Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1892-04-15

cnlluren lay, anu CIleu' JusI Iu0u it''o
Peter calls out that there was carriage
at the door.
In minute in comes Miss Moore. She
had come to see why her clothes weren't
done; but she just commenced speaking,
and then stopped, looked around, and
come straight to my side.
"You ale full of trouble" said she.
"Your children are sick. Poor little
thingsl"
She was all in white, and she looked
like an angel to me then. hard ly knew
what she was doing-she was so quiet
and quick, and l was so dull with work
and want of sleep-before she had OF
her bonnet and sacque, and was sitting
beside the bed bathing the fever away
from them children. And there that
sweet young lady staid, in my poor place,
for three days.
If good nursing could have saved my
baby, he'd have lived, but 1 heard the
doctor tell Miss Moore that there was
hardly chance for MIN from the start.
Don't mind me, miss; I must cry a bit;
his grave is green yet. There, l am
better now.
All, if you could have seen my poor
baby in his coffin Miss Moore brought
flowers and flowers, and he was just
lying in a bed of roses. A lady's child
couldn't have looked sweeter than did
my poor little one when he was ready to
be put away from his mothers kiss.
Little Mag, she got well, though the
doctor hadn't expected it. Miss Moore
bless her-paid his bill.
Well, that sad summer was wearing
away. I'd got strengthened bit, and
was at my work again, when one day
man came on horseback to my door with
valise of gentleman's linen to be
washed. 1t was to be returned to the
Cliff House, farther up the beach.
The shirts were all marked "G. Ever
son." remember that l was a sprlnk.
ling them, when Miss More rode by on
her pony. She looked in at the open
door as she passed, and said
"Don't work too hard, Mrs. Flynn. :"
I looked after her-bless her!-as she
rode away, and it came to me that some
sorrow had visited her young heart, or
she never could be SO sympathetic with
those IN trouble. 1t isn't natural, you
see, miss, for young folks to know what
suffering means-not generally. They
find out by and by.
Alb, how strange things will happen
The next day started off for the Cliff
House with the basket of linen. One of
the walters told ME that Mr.. Everson s
room was No. IS, and Id find his valet
there, if he wasn't in. So 1 found the
door, and knocked.
A very polite Frenchman opened the
door, but he wasn't Mr.. Everson, only
his servant. Mr.. Eyerson was sitting in
an easy chair by the open window, read
ing, a great dog at his feet. He just
glancel up as 1 came in, and see ned to
see that was trembling with my load.
take the basket from the woman,
Louis, said he, and then took no more
notice; and l got a good look at him
while ne was reading.
He was we'll over thirty years old,
dark and reserved-looking, aud with a
sort of sad. tired LOOK, as it there was
nothing in the world he cared very much
for.
The Frenchman was taking the clothes
out of the basket as handy as a woman,
when all at once be cries out:
"a mee,takel Alb, you make a mce-
stake, you womau," aud brings me one
Of Miss Moores han1kerchiefs, wa ch
somehow I'd got mixed with Mr.. Ever
soa's.
don't remember, but l think mus.
have mentioned Miss Moore's name, for
Everson starts out OF his chair and takes
the handkerchief right out OF my han /,
and looks a. it, Then he turned quite
white and wild like.
''Is she herel Is Miss Grace Moore at
the shore herei" he asked, with a LOOK
as il he'd look me through.
lust told him she was-that she was
at the Surf House and came away.
The next evening l was sitting alone
on my doorstep in the moonlight, wher
carriage went slowly by in the road.
Who was in it but Miss Moore aud Mr.
EYersonl The wind was blowing west,
and brought the words he was speaking
right to our cara:
"Her spell resolved into its origina
elements, cunning knowledge OF hui
man nature and the arts of the toilet,
and was disenchanted in month.
have hupgered aud thirsted for you
for three years. Can you forgive me,
darIingp
Well, then, I somehow understood
that he was her lover, and had been un-
faithful, and I was right, for in septem'