Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1889-01-06

net-as IL walked along the country roads
that lead away from Hampstead toward
Harrow
one hot Jure afternoon TIE Counties
had been talking at high pressure for a
good hour 90 the author of rev Socialist
novel, who had gone away undecided
whether she had not a thor ough knowledge
of the principles Of political economy
She had also received an offer Of marrisgs
from a sporting nobleman, for whom she
entertained a kindly feeling, and hsd re-
fused 10 on the groaud thst be had no
ideals" His reply, that his ideal stood
before him 40 that moment, pleased but
did not soften her she dismissed him,
aad imme iiataly felt q ns-d for complete
change of Ecene.
Half az hour later she was walking
sl-ng o country road at a swing pace,
which was, 70 the gaia Of her women
friends, what the pace Of the sheep dog is
20 that Of the supeunuatsd top terrier
The day was hot the roads were dusty.
Ihe SKY was blue, bat for the black cloud
bank in the north Presently the cloud
bank spread, the sky grew gray, the sun
was covered, the birds stopped singing,
the tlunder pealed ard the rain came down
hy The pailiuL
The Countess kept up her sunshade snd
waised Oh; she bad not pWsed any house
for some time. aud she concluded that she
would reach house shelter sooner by going
on than hy turning back.
AS she walked shs saw tbrou sh the rain
q small figure leaning against a tree. She
passed it, hall stopped, hesitatsd, and went
back.
Excuse me-" she said, 'but do you
bnow its dangerous to stand under trees
I'm o storm2'
The small woman who stO-d there
turned her dark eyes upon the spesker AID
said.
81 don't care"
"Oh, very well, yo1 know your own
business bsst," Mary answered, and
walked on in q huff. Bat again she
turnei-she never did know her own
mind-and said, persuAsigely:
81 think there's a cottage not far dOw0
won't Won come and shelter there I'd
ol.r you half my suushaie, but it's wet
through
Here she laug cd, showing her teeth.
An this time ths rain was pouring
down The road was a network Of little
streams and poole
Tne woman uuder The tree locked at the
Other With an expression OF extreme re-
puguance.
Come elong, said Madame de Viller-
may, iu her loud, hearty voice, and held
ont her hand with q gesture Of invitation
TIA other woman froWned, half drew back
and then came across the wet grass and
walked along The road be ids her.
Mary felt interested That l don't
care suggested a romance As they walk
cd along mo- silence she looked at her COM
panio1-a small person in black with
dark hair and eyes, archcd eyebrows, q
very pale face, a slim figure and quick
light step.
No house was in sight, but the strength
OF the storm was abating.
OF think IT'S going to leave of, said
the Countess (which way were you
goin8|
Il don't know"
'Look here said Mary abruptly, 81
see you're in some trouble. Can't l help
Won? VIII if 1 can"
That is very rash Offer remarked
the little woman in black.
''Not at all Please tell me, if you don't
mind, where you are going
'l have nowhere to 20 TO, since you in
sist on an answer. wish you good aftes-
NOM
Mary stretched out a plump OBTAINING
hand.
'Now don't be offended, she cried; 81
didn't ask You out Of idle curiosity
people never do ask a question out Of
idle curiosity
"Well I didn't at any rate. ! thought
don be TO angry thought you might
come home with me, if you have nowhere
else 20 90.
The other looked e. her with prolonged
scrutiny.
"F0r al you know I msy bs-anything
and everything that is bad.'
"And fer all You know echoed the
Countess, With one of her rare but brilliant
flashes of tact, 81 may be-well, anything
and everything that 1 m nOt-tCo. Come,
shall we walk backy'
With q sudden gesture Of confidence the
other turned TO her.
"You are good, she said. II viii tell
you an about myself name is En-
den 30
"You shall tell mo everything you
think you can trust me With, by aud by,
when YOU ars rested. Let's talk about
the weather TIL then. ~
And she stepped forward briskly.
Thst evening, in a COOL fowsr-scented
drawing room the Countess heard Jean
Emden's story. A story too sad and too
common. A story Of a weary fight against
poverty, wherein poverty always Won.
"My father had genius" she said
"He wrote nearly sixty volumes
f, + prose and verse. He Was a friend Of
Lady BlsssingtOn's and used to know all
the people in ner set; but when he grew
old his friends had died or forgotten him
and be could not get pension, aud we got
poorer aud poorer, and have worked at
anything could get, aud yesr ago he
died, aud i have done all / could since
then. ] have done plain sewing and 1
have sent stories TO every magazine in
London. / do believe, but I suppose
write too badly, for they'r re always return
cd Oh, 10 has bsel hard, and he had a
pluper's funeral 40 lastn
Here she broke down and buried her
face in her hands The Countess touched
her on the shoulder and said-as women
always 90 uader the circumstances
"Don't cryn
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 incentive to work
How at last, unable to pay her rent, which
mad not bsen paid for three weeks, she left
her boxes ss hostages, and came hopslessly
away from London
"I thought 1 would come away and have
done with IT,
She did not explain further, nor did
Mary seek an explanation She laid her
hand on hers with the commonplace ques-
ton