Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-10-05
Place, directly across the street from your

Place. directly across the street from your
hotel
Mrs. Clement Markham to Mrs winthrop Ire
mont, Boston:
ST.. JupR' q REcroRY. MrNSkAPeLIs, SEP tsmber %.
Dear Aunt Lucy.-ws left New York early
last Monday, and by Tuesday night We were
once more safe and together here II our own
journey, except that we nearly missed our con-
nection at Syracuse (whers we left the parior
car for the slecpsr) by getting on the wrong
train. Fortunately dear Clement found out
his mistake just in time.
had not the energy to do more than tele-
graph you from New York that all our troubles
we're ended l was too much upset BY the
agony that I had been through to write. IL
Was a very dreadful two DAYS. dear Aunt Lucy;
the most dreadful-especially the second day
and the last night-that I have ever known.
And dear Clement suffered even more than l
Odd, Tor knew at least that he was alive. and
ne knew absolutely nothing about me at ali. Ii
all seems now like Q horrible dream, and when
shut my eyes and think about il I turn giddy
and feel sick and faint You cannot possibly
imagine, dear Aunt Lucy, how utterly, utterly
dreadful ii all wasi
Ii 1t had not been SO very dreadful il would
have been little absurd, think. for, YOU
know, all the while that We were in such terri
| other we actually could have opened eur win
dows and talked to each other just across she
street. As found out. when at last dear Glenn
ent came to me, his room in the Brevoort house
was directly opposite my apartment at No. 60
Clinton Place. Was it not strange? And what
was still stranger dear Aunt Lucy, was that the
very morning that our agony ended happened
- look across the street, and there, hanging
beside an open window OF the hotel, saw .
lovely chasuble that knew must belong to
some clergyman, and il made me think OF the
chasuble that Clement had written he had
bought in London-and it really was that very
| chasuble, you know. for Clement had hung it
there to get the creases out of it-and seeing
| 1t set me into a perfect agony OF grief for l
| thought that never to see my dear hus-
band again, and that my children were father
| less and that 1 was widow, and that there
was nothing left for me in the world but the
blacklist despair. And il was while 1 was cry
IN. my very heart out that there was knock
! at the door, and then, in q single instant, all
| my sorrow was ended Is found myself once
| more in dear Clements arms.
| Yesterday dear Clement preached a beautiful
sermon about mans liability to error and the
| mysterious ways through which human error
/ proyidentially is set right. 1t was a very i'm
pressive sermon. In the service he wore his
| new chasuble. It is exceedingly becoming.
| Everybody was very much moved by the ser
mon; and was moved, of course, most OF all.
could not help crying. Dear Clements voice
trembied once or twice, and saw that there
were tears in his eyes. The gloves are perfect
and the stockings really too good to be true.
| They are open work over the ankles and three
Of the six pairs are ribbed. wish that could
| tell you what a queer time dear Clement had
when he was buying them. He bought
| them in a French shop in Paris, you
| know; and when he asked for stock
ings with narrow ankles, the young woman who
] was waiting on him But it will be better to
wait until can tell it to you. 1t was very
| funny. And the very best Of all. dear Aunt
| Lucy, is that the surprise that Clement would
not write to me about is the silk for a new
black silk dress! 1t is lovely quality. 1 do
wish that you could have heard Clements beau
tiful sermon yesterday, and that you could
have seen how handsome he looked in his new
chasuble. The weather today is very warm.
The children are wonderfully well-Fron,
| Hd,pe7's Ueeklu