Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1888-08-24
fHE TIDE LANDS

Miss Vanderpool came down the steps OF
her lodging house, and stood looking about
her with an expression of discomfort on her
high bred face 1t was not very gentea
lodging house, and it was not in very gen
teel quarter. The paint was off in patches,
and one of the faded green blinds hung on
single hinge. The steps were worn, and the
little front area was used as depository for
wood and coal There were pair of dirty
faces at the basement windows, and outside
of the door Sairy Ann, the Gorgeous eldest,
watched her depart with undisguised curl
osity. Possibly she knew that Miss Wander
POOLS rent for her single room, third story,
In the rear, was a week overdue. She might
have been stationed there as a spy by the
Gorgon, her mother, to see that no recreant
lodger contrived to slip off, bag and bag
gage, without formal parting. She need
not give herself any concern on Miss Van
derpool's account, that lady reflected. Her
piano, tho only article Of value among her
possessions, was much too cumbrous to carry,
and it was mortgaged up to its full value.
Why was it that people never exhibited any
conscience or honor about their music teach.
er's bills, as they did about their butchers
and washerwomens Why was it that she,
respected and admired as the rich Miss Van
derpool, could find no market for her accom-
plishments, now that she must earn her daily
bread? Why did every one take advantage
of her and cheat her, down to the pawn
broker who had lately taken the last piece
Of jewelry saved from her financial wreck
She was faint and hungry, and gnawing
pain that was new to her reminded her that
she had lived on bread and water for six
weeks, and that she had been on short ra-
lions for the last few days. If she had been
soldier now, she could have withstood it
right valorously, for there was martial blood
In her veins. But to suffer it for no heroic
reason in nothing but the common way! The
thought Inundated her, and she put it aside.
She was walking down the street, lined
with low cottages, when she stopped before
one of the poorest and meanest, where a
Stunted lilac, just budding in the front yard
gave evidence of some little refinement on
the part of the occupants. But it was not
Ibis that attracted Miss Vanderpools atten-
tion. Floating from the door knob she be-
held little piece of thin. white Grape tied
with narrow ribbon, the wan banner of sor-
row. This was the cottage where the two
little girls had looked out upon her with
laughing faces every day as she passed by.
Only yesterday they had flung her kisses
from the window. Now one was gone. The
shock bore down upon her with all the sense
Of personal loss.
She pushed the gate open and went up the
steps, A woman opened the door and led
her to darkened room. 1t was the custom
of the neighborhood to give free admission to
visitors at such time. In little white
coffin lay the younger of the two children.
Beside it sat the father and mother, the wo-
man sobbing quietly, the father with his arm
about her and in his lap the remaining child,
who had cried herself to sleep in his arms.
81 am so sorry" said Miss Vanderpool,
gently; 'is there anything I can doc"
The moment she spoke she regretted it
| The mother uncovered her face and looked
mp piteously, then shrunk from the strange
| visitor.
Nothing, nothing" she moaned, 'unless
you could bring back my child"
''There, there Emily" said the man, pat
ling her kindly; "don't take on so. It's hard
on all of us. We've got to bear it together. "
Miss Vanderpools eyes were wet as she
| vent silently out of the room and. closed the
| door behind her. 1t had been mistake, her
coming. They had plainly resented the in
trusion. If only she could have done some-
ching for them, could have given them some
testimony of her sympathy. To lose little
life that was part of your very own must be
hard, but doubly hard when poverty and
| want are attendant upon sorrow. The room
had been SO bare. There was not flower
about the coffin Miss Vanderpool had been
accustomed to see grief smothered in costiest
offerings, and this little creature was going
| 10 her last rest without so much as a flower
In her little hands-the tiny hands that had
thrown kisses to her but yesterday.
| She wished that she could get some flowers
Tor that dead baby. 1t was April, and there
were none in the city gardens, just recover
| ing from the shock of a severe eastern win
Ter. She had no money to buy them from a
iorist. Up in the great house on the bluff
that had been her home there was a conser-
Vatory, and in it there was magnificent
climbing rose that she had planted herself,
! years gone by, and nurtured into vigorous
growth. Out of all the riches that she had
| lost at this moment she wished only for one
Of the large pointed buds. with its petals half
nnfolded, shut in little bower of green
leaves But that was out of the question.
| Not even for this sacred purpose could she
ask any favors from the. people in the house
On the hill.
A little later and there would be plenty OF
wild flowers outside the town. The violets
always came first. Nay; it was already the
last of April, and with the soft wind blow
ing and the clear G,lnshine of the past two
weeks, the violets must DO salready out She
4uickened her steps as she Thought A little
brook ran through the town and cut mar
row channel down the bluffs on its way to
The sea. Near the foot of the bluffs there
was narrow bench of land stretching be-
tween the hills and the tide lands, and there
beside the brook she had gathered early
spring violets since childhood If she
walked quickly, she could easily get there
and back again before the night had CLOSED
down.
To reach the place she had to pass through
the business portion of the town. Walking
swiftly along, looking neither to the right
nor left, she was surprised to have some one
accost her.
''Miss VanderpoolI''
1t was John Ashton, whom she had not seer
since the day that she found ner father
name dishonored and herself beggared ane
homeless. He had asked her to be his wifi
and she had refused. Was it because she hae
known him as a poor boy, born i'll the loves
walks of society, while the Vanderpools hat
inherited the wealth and high standing O
many generationsl Or was 1t because sh
elected to bear her poverty and disgrace
alone? She flushed now as she recognized
him.
"One minute" he said.
"Not now. ! cannot watt" she insisted
and he stepped back without word
What could he wish to see her fort Sh
remembered what he had said that time "
you were rich and honored, should hay
been too proud to address you" She ha,
resented the speech then. Recalling it now
she could not help admitting that it di'
honor to John Ashton, She was thinking 0
John Ashton the boy, the little ragged fel
low who used to do chores about her father
house, picking up an education at the publ
schools devoting himself to her service o.
holidays. John Ashton the man was sepa