Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-07-26

embroidery attachment to the machine.
 'Its nothing but 8 pleasure to turn this beautiful thing" said Mrs. Harmon, de- lightedly, as she made the wheels spin around. "and I have regular customers enough to keep me in steady work"
 Isabel had placed sum in the bank also, which, with the insurance, when it came, would cause the widows bank book to pre- sent quite respectable appearance, though this Mrs. Harmon did not discover until after Isabel had gone, and she found the certificate of deposit in an envelope under her pillow.
 Isabel paid reverent visit to the graves of her fair young mother and of faithful Chloe, and with her own hands cleared away the weeds and planted white rose on each sunken mound. A plain monu- ment, bearing the words "My Mother" with the name and date, and 8 plain slab for Chloe's grave was her next labor of love, and she could not help hoping that by some of the strange happenings which so often occur in life some of the Carringtons might chance to find the stone, and by it know that the long-lost daughter of their house was living and had placed it there.
 "Dearl dearl is it possible that you and Harvey have parted so soon?" said Mrs. Stanford, facetiously, as Isabel landed at her door tired and dusty with travel.
 
 parted," replied Isabel, laughingly, keep ing up the illusion, and then she explained the circumstances which had led to her ap- pearance in New York alone.
 A few hours later they were sitting in Mrs. Stanford's own room beside an open grate; it was late September, and Isabel had told her the story of her birth, and Mrs. Stanford had received it as very pleasant revelation, doing away with the cl,o.. rri,~1c i1 nf fha eff oy,1nf al
 "Really quito romance,' she said, ap- provngly, "and, of course, Harvey will spare no pains to find out if the Caring tons are yet living"
 '1 presume so.' replied Isabel, absently. '1 am so anxious to know if my father is living, though it hardly seems probable" The very possibility thrilled her through and through.
 "What mercy that Mrs. Harmon con- trived to keep the locket for you,'' said Mrs. Stanford, turning the precious relic over carefully with critical eyes; dia- mond locket was very gratifying proof of the probable standing of 1sabers family, and she appreciated it accordingly. ''It will be so necessary for you to have some thing with which to prove your identity, if you do find them.'
 "And so you met Mrs. Monteith in Phila- delphia," laughed Mrs. Stanford, ''and she uOuDGlCSS Sue WdS SuOWluS ulc q favor ill crushing you.'
 Mrs. Stanford forgot that Mrs. Monteith had but shown the same spirit she had her. self cherished
 "Really, must contrive to let her hear this delightfully."- romantic story of yours" Mrs. Stanford looked at it in a mercenary and social light only, while Isabers heart was full of the sweet, strange joy of having found out the long-sought knowledge of her parentage, and she changed the subject by telling her sister -in-law her plan in re gard to Lottie Ford. The lady was in facetious humor, and cried, gayly: "I shall expect to hear next that you and Harvey have started an orphan asylum, or at the least an invalids retreat," and she laughed heartily at the brllliancy of her idea. "But | really, joking aside," she added, more seri- ously, Git will be nice for Gracie if the girl | is intelligent and refined, and of course you would not think of the thing otherwise" My dear sister, if you could only recover | from the Idea that a person is necessarily vulgar and ill bred simply because she is poor" said Isabel, with deprecatlng smile.
 "Oh, mother, if you only knew how hard it is for me to lie here and see you doing so much for me-" The speaker was Lottie l room which answered for sitting room, din ing-room and parlor, and watched the patient mother as she polished the bosom of a fine shirt she was ironing, for Mrs. Ford was obliged to do a great deal of fine laun- | dry work now that Lottie was sick and tho | expenses heavier.
 She was a small, spare woman, with Lot ties gentle spirit reflected in her thin face; | it had been pretty once, in the days long, l fIn,, t1,,.ift chanic, brought her to a cozy nest called home, and for many years they were so happy, and the -poverty-kept a re- spectful distance from their door.
 Then trouble came in the form of sick ness and death, and two lovely children were laid in the grave, and Lottie had the fall which resulted ill her lameness, and the little mother was glad to turn her faculty for fine ironing to advantage in helping along, for MT. Ford, though the kndest and most willing of men, was no longer young and strong.
 "Don't fret, Lottie," she said, as she fitted the bosom-board into another shirt ''Let us be thankful that I can get the work t( do; if could only see you getting better could work with a light heart" And she sighed as she went into the little kitchen for a fresh iron.
 "How I wish I might hear from Isabel, said Lottie, as the mother returned. |" have thought of her so much of late''
 "Yes," replied Mrs. Ford, "that basket O. fruit and flowers she sent you cheered an( helped you better than a half-dozen doctors visits"
 'Doubtless she has too many interests il her new life to think of poor Lottie yer. often, though" sighed the daughter.
 At that very moment Mrs. Stanford's owl elegant carriage was at the front of tn
 shabby tenement house, and Isabel, her fac aglow with the delight of meeting he friend again, ran up the stairs, and, as tn door was ajar, she stepped in without knock
 ing, and before Lottie could quite compre
 bend who or what it was, she had her arm
 around the poor, pale little figure, cryin
 joyfully: Hottie, you darling, precious lii
 tie Lottie, I have como to take you hom with me!'
 CHAPTER VIII. sIsabel, dear Isabel, is it indeed you2
 and Lottie looked in the face of her frien with wan delight. 'I was just wishing fo you.'
 'Yes, Mrs. Falconer Lottie has reall