Crawford avalanche., 1891-09-17

Helen. But, my child, you are too
proud There comes time In the life
of most, when we must accept help
when pride must be laid aside and we
must stoopl Independence is very fine
thing, my dear, but the proudly inde-
pendent man Is not the happy man. He
who can find pleasure in receiving as
well as giving is tho one who gets most
good out of life, because closer drawn 10
his fellow man. Now, my dear, I'm
going to get wine for your mother and
nourishing food for you"
She put out her hand protestingly, and
again that blush of humbled pride
mounted to her face.
"Your mothers life depends upon
timely aid. You and l can have our
reckoning by and by. l will look in
again this afternoon"
Soon / had sent up wine, fruits and
well prepared food TO Helen and her
mother. l could not dismiss them from
my mind for a moment during my round
of visits. / could understand the agony
of humiliation that poor girl was suffer-
ing-as well as the fear and sorrow hang
ing over her from her mothers illness.
Poverty had not been long with them; it
was apparent that their better days had
been recent. Then as l thought how
that rich girls thoughtless, heartless in
difference and neglect to pay her had
aggravated Helen's shame and grief, my
indignation knew no bounds, and when
reached Mrs. Trevor's humble room that
afternoon l had worked myself into q
furor of anger against that unknown
transgressor, Helens late employer. l
was boiling over with rage, which in
creased, if possible, when l found Mrs.
Trevor worse and noted Helcn's troubled,
anxious face. After doing all l could
for my patient, who soon fell into doze,
/ called Helen out into the hall.
Helen, give me the name and address
of the person who owes YOU"
She looked at me inquiringly as l took
out my notebook and pencil, but said:
"Miss Floy Garrison, POLO l. avenue"
wrote it down hurriedly and without
another word was on my way to find this
girl. had but one thought-to bring
her to see the SORROWS she had caused. 1t
might teach her lesson and cause her
to feel little of the shame and mortif-
cation Helen had to endure.
When drew up before POLO l. avenue
a carriage stood before the door and
party of four stood ready to enter. A
slender, middle-aged lady, fine-looking
young man, " old money bags and Dora
Copperfeld! Ribbons flying, curls blow
ing, draperies futtering and merry
laughter.
So Miss Empty Head was the culprit.
Twas not surprised at all If had been
knight of the middle ages / would have
away with her, and after showing her the
trouble and sorrow she had caused, i'm
INJURED her in a dungeon deep and dark,
but as it was the practical nineteenth
century must observe the convention
alities. So, while thirsting for ven
geance, had to smirk and bow and in
troduce myself.
Yes, "old moneybags" knew DIR.
Heathcote quite well by reputation.
Glad to meet him. "This," pointing to
the middle-aged lady, was his wife; the
young lady was his daughter Floy, and
this his nephew, Mr.. Philip Everett,
from the SOUTH"
then politely requested Miss Garrison
to accompany me to see u patient who
was very low, who knew her, and in
whom she would be interested. Floy
looked inquiringly at papa, who said:
"Yes, CO."
Not word was spoken during the
drive, but when we stood in Helen's
room pointed to Mrs. Trevor's wasted
form and said:
Behold your work"
"Oh, what do you mean?"
The blue eyes were round and fright
ened and the roses had faded from the
pretty cheeks. / turned sternly upon
her and said:
81 mean that q girl as young and
beautiful as yourself, as well-born and
as well-bred, has been reduced to dread
full povcrty-a poverty such as you have
never seen, but have cried over in novels;
she has been struggling bravely to keep
back want and trouble from an invalid
mother, while you were going to parties
and balls; but out of your plenty you
couldn't spare the pitiful $50 she had
earned by hard work. 1t would have
been a small fortune to her and saved
her heartaches and humiliation terrible
to her proud nature!"
Forgive me, oh, forgive me, Miss
Trevor, for my cruel, thoughtless care
lessness!"
She was crying and clinging to Helen,
who stood away.
81 have been so wickedly thoughtlessl
n ufu NOT Know rnere was 80 mucn sufrer-
ing and want in the world! Can you
ever forgive me?
But before Helen could speak, there
was loud knock at the door, and when
/ opened it, Col. Garrison and Mr.. Philip
Everett stood before me. Col. Garrison
explained that after had left them with
Floy, he grew uneasy, thinking he had
been too precipitate in giving his con-
sent for her to accompany me, fearing
my patient might be suffering from some
contagious disease.
Here Floy threw wide open the door,
and coming into the hall, threw herself
into her fathers arms and sobbed out the
whole sad story.
But what was the matter with Helen?
Was she about to faint? She steadicd
herself with one hand against q chair,
while the other was pressed to her heart;
her face was deadly pale, and her wide
stretched eyes were riveted upon MIR.
Everett, who when he caught sight of her
through the open door, stepped forward
with glad cry of "Helenw His manly,
handsome face was radiant with happi-
ness, and 1 henrd- him wv
Found at last! have searched ev-
erywhere for you, Helen!"
"Can you still"
"Do still love you? Oh, Helen, how