St. Landry democrat., 1891-10-31
THAT PRETTY LITTLE SIAfLtTOA.
BY VIRGIE F. HARRIS,

w udt Il silly NIUE tiIluSS SIG Was, bttt
how pretty. All smiles and dimpIcs
rosy cheeks and fluffy brown hair, shad-
ing laughing blue eyes. thought, as |
sat opposite her that day i'll the street
car, and heard her grlish prattle, that |
had never seen such a combination of
Stiffness and prettincss. Her silly chat
ter provoked me desperately, for | was
| intensely interested i'll an article in the
last Medical Journal, which had direct
bearing on q complicated case | was
going that morning to treat. An acct
| dent that morning to one of my horses
and a stupid blunder of my coachman
| had forced me to take the car, and felt
as cross as 4 bear. and looked SOL know,
for when caught her eye she tossed her
| silly little head and turned away with a
| pout. l heard enough about papa, balls,
the opera, etc, to guess that she was an
| idolizcd, only child and something Of a
| belle. As | was too old to ignore the
vacuum in her head, for the sake of the
pretty face, was much relieved when
Dora Copperfcld-as mentally styled
| her-and her friend left the car 1t was
strange, but after the first chance meet
ing, L was constantly meeting Dora [
caught glimpses OF her nesting down in
the cushions, as her carriage dashed with
flash and glitter by my office. At the
opera the tates threw me in her neigh
borhood. She was with fat, pompous-
! looking middle-aged man, whom took to
be 'papa." mentally dubbed him "old
money-bags," and hated him as heartily
as did his daughtcr-he looked so com
placcnt and listened with such evident
relish 10 her ceascIess, silly prattle
One day l was summoned in great
haste TO the bedside Of a patient whom |
had attended a few times before. She
and her daughte lived in, a quarter of
the city to which my practice seldom
called ne, and among people | only
served for sweet charity's sake. Though
these two were as poor as many [ at
tended free | could not dare refuse the
fee they promptly rendered after each
visit Of them | knew nothing further
than that they were ladies. There was
proud independence, digniied reticence
that commanded my respect. was much
attracted by them both; the mother was
refined a.!u gentle, and bore with forti-
tude her suiferings; the daughter was
beautiful, proud, dignifed, and bravely
independent. [ was anxious to help
them, but the opportunity for doing 50
deGcately and without risk of offending
had never yet presented itself, and not
for my right hand would | have offended
their brave, proud, reticent poverty. But
on this visit the evidences of poverty
were even greater. The room was very
bare; evidently they had been forced to
pawn many necessary articles. The
daughter was pale and thin, aud some
thing like despair shone in the beautiful
dark eyes. | found Mrs. Trevor very
weak and low. After | had prescribed
for her | sat like 'Micawber," hoping
something would turn up''-that there
would be some opening in the conversa-
ton where | might safely offer aid.
could not leave them in such destitution.
l must help them--this was not their
place and sphere, and they must be lifted
out by some means. The mother was too
weak to talk, and Miss Trevor was too
absorbed IN her own sad thoughts for
conversation. so | must take the dilemma
by the horns.
Have you been taking wine as | pre-
scribed, Mrs. Trevor? You are much
weaker than when | saw you last, and I
had hoped the wine would have built up
your strength
Miss Trevor seemed to struggle with
herself. A burning blush sutfused her
face and neck. At last she raised her
head proudly, and with defiant air
looked me full and steadily in the eve,
as she said in low voice, without a
culver:
"No, DR.. Heathcote We were not
able to follow your prescription fully. !!
The wine you sent mother was of great
benefit to her, and [ was able to supply |
it, also, until last week, when she was
taken much worse, requiring my unre-
hitting attention, which forced me to
stop sewing, my only means of support.
But l had just finished some work for a
young lady, and as she owed me $50. |
trusted to that to tide me over, until |
could resume work But | have been
unable to collect the money, and we are
penniless."
Bravely said, my beautiful spartanl
l thought, as | looked at the fine, pale
face with its troubled eyes. The Spar
tan youth, with the wolf gnawing at his
vitals, suffered less than you did in
making this confession Behind that
marble calmness, my beautiful Galatea.
what Vesuvius must be throbbing and
seething in your heart and brain! In
Jurles and injustice that you can't for
get-neglect and GOODNESS from those
who should have befriended.
Eyes, DOCTOR said Mrs. Trevor,
" Helen kept her troubles from me as long
as she could, and has allowed me to want
for nothing, but failing to collect the
money due her has been great hardship.
The poor child has not tasted food since
yesterday"
She covered her face with her hands,
and the tears trickled down through the
thin fingers.
L turned like one shot and stared at that
beautiful girl, standing SO quiet and COM
posed, Starving! starving! She, fit to be
u queen, and suffering for bread! |
stalked like Gagged lion up and down the
narrow room.
"Oh, the heartless rich! The cold,
heartless rich!''
!" More thoughtless than heartless,
think, DR. Heathcote.
stopped short as the cool, even tones
fell on my ear, and marching up to her
took both her hands in mine. [ was old
enough to be her father.
Helen, why didn't you come to me?
Why didn't you Gomez
The tears came to her eyes the frstI
had seen there.