The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-05-24

the most pFetentlOus. Everything aDOut
the old gray granite mansion, with its
flower garden and greenhouses, a half
mile from the town, was in q tone of
quiet elegance No cheap or tasteless
statuaTy or vulgar cast iron images, but
smooth velvet lawns, shaded by noble
old trees, and with well laid out drives
and walks. The private grounds were
skirted by shady lane that ran under
great dropping elms by the side of the
tennis court, but was divided from them
by wall Of masonry, and finally lost
itself in broad woodlands near the banks
Of an artificial lake furnished with rus
tic seats and a small boat house.
AS Miss March walked swiftly through
the lane she saw party Of young people
at play on the tennis oourt-Harold Ash
ley and four Of his friends, and his sister
Fanny, slight brunette, in well fit
ting tennis gown a lady In white re-
clined in lounging chair, with book
in her hand and great st. Bernard
dog crouched at her feet. Edith could
easily have heard what the young people
were saying had she fingered bit in the
shade Of the trees, but she sped along
under her sun umbrella, where wide
rents betrayed themselves in the worn
silk, anxious to hide herself in the thick,
cool woods in spot among the birch
trees and leafy ashes, where, sitting on
messy log, with her feet on ferns and
briony vines, she had once heard the
song Of the hermit thrush. This spot lay
over the hill opposite Deepdene place,
and gave glimpses Of little secluded
valley where cows wandered among the
sweetfern led by a tinlzling bell. 1t
was lonely and delicious, and Edith, sit
ting on her moss cushioned seat, with her
head thrown back and resting against
the trunk of tall ash, gave herself up
to reveries as she followed out the mazes
of her story. She never knew how long
she had sat there in perfect peace, her
mind having flown from the thread of
the tale to calculations as to how long
the money it was to bring would feed
and clothe VIII at the scientific school,
when strange gasping sound came to
her ear from the depths of the woods,
something between a groan and a faint
despairing wall. Itmight be a wounded
animal or lost child.
Edith started to her feet and looked
about. The sound appeared to issue from
a little thicket to the left, tangled with
wild grapevines and blackberry bushes.
She made her way quickly, cla1nbering
over logs and stones as best she could,
to the border of a shallow stony brook,
where grew cluster of great pines and
hen1ocKs At the foot of the largest tree
in the dim green light she saw vague
whiteness. 1t might be light colored
dog or a young heifer that had got caught.
No, it was woman, lying face down,
clutching the moss with her shriyeled
hands and moaning in great pain. Her
knees were drawn up as If in a spasm.
Edith gently raised her head from the
ground and tried to support her with her
back to the tree. The woman's face was
deathly pale. She was old and thin and
very light, and her hair was dressed on
long gray curls. Her gold trimmed glasses
had fallen off and her bonnet hung dan
Cling from her neck by the strings. A lit
tie figured shawl of an antique pattern
lay on the ground with small dinner
basket and manuscript book. The book
lay open, and Edith saw the writing in a
fine woman's hand, in lines that betoken-
ed poetry.
Edith ran to the brook for water, and
brought it in china cup that had rolled
out of the basket. She bathed the sick
woman's face and chafed her icy cold
hands. The faded, refined old face and
long gray curls seemed in some way ia
niliar, and suddenly it flashed upon her
memory that she had seen it that very
morning in the cottage garden among
the Irish tenements. She was the same
tail, thin old dame with long curls she
had seen out in the garden watering the
flowers.
81 am so glad you have come" whis-
pered the pale lips; II thought / should
die here alone"
"Were You Ill when You Gamer Edith
asked. "What caused it?'
The sick woman's hand pointed vague
ly to some suspicious looking fungi UNI
der the pine tree. ST heard they were
good to eat, the pink gills, you know,
and SO thought would try"
"Good heavensi you have been eating
toadstools"
Before the poor old creature could re-
! ply her face turned pinched and sickly
| blue, her lips crumpled like bit of pa
per in the fire, her eyes rolled up in her
head, her hands clinched, and she went
off into convulsion. Edith, wide eyed,
frightened and pale, found herself alone
in the woods with apparently dying
woman. She was young and strong and
the old lady was light. She seemed
wasted by fasting or sickness or perhaps
both. Edith must try to get her out of
the thicket to the top of the lane, where
she could call for aid. She dashed more
water from the brook in the poor Great
ure's face, but it did no good. She
chafed her hands, but her teeth were
clinched, and her whole form was quite
stiff and rigid. The girl doubted if a
4 spark Of life was left in the old frame.
She took her in her arms and half drag
ged. half carried her over the rough
bushes and brambles till she reached &
more open path that led to the top o.
the lane. She managed to struggle for
ward with her burden to the foot of {
large oak tree, where bed of mos
grew thick and soft about the roots