Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-07-18

I Was dimly aware that I promised eO do all this, and that the little father of thS " young ladies" made another appeal to me then to "lower my figure" but that his wife whispered to him that was "Vsry low" and he had better let it rest. Truly I did feel very low then, in Ihis glitter which was not gold.
 And so I was engaged; and I begin any duties next week. Mrs. Raphael that is usual, but I did so hope she would Five 1t back to me, as I could see that it satisfied her entirely. l had not read 1t myself, for I knew it was not for my eyes that Clara had written it.
 Four whole years it is since last sat writing in this room of Rachels. Four years of hard, dull work, of unacknowl- edged service; four years of real heart loneliness. We'll, 1t is over now, and I have other work, and another home once more to seek feeling so tired, even be- fore I begin. But, I must not mind it has to be done, and perhaps this will be the last time. There can surely never be another such a cruel ending as there has beeu to this four years task of mine.
 Inever shall know how they found out all about Gerard and myself. I never shall know anything distinctly about 1t, eACopb AOM bhCA LCPkOaS4C0 u44N NASA4 scofings stabbed me. If they would only have sent me away quietly should not have minded, for have been teaching myself always to be prepared for that : but, oh 1 it was hard to bear the deris- ion and scorn of-such as those.
 Mrs. Raphael wrote at once to Clara's husband-Clara died three years ago telling him that his dead wife had been deceitful and untrue; saying just what such women do say when they let their malice go uncurbed. Was not that an unnecessary insult, to him as well as to me2 But will not write another word about them.
 lam here now, with my life to begin again, and the one letter, which was my only help before, is mine no more. Mrs. Raphael tore it to atoms and burned it in her anger, sneering because a cry escaped me as it blazed. Hard as I tried to suppress that cry, it started from my lips in spite of me.
 can only search the papers now, in engagement at a distance for which I may apply and how closely I search them, sitting here alone!
 Rachel is living for this month at house in Berkeley Square. The family being out of town, and the woman who has before been left in charge having proved dishonest, they have asked Rachel to stay there until the season begins.
 I go to her every day, and we sit to- gether sewing through the evening, but I am alone here at the old rooms until then. She never comes to me she says the walk, short as it Is, does me good, and she is sure to be right. So I go, and she brings me back, and we walk as slowly as we can, and cheer each other, and notice how the evenings are length ening.
 And so that day is over, and tomorrow the papers come, and it begins all over again.
 What e strange thing it is to be ex- pecting one cert4en letter on which all ones future hangs My future, indeed my long, long future-seems to hang upon the answer which will come from Highshire, and which may come now by ar post. Is it any wonder that watch fo: the hour so eagerly? And yet, look ing back upon my deceit, is it any won der that watch for it with pain
 This is how it was. saw the adver- tisement. and in a moment my heart began to beat with a quick, wild hope. One hundred pounds year, simply to be companion to a lady,
 felt strange, incomprehensible re- liance on my own power, and answered it at once; I could not bear the delay of an hour, though knew I should keep the letter open to take to Rachel. I did not write much-I almost think my heart was too full-but an answer came back to me. expressing satisfaction with all had said, and asking for my refer ence.
 Then knew had written to Lady Athelston, and my heart failed me. Could I go to live so in my fathers house?
 All that day kept the letter hidden in my breast, and had not courage to show it to Rachel. But it was all told afterward, and then Rachel made her plan. l was to write to Lady Athelston, referring her to "Mrs. M'Mullen, No. IS Berkeley Square," This address would sound we'll; the letter would reach Ra- chel straightforwardly, and she would answer it.
 She did-writing as pretty and lady like letter as any inhabitant of the square could do-and for the answer to that let ter l am waiting now. I cannot work or eat or sleep.
 Is it right to have accepted situation with Lady Athelston 2 She was Sir Ge- rard's widow, married to him for just one month; and her son now-not his son, though, oh, no, 2ot his-is the Baronet of High Athelston. I have never writ ten the names before to-day, since that night, nearly five years ago, when Aunt Jessie told us our mothers story.
 Suppose-but why think of these things now? It cannot be wrong for me to go. No, it cannot be wrong for me to go.
 I felt that I would gratefully accept anything that brought me money which 1 could save; then, how could resist the temptation of that offer of 91OO & yearf Through all the very most hope ful time of trying, I never fancied It could earn that, Eighty pounds a year I shall be able to put away toward pay ing that terrible debt of Gerard's aud mine. Four years are gone-half the time. ..of his absence, and through those years have been able to save so little.
 How long they have seemed Vet