The Somerset reporter., 1886-02-17
SELECTED.
IN THE ALTMARkT.


Violet had lost her situation and her
lover when Mrs. Van Buren, called
1--WE just had letter from my old
friend Frau Schillng in Dresden" she
said, "She wants me to find her IL com
panion in America who can sing little
Could anything be moie fortunate? pro-
pose to send you, Violet.
"Iou are very kind to think Of me.
But in order to 90, shall be obliged to
use all the money | have put aside for a
rainy day"
But it is not exactly fair weather now,
is it? Besides it will be capital well in
vested You will see the world. you will
learn German, and you will forget Mr..
Dabney, and perhaps marry German
baron"
~ don't want to marry Il German baron,
but think | will 90, thank YOU"
And the next outward bound German
steamer carried her to Hamburg. Not
knowing a syllable of the German tongue
she engaged young German woman who
was returning home to travel with her to
Dresden, where Frau Schlling met her
She found her situation no sinccure, to
be sure. Frau Schillngs English was so
broken as to he almost beyond repair
Once or twice Violet went out with her
to afternoon tea, where She sat like n
statue, trying with all her might to grasp
the thread of the conversation in vain;
the loneliness of Il stranger in foreign
land, unable to speak the language pos
sessed her. 1t sometimes seemed to her
that she should die unless She could find
somebody to whom she could rchcarSc her
thoughts and trials in good terse English
Frau Schlling lived i'll the eastern part of
the city, i'll Il street leading out of Durer-
strassc. Although it was remote from
the central market places and the shops,
and from almost everything, it made up
from this Inconvenience in being cheap,
but Frau Schllling convinced everybody
that she lived there for the pure air and
the view. OF course the tralnway ran
near, on its way to Blascwitz, but Frau
Schllling and her companion always
walked when they went Quit was SO
much healthier. Violet had been to the
Royal Gallery and the Altmarkt but once
in the convoy of Fran Schilling, when one
afternoon. after she had been a fortnight
in the city ii occurred to her To walk out
alone, and make acquaintance with the
place. 1t was quite late in the day how
ever, before she got started, and the sky
was already deep saffron color in the
west. She remembered that Frau SChil-
ling had conducted her down Durer
strassc, past tlolbcinplatz through the
narrow little ZeigelStraSse, pallsing to
look at the ED Saxon monument at the
corner of the Botanical Garden, where
Death with his hour-glass, stands like a
shadow behind the warrior. The stream
of passers scarcely observed her as she
loitered upon the Terrace of Bruhl and
stopped to count the spires in the Neu-
stadt band was playing in the Belyc-
deere some homesick strain that pursued
her as she went on toward the gilded
groups of statuary that adorn the flight
of steps going upon the SchlossplatZ.
The sunset light was upon everything
a steamer was towing a fleet of barges up
the river; the hills across the Elbe looked
blue and enchanting in the distance, but
it all made her feel more alone and bcrcft.
1t was a fair great world but what did it
signify to her now that John Dabncy had
forgotten her? She crossed the Plat2 and
went slowly up Schlosstrasse and into the
Altmarkt; it was the longest way round
but it was the only way she knew. She
ventured into one or two shops and Strug
glcd to make herself understood vainly
She stopped with the crowd to gaze in at
the windows of II prnt-shop at some cf-
fort of the modern masters, and won.
dered if it was wrong to think them quite
rs satisfactory as some of the master
pieces Frau Schilliag had pointed out to
her in the Royal Gallery; the Altmarkt
was thronged with people; carriages has
tened, who knows where; every one
seemed gay and cheerful; she wished with
all her heart that she kncy IL few of these
pretty women, these kindly matrons, she
Ion ppl bp1r somebody sneak her name