Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-07-16

wns soon cheerful again, there m the neat. bright room, with the patient mother who had been helpless for twenty years, and the brave, loving daughter who so gladly works for and waits upon her. I am able sometimes to help Rachel in her work; was able then, and we sat and sewed quite merrlly. She praises me, and says my taste IS worth much to her but know she only says it to make me believe that my golng so often to them is no hindrance, as l often fear, but help.
 suppose it was my speaking of her having no help in her work that put it into her head to tell me the sad, little history of her adopted child. She had wanted to tell me for some time, she said; and knew why afterward, when she came to Eustace Jelfreys name.
 Years ago, Rachel and her mother were staying for a month at ths seaside, for the mothers sake (whom the paraly- sis had just then left helpiess); and while they were there a circus entered the town, and the procession rode in state past their door. A little performer, & beautiful fairy.like girl riding alone in the midst, won Rachefs admiration. She smiled at her, and the child smiled in return and at that very moment the horse shied, and she fell,
 Rachel did not quite understand how it was done but in a few minutes the little girl lay on her bed, and the doctor had forbidden her to be moved. She won Rachels heart entirely, and Rachel nursed her as willingly, if not so loving Iy. as she was nursing her helpless mother. The child's recovery was very tedious, and the circus company were A. laoS,n Al,n ,Nlona xr-sfhO.1f hay was understood that she was tofollow; but when she had recovered sufficiently to do so, she pleaded so hard for Rachel to keep her, that Rachel hadn't it in her heart to refuse, though che had many doubts that the girl would fret by-and- by, and chafe at the quiet of her life. But she cried that she never could; and so she staid with Rachel, and was, as she said, her adopted child.
 She had been called in the circus, Rosette; but Rachel and her mother always called her little Rose, even when she grew up. And Rachel says she was just like a little rose, and that they could never bear her to walk alone, even into the adjoining streets and squares where she would work. So Rachel nearly always went too, even though her time was valuable.
 But one evening Rose happened to be leaving a house in Hanover Square, when Eustace Jeffrey was leaving it too, and as it was raining, and she had no umbrella, and he had, he took her home, finding out on the way that she was go- ing to the same place next morning. She laughed over the meeting as she told them of it that night; but Rachel could not. The tears were thick in her eyes when she told me how, from that night, he wooed their little Rose; how he mar ried her; then let her come home to them just to bid them good-by, on con- dition that she should then drop all con- nection with them.
 And she had done so. Rachel has never seen her since, and that happened five years ago. She thinks she shall never see her again.
 She sometimes meets Mir. Jeffrey, and asks about her; but he never deigns her reply, only passes her with bow. He does not know that Rachel lodges now above us. I wonder whether he would come here so often as he does, if he did know. I shall tell Gerard of this when have a good opportunity I'm sure he ought to know.
 I wonder whether the poor, pretty child to whom Rachel was so kind had any living relations in the world. Rachel says she used to talk about a mother whom see dimly remembered, but she did not even know that mothers s name, and all that she possessed which could possibly lead to identification was an old gilded locket, with a twist of hair on either side, and under one, which was evidently a woman's hair, was written '<Dorcas," " and under the other, mans short curl, was written "Jessie." That was all, and how could that ever lead to the discovery of the girls parentageP Rachel's little story set me wondering. Is there any one now in the wide world |, recalling longingly, and searching vain ly for the pretty child who was so grate- full to those who rescued her from the life she could not bear Is there any one who would grieve to think of her as Eustace Jelfrey's wife; and would rather feel that the bright-faced child they had lost was living even now that Life above, in which they can join her, than that she lives Ca woman with a woman's cares) Q life here in which none of those, even 1 who love her best, can participate? Ah me how terribly, terribly lonely must be the life of a neglected or an unloved wife because, if she is true and brave, she herself shuts out all sympathy.
 It was after Rachel had told me this that I took courage to ask her what have been longing to ask for some time l whether, among those she worked for, she knows any one who wants daily governess, and would be at all likely to engage me. She advised me to give up the idea, as guessed she would but l overxuled all her objections, and then she could tell me that Q lady in Upper
 Brook street, to whose house she often goes to sew, is anxious, as she knows. to meet with some one who would go fol
 a few hours every morning to read with
 her only daughter, who is too delicate
 for constant or hard study.
 was so glad to hear all this; and this
 morning called on Mrs. Esdaile. Ever
 without 0 testimonial she engaged me
 I suppose she would have been more
 particular if had been going to live il
 the house-and then, after it was all de
 cided, I told Gerard; for I knew ht | vUould Sfor ma # lat him knou hafOra