Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1888-12-30
grass and walked along the road beside

with dark hair and eyes. arched eye
brows, a very pale face, q slirl hgure,
and quick, light step.
No house was in sight, but the strength
of the storm was sbating. -,
~ think tie going TO leave Oh, SAID
the Countess (which way we're you
going ?"
I" I don't Know
"Iook here" eaid Mary abruptly. ~
Geo you re in some trouble. Can't help
You? ! will il / can ,
THAT ia a very rash offer, remarked
the little woman IN black.
"Not at all. Please tell me, II you
don't mind, where you are going.
81 have nowhere to go to, since you
insist on an answer. | wish you good
afternoon.
Mary stretched out plump, OBTAINING
hand
Nov don't be offended" she cried ;
al didn't ask yon out OF idle curiosity.
"People never DO ask question out OF
idle curiosity"
"Well, / didn't, at any rate. l
thought-don't be so angry-1 thought
you might come home with me, II you
Lave nowhere else to 90.
Tho other looked at her with prolonged
scrutiny.
"For all you know ! may be-any-
thing and everything that is bad.
:" And for oil you know" echoed the
Countess, with one Of her rare but bril-
liant flashes OF tact, 81 may be-well,
anything and everything that I'm not
too. Come, shall we walk back ?
With a sudden gesture of confidence
the other turned to her.
"You are good" she said. 81 will
tell you all about myself-mF name Is
Emden.
"You shall tell me everything you
think you can trust me with by-and-by
when you are rested. Let's talk about
the weather till then.
And she stepped forward briskly.
That evening in Il cool, flower-scented
drawing-rOOm the Countess heard Jean
Emden's story-a story too sad and too
common a story Of n weary fight against
poverty, wherein poverty always won.
Only father had genius" she said
proudly. "He wrote nearly sixty vol
umes of prose and verse. He was a
friend Of Lady BlessingtoD's and used
TO know oil tue people in her set 4; but
when he grew old his friends had died
or forgotten him and ne could not get q
pension, and We got poorer and poorer,
and have worked at anything could
get. and a year ago he died, and have
done all ! could since then. j have done
plain sewing and / have sent stories to
every MAGAZINE in London, ! DO believe,
hut / suppose / write too badly, for
they're always returned Oh IL has
been hard, aud he had a paupcrs iu-
neral ut last
nore she broke down and buried her
face ia her hands. The Countess
touched her on the shoulder and said
90 women always do under such ciTcum-
stances
" Don't cry
Presently John Emden's daughter
went on with her story how she had
fallen into deeper poverty when her
fathers death had removed her chief in
ccutive to work. How at last, unable to
pay her rent. which had not been paid
Tor three weeks, she left her boxes as
hostages, and came hopeless y away from
London.
81 thought would come away and
have done with il.
She did not explain further, nor did
Mary seek an explanation. She laid her
hand on hers with the commonplace
question
Was there anything valuable in your
hoxes?"
Miss Fmdcn laughed. "Poor Mrs.
Fry she said "she Will only find re-
jected manuscripts and unless she eau
command bcttermsrket than ! though
there's aways the buttcrnan, Of course.
1--WE will get them back give me the
address, and tomorrow We viii talk
things over. Good night my dear"
Jean Emden went 10 sleep that night,
her whole being suilused with glow OF
gratitude to the woman who had taken
her without fear OF question brought
her home.
"Ialking thinesovcr - next day ended
in Miss fmdcns being installed as useful
companion to the Countess, with an an
pie salary, another set OF links in the
chain OF gratitude. The boxes with
their precious manuscripts were redeem
ed another link. But the final riveting
Of tho chain was done when the Countess
caused monument 10 be raised
TO the Menory 81
JOHN ENpRG--f
bearing further n Mandatory inscription
and a list OF his "siXty books IN prose
and verse,
When Jean Emden returned from
Kensal Green (whither the Countess had
sent her IN the carriage) she entered the
room where Mary COR May as sho called
HERSELF sat alone, and running to her
kneelcd at her feet.
Thank YOU thank You she cried
taking the fat hands and covering them
with Kisses you are better than any
thing IN the world. Let me do things
for you; find plenty of things that can
do-not to repay you, but to ease my
own heart.
Mary, much moved. kissed her, and,
deprecating the idea that she had done
any thing "out of the way" promised to
give her companion ample opportunity
of repaying "any little kindness she had
had IT in her power to show.
She was as good "a her word. As the
days and weeks went on these oppOrtu-
mites became more and more frequent,
till Miss Emden, like all her predeces-
sors, found that her whole life was given
up 10 the Countess. But, unlike her
predecessors, she rejoiced aud eloried in
II, and Mary felt the difference between
the grudging payment OF hired service
and the free gift OF the service of love.
Miss Emden had been for three months
an inmate of the pretty house at Hamp-
stead. when tho Countess received on
her birthday. among some half hundred
costly bouquets and brilliant useless
nesses, the following verses:
"But such a one on such a day
NhHf islt can bring,
NoN our summer can my spring
Make fering say1
"Ihe brigh.sst gems that can bring
Show. 10y your beauty, gray,
Too pooC the flowers that dock my way
To ask your gathering.
"But near you, round You. Lady May,
Ny heart goes wandering,
while autumn Winds are whispering