The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1892-06-18

| derwort-inquiries which bore no
fruit, and left him quite as ignorant OF
her whereabouts as he had been at
first.
So he went back to the army and
fought the war through, but he always
carried that knot of pink ribbon about
him, and never quite gave up the hope
of finding his little benefactress.
At the end of the war Col. Moreton
returned to New York, and entered
largely into business. and become a
successful and prosperous importer.
He was favorite in society, and fair
young bellies fished perseveringly for
him, and mammas with daughters on
their hands courtcd him assiduously,
hut without material success. lie was
thirty-thrce now, and people called him
a very cold, unimpassioned sort OF
man. and perhaps he was, for ut thirty
three the heart of an unmarried man
is generally pretty much gone to seed
But Ralph Moreton had kept himself
pure in heart and life, and such n man
ought to be respected in these degen.
crate days.
At the close of wintry afternoon OF
mist and drizzle, Ralph Moreton was
putting on his fur overcoat TO go home
from his place of business.
Some one raped timidly Mt the door
of the handsome counting-room, and a
woman's soft voice asked for Mr.. Dixon,
the head clerk. Dixon, smiling and
plausible, stepped to the door. What
ever the lady's request was, it was per-
formed in low voice.
"Well, really, Miss" said Mr.. Dixon,
II am sorry we can do nothing for you.
Very sorry! Times dull-money hard
work scarce! Everything at ruinous
A prices !"
IL have been told so great many
times during the past three weeks, "
said the sweet, sad voice, which stirred
so strangely some .half-forgotten
memory in the breast of Ralph More.
ton. Indeed, would not urge you,
but must have food for my fatherl
He is i'll and very old and helpless"
"Sorry -" began Dixon; but Ralph
stepped quietly before him, and mo.
toned him back to his desk.
II am Mr.. Moreton," he said, kindly;
"tell me what you desire"
Before she spoke he had time to OBJ
serve her fully. A tall, slight figure,
in mourning; pale face, lighted by
brown eyes, and framed in curling
chestnut hair. The face of n woman
who had known much sorrow; but,
after all, the face of the careless, happy
school girl he had met five years ago.
But no flush of recognition glowed
on her cheek, and Ralph suffered a
pang to think that she. whom he re-
membered so long, had forgotten him.
She stated her business. tremblingly.
lie knew she was just on the brink OF
tears. Poor child she had been SC
many times repulsed that hope had
almost failed in her breast.
She would copy papers or keep books,
but she must take work home, because
of her father. Ralph unlocked his
private desk and took out pile oil
papers ut random, nearly all of them
worthless-old letters, bills of ex'
change, invoices, ETC.. but he assume:
the gravest of business airs rs he made
them into package and handed them
to her, Ito be carefully copied at hei
earliest convenience. And then he
gave her ten dollars as her first weeks
salary.
How her white face lighted up al
sight Of the money-it would do sc
much good for her poor old father
She thanked him quietly and hurried
away.
"Duse take it !" said Dixon, round.
/
way of doing business! You didn't
even look at her handwriting, or ask
her her name !"
Moreton smiled in curious way, but
gave his officious clerk no information
on the subject.
The papers were all brought back,
neatly copied, in less than a week, and
Moreton saw with delight that the
girls eyes were brighter and her
cheeks roster; indeed, she was quite
like the little beauty with the satchel
of books.
Moreton was alone in the Office when
she came, and after looking over the
work, he took seat beside her.
"Miss Vanderwort," said he, 81 am
sorry that your memory is less faithful
than mine"
II do not understand your! she said,
with slight shade of haughtiness.
mo. But ask you to recall one
stormy winters day, five years ago;
the scene, u crowded railway car; the
characters, a self-important conductor,
forlorn, wounded, pennIless soldier,
and bright-faced young school girl in
plaid dress, with pink ribbons on her
hair. See, here is one of the very
knots which tied her brown braids,''
and he held up the pink ribbon to her
astonished eyes.
She remembered II oil then, and thie
contrast between the happy life she
had known, and the dreary present,
was too much! She tried hard to re-
strain herself, but the effort was vain,
and down went her head on the table
before her, and she sobbed like q child.
Ralph Moreton lifted her up, and
smoothed back the hair from her hot
forehead.
my little girl" said he, ~ loved
you then, / love you now. Surely five
years of devotion will give me an ex-
cuse for speaking. do not ask any
answer now-you shall have weeks to
think of 1t in, and meanwhile will
make the acquaintance of your father. ;
He walked home with her that even
ing, and learned the whole sad history
of fallen fortune. Nothing new-only
the old story of speculations, loss and
ruin; afterward, Mrs. Vanderwort's
death; and then her husband was
stricken with partial paralysis, which
untitled him for any kind Of labor or
business. Then everything fell upon
Maud's young shoulders, and many and
many time the girl had suffered for
bread.
She was not to suffer for anything
longer. 1t was delightfully."- easy task
for her. to learn to love Ralph Moreton,
and not three months after nc found