Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-04-29

laylnR my Glmlo1Cy aSlQeS spoke out boldly, saying:
 This is Mrs. Lawton, I presume?''
 ''It is," she answered.
 "Then, Mrs. Lawton," said, q am seeking some kind of employment that will give me shelter and living, and I have come to apply to you"
 She looked me over with great delib- eration, her features retaining their cold immobility, undisturbed by even so much as a ripple either of pleasure or displeasure.
 "Well," she said at last, in her slow, majestic, deliberate way, "what kind of employment do you want2"
 ''I want any kind that will give me a decent support" replied.
 "Then you have no preference?" she questioned.
 ''I am not in position to have pref erences," answered. 'With me it is not question of what will do, but of what can do. Have you a need of my services in any capacity?"
 She did not speak at once, but for a little while stood silently gazing into my face, vacant, far-away look in her eyes that impressed me with the be- lief that she was not seeing mo at all and that her thoughts were not on me. She did not answer my question, and when she spoke it was to this effect:
 Come into my room, will you? I want to talk with you a moment"
 "Yes, ma'am," replied, at the same time following her into the great hall, thence into a nicely furnished, but dark, dismal room.
 10 nd hoI a chair near her.
 <"Now," she began, tell me all about yourself-your name, your percentage, your life experiences and everything" {"
 My name is Agnes Owens," re- piled; land my mother is dead, and my father is married again."
 said so much and stopped. was chary of saying more to stranger.
 ''So your mother is dead?" she ob- served, her voice a little more gentle than it had been. Has she been dead long?"
 ''Since my infancy" answered.
 Indeed? Thenyou have never known a mothers love?"
 Never; but I've often felt the want of it.
 ''It is strange" she said, musingly ''One feels the want of mothers love, the other the want of an object to shed that love upon.''
 There was a short pause before she resumed, and when she spoke again it appeared as if she had awakened out of a deep reverie.
 "Your father is living, then?" she questioned.
 Yes, ma'am."
 "Why do you not live with him?"
 'Because my stepmother was very cruel to me, and I could not bear the sufferings she inflicted on me-"
 Was your father cruel, too?"
 ''He was never kind, and he always believed what my stepmother told him.''
 "Yes, yes; 1 know how that is. have experienced it all, but it's been q long time since, of course. But could you not remain at home and suffer less than you suffer in this friendless way of living?"
 ''No, ma'am; I could not remain at home at all. My stepmother ordered me to leave, and my father, who was present, did not interfere. was driven away"
 Driven away?" Mrs. Lawton repeat ed, meditatively. "Cruel, heartless wretches!'' Then after the lapse of a moment, she asked:
 "How long have you been from home?''
 Several months," answered.
 And how have you fared during those several months?"
 'I have not been happy"
 Have the people you had dealings with been kind to you?"
 'Some have and some have not"
 Where did you live before you came here?''
 ''I would rather not tell that, Mrs. Lawton, if you please. have good reasons for wishing to keep it a secret. D
 She watched me with intense interest for short time.
 "fIiss Owens," she said, directly, 'sI do not wish to pry into your secrets. l have no right to do so. Yet how am I to assist you unless I have your conf dence? You are Q stranger to me, and before take you into my hama ns4phf