Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1886-12-08

n score called ,Harloe row, In street
not far from Beekman place. 1t is a
quiet spot, given over to modest dwell
ings, and in the river just beyond lies
Blackwell's island, with its great gray
buildings. The avenue about here is
lined with vulgar little shops, and the
owners, not a few OF whom are Ger
mans, lounge in the doorways, lightly
clad in only shirt and trousers when the
weather is warm, while their wives sit
by the opened windows above, and arc
on the alert to speak harsh words to the
children playing on the sidewalk. A
groggery, with group of idlers about it,
or a butcher-shop with carcasses of calves
and pigs suspended in the windows TO
tempt feeble appetite, is on every cor
ner. Up and down jingle the eternal
horse-cars, and great drays rumble over
the stone pavement from daybreak .
dark. The very policemen have caught
something of the bedraggled look OF the
neighborhood, and seem far-away cous-
ms to the neat, white-gloved wearers OF
the uniform who pilot ladies through
the throng of carriages below Madison
square. And Madison square is nearly
as foreign to the people OF the First av-
enue as Mayfall or the Faubourg St.
Germain.
In Harloe row, just around the corner,
noise and squalor give way to peace and
decency, and the people who dwell in
the neat brick houses hold their
heads rather high when they cross
the avenue. Mrs. Terry, with whom
the Valreys boarded, was widow, who,
if she had not seen better days, had at
least never seen any worse ones, and
prided herself somewhat on her gentil-
ity, which to the outward eye consisted
chiefly in going to church dressed in
black silk. Her house was too small to
accommodate many boarders, and she
was very particular about those whom
she fed and lodged. She could go to
bed soothed by sense Of perfect secur-
ity and unimpeachablo decorum, sure
that no FOSTERING clerk would stumble
up her narrow staircase after midnight.
The Valrcys occupied three tiny rooms
on the third floor, and on the second
were the Kanes, h sedate elderly floor
walker and his bed-ridden wife. There
was room for one more boarder, and
Mr.. Kane had spoken about young
man of his acquaintance who would be
glad to become a member of the family;
but Mrs. Terry did not like the idea of a
young man, although she finally con-
sented to receive this one on trial for a
fortnight
"Mind you," she said, ''if smell
whisky about him, out he COOS. won't
have any cigarette-smoking, hecr-drink-
ing boys in my house"
1t may be added just here that the
late Mr.. Terry had not been sober for O
month before death cut him down in the
bloom of manhood.
In the same car with the Valreys is a
young man whose dress indicates he has
no mother, nor wife, nor sister to per-
form those little services of fastening q
button hanging by the eyelids, or mend
ing u shabby coat
When the car stopped to let her and
her father alight the young man alight-
ed too, and followed them up the street
to Harloe row, even to the widow Terry
door. There M. Valrey turned to look
sharply at him, and taking off his hat,
the young man said, his face reddening
again:
This is Mrs. Terry's house, unless 1
have made mistake in the number. l
am coming here to board. You may have
heard Mr.. Kane speak of me-Langmuir
is my name, Hugh Langmuir.
His eyes met Pauline's with a wistful
entreaty, and she smiled little. So
she and he came face TO face for the first
time, and in the minute that they stood
on the doorstep their hearts went out
to each other in sympathy. They were
both poor, both young, and to both the
reckoning future held forth vague
promises.
And this is the prologue Of IA Step
Aside" Hugh Langmuir says at the
Terry dinner table after honestly in
gratiating himself with his fellow
boarders, that the first week he was in
New York he was mortally afraid that
somebody might suspect how "green
and country" he was. But in fact he
is a good sort of lad, Though the son
of clergyman" and bright and chatty,
and he soon wins favor even with Mrs.
Terry, and does not 60 up to his room
directly after dinner as he had been
wont TO do; and he fingered awhile in
the parlor where Mrs. Terry and the
Valreys spent the evenings. 1t was
hideous little room, with green and
red carpet and staring white walls.
The pictures were mostly photographs
of the Terry family. enclosed in shiny
black frames. There was some artistic
waxwork-a cross with q wreath of
flowers, standing on bracket in the
corner, and beneath it little marble
topped table held CHASTITY water lilies,
which were protected from the dust by
a glass shade. What saved the room
from being q nightmare was the large
table in the middle, covered with q
cheerful crimson cloth. The green rep
armchairs had we'll worn, comforta-
BILE look, too; and when Mrs. Terry and
Pauline sat sewing by the drop light,
and Papa Valrey, who always turned
his back to them so that the light came
over his left shoulder, and always ex-
planned and apologized, sat near with
newspaper, the little group looked
pleasant and homelike to the lonesome
boy.
In this shabby clearinghouse Pauline
looks like creature from some other
sphere to Hugh, and it seemed when he
brought her few Christmas roses for
her dress as though she had right to
all the roses in the world. He could not
see fat old woman lolling back in a
carriage without fierce impulse rising
up in his heart to pull her off those satin
cushions and put Pauline in her place.
He hardly knew that he loved her, yet
she had taken root in his dreams; he
pictured her the heiress of beautiful
home, sitting at the head of table, q
liveried servant behind her chair. he
saw her dispensing gracious hospitality,
driven out in her carriage, walking
about a conservatory, wearing fine laces
and rare jewels. II he could give her
all thisl The thought intoxicated him,
and M he watches ber fasten tho roeoa