The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-07-07

But listeners and iookefs-on are here at the nursery door. First comes a stu dious-faeed youth. His is face Of per- piexity. a face of sadness. a face un- used to smiles, He sees the little wo. man with the white-robed group about her; sighs. "Angei heart though she has. it win turn to stone here!" and his face disappears in the darkness Of the hallway.
 "onee upon a time,-"
 But here are another figure and face, figure of portly man. face of cow ard husband; face whose hard lines of struggle and auivering lines of tenn porization and expedieney, for an in- stant relax into beaming Joyousness, while the lips of this face part with, Thank God for that gentle spirit in this housew as figure and face hiA nd into the shadows of the hallway.
 "once upon time.-"
 Here are the figure and face of a wo- man at the partly opened nursery door She has overheard the fervcnt benedic- ton that preceded her. Consequent- iy the face Is as dark as the shadows in the hallway. The woman also sees her own brawling children stilled and subdued and softcned by the magic of another woman's womanly sweetness The demons of ignorance and jealousy and that inscrutabie vulture- savage in- stinct of sex. blacken her heart and darken her face. until hate envelopes her very being. as she disappears. plunging threateningly after the two into the dark shadows Of the hallway.
 And so it came that the one gentle soul which had ever shed It's kindly in- fiuence of love and patience within the Plumley mansion. won the wild things and the heart-hungry humans within It into new life and ways. It had made this home an earthly heaven. had its mother heart known aught else than worldly greed and the unreasoning, jealous hate which, in woman, at last tears from her possession the very things such tigress-natures for time hold close by dread and fear alone.
 But no reason can penetrate such in- tellects; no pity has home in such hearts; and even no wise self interest can deter or swerve the destructive bent of such natures.
 That the Plumley home was sunnier for the real martyrs presence was an affront, that her children loved Dora Brice and were gradually being res- cued from barDarism was an unfor- givable presumption and intrusion, and that her husband and son. for her real worth, should ever plaad for compass sionate treatment of the orphan, was an indignity, to Mrs. Tillman Plumley, each and all of which could only be expiated by almost inconceivable nag ging, innuendo and ccwardly abuse.
 Every brave life has its limit of ef- fort, sufferance and defense. One morning the Plumley children called for their little nurse in vain. In her place was a brief note, pinned to her pillow, which read
 "When you read this I shall be far away. May God bless all who have been kind to me in this home, which have done my best to faithfully serve! DORA.
 Good riddance to the sly minxr snorted Mrs. Tillman Plumley, when the note was brought to the breakfast table,
 This is terriblev' easped Tillman Plumley, his face suffused with anger and amazement as he saw the look and smirk of triumph and satisfaction in his helpmeet's eyes.
 Water and oil were never known to mix!" said Robert Plumley, white faced and trembling he left the ta- ble.
 It was many years before he sat there again, and then only as a guest; for the very next morning another note was read by the husband and wife while at their breakfast:
 II am going away for good. If young man of nineteen cannot make his own way in age. Besides, this place has been hell to mo for geographically so, since mothers treatment of Dora Brice. Mother is a protesting Christian. l shall never again step foot inside her house, until know she is q real one. Every respectable man has right to happy home, and should have it if he has to fight for it. Ishall have one, in good time, if there are but the four walls of one room and oowardiy generosity on tn the ' other, @ have have made this place place of darkness and of nhantoms l leave it with the single regret that leaving is hope instead of sorrow.
 ROBERT PLUMLEY.
 "Aha" gleefully shouted Mrs. Till man Plumley. There's the angelic influence of your immaculate Dora for you! 'Spose you'll be goin' next?" The latter with sheer to her grief strick- en husband.
 By thunder! Cypthy Ann Plumley! I've a notion to go this very minuter
 But the Plumley mysteries, which ever lay in wait for him, and the five bright little Plumley heads, which danced before his misty eyes held him from the result of this rash impulse, and, for time, made him doggedly tread the old hard way as submissive ly as ever.
 Sad case over in that fllrthest ward, Bobr'
 Charlie Burroughs, reporter, was the speaker. His companion was the youngest member of the young but firm, at No. 204 Cortlandt street, New York city, dealers in elec- trical appliances. The two were friends; chums at the same uptown aotel; and this evening, some three years after the disappearance of Dora and Robert from the Plumley man. sion on the Hudson, Burroughs had asked his friend to accompany him on ] short assignment to the Mercy hos oital.
 Sad case, Bob! One of the sweet ,st-faced little women you ever saw. Crazy as g. bedbug, though. Just lies here and keeps moaning: "Once upon. ] time!-Once upon time" Matron ,ays they can't find out much about Ter history. She's from New Eng and somewhere. They traced her to a house up the Hudson.