words too loving to welcome her aunt
!. while soft, tender kisses fell fast upo
!, the pale face.
e she is very tired, Elsie" Waite
st whispered, seeing how vainly the whit
Is lips tried to frame words. Get her I
rs rest, dear, as soon rs you can"
o. So Elsie, tearfully, lovingly, mad
her aunt lie upon the lounge, and the
brought her the most tempting of tea
e trays, stopping the broken words c
g thanks by kisses and caresscs, Waite,
5, too, by II hundred delicate attention
d and few spoken words, made tn
T. guest feel that she was most cordial
a and gladly welcomed
"a In her own room Aunt Julia toll
or Elsie something of the horrors tn,
20 had aged her more in one fortnigl
than in any previous two years of he
TX life. She had slept upon the grounC
sc in drcnching rain for two night
is then in a tent with no change of clotl
Re ing, and the memory of the fire terro
~ y to haunt her. She had begged IL
,e stamp to write to Elsie Then 81
/. told Of Walters tender care of her @
IN the long journey, when she, racked l
n, pain, often could not speak for hour
how like son he had cared for h
III comfort, 1t was sad story, Al
as Elsics tears fell fast.
:" But now" she said "you are
bo home. | have just put undercloth
en- and loose wrappers in here, Aunt
nd until we can have some dresses litte
IN Let me undress you now"
st Gently and tenderly the shabl
clothes were removed, the weary fc