St. Paul daily globe., 1896-04-26


She stopped before the mirror that hung
ABOVE the mantel shelf and stood looking at
the reflection of her face. melancholy face
1t was-the face of a woman who had let life
go by without taking the best that life Of
Tered; the face of a woman whom loneliness
nad wasted; love-hungry, disappointed face
was she jealous of this unknown woman
this young and pretty girl for whom Phin-
cas- Balm might well recall his love and his
youth? Surely not. Yet what was this
strange emotion, this pain about her heart
thls sick restlessness, such as she had never
Deiore known? 1t seemed incredible that the
,uea OF ms loving another woman should re-
Rlnoie In her desire to have Phineas for her
self. Yet she experienced an intense wish IN
come again under his notice. to know his feel
lngs to have part of his interests.
1t nao come upon her so suddenly in fhe
Hiiust OF her staid, contented life At the very
hlenuon Oh this stranger by the gossip of the
place, there had leaped up within her an emo
uen which she had with difficulty repressed
untl sne was alone. Looking round her home
SO perfect In all the details of order and
thrift, yet witha1 so barren and cheerless sba
wondered more and more at her folly in hav
Ing thrown away the one thing needfuI for her
happiness. She had loved the man after aII
mad loved him passively for score of years.
ana sne loved him still. The pride that had
caused her to refuse him, and the conscious
ness of social superiority-where were they
now? what did they amount to under the
calm scrutiny of six and thirty? An income
safncient for her humble needs had bred in her
somewhat selfish Independence, and she was
peuno to confess that this had not been with
out its influence in the matter. It was 1one
a1ter her usual early hour for going to bed
when she at last put out her lamp. and the
conclusion she had come to when she left the
loneliness below stairs for the loneliness above
was tnat Mrs. Freeman was not far wrong
a1ter all, In saying that cit was the piano.
"A terrible sense of uneasiness oppressed
ner In the days which followed In vain she
trleo to occupy her thoughts as usual. and
TO enjoy the bright influence of the perfect
winter weather. Her heart was sick within
ner' the frost chilled instead of invigorating
her, and she found the short January days
toe long. She was jealeus-oh, how bitterly.
now increasingly jealous!-ef Miss Letters
new prentice. whom she had never even
seem Her heart ached to meet Phineas
Balm, but as luck would have it, he seemed
to have disappeared from the place Seek
MIN She would not, forget him she could not:
and all the time she was telling herself over
and over again that she was no better than
a TOOL to think Of such things.
More than one person in the village won
desed what allied Miss Herring. AS she went
about, quiet unobtrusive as ever, there was
something foriern about her tall, spare fig
ure, something pitiful in the expression Of
her grave face, the lines of which seemed
suddenly to have deepened. She answered
all inquiries, however, with the invariable
assurance that she was perfectly WELL
With all her efforts she had been unable to
regain her habitual state of mind, when an
other event befell of which she had no pre-
menition.
She had been, in spite of her protestations
very ailing for some days. The unusual ex-
eitement and emotion under which she la
bored were beginning to tell upon her, and
the maintenance of her little home had be-
oCme almost irlzsome to her.
Coming down stairs after somewhat rest
less night, she fastening to kindle her
FIRE when a knock at her door startled her.
She was greatly surprised at receiving let
ter, event which rarely occurred to her,
and the sight of the one the postman put into
her hand caused her an unaccountable un-
easiness. She opened it hastily, standing be-
side the newly lit fire, and then she stood
with her gaze fixed on the paper, and a ter
rible sense of chill creeping over her.
There had come to her the worst news,
perhaps, thatzcan come to friendless, help
less woman. The bank from which her little
income came each quarter as interest on in
vested capital had broken, and she was left
penniless.
The silence of the little house was broken
by a long, wafling cry. Jane Herring sank
down upon her hearth, and hid her face in
her trembling hands.
Penniless! Left suddenly without that
which she had come to look upon as unfaiI-
ing and unalterabIe.
No one saw her that day; no one knew of
the terror with which the lonely woman had
come face to face. Kneeling there on the
hearth where the blow had first fallen upon
her, she remained for hours combating with
this unexpected foe. Poyerty-staryation?
No, no. she told herself-not that for she
was strong yet, capable of work II she could
find it to do. She fought 1t out bravely
enough, that battle against inexorabIe cir
cumstances, crushing down after the first
shock of horror, every temptation to despair
There was a meaning in it all, she told her
self-a meaning even in the terrible loneli-
ness which doubled ali her sorrow. It was
her fault, and she was justly punished, but
she would bear her punishment as bravely
as possible.
She rose at last and having made I'D the
sinking fire, began to look upon the more
practical side Of the matter. Having but
few shillings In hand, it was essential that
she should raise some money on which to
live while she sought for work. 1t was not
without much thought and many bitter
sigh that she decided in what way this might
best be done. She must sell the piano! =
1t was very grevious very hard to do but
in the end that would have to go from her
possession-with the rest.
She was too tired, altogether too confused
and overcome, to set about the business that
day. She could not face the inevitable GU
riosity Of her neighbors; she could not, in
deed, have dragged her aching limbs as far
as the autioneers to whom she meant to go.
In spite Of her care, however, the village
regarded her with curiosity as she set out
next morning. Down the little street she
passed, looking neither to the right nor to
the left. The pride Of which her neighbors
had accused her certainly forbade her to
ask their pity, sorely though she needed it
now.
Mr.. Mead8Sthe autioneer, who had known
Jane Herring many years, was most kindly
sympathetic, and promised to do his best to
get her good price for the piano, even add
ing that he would buy it himself rather than
have her lose by the sale.
Then she went home again. It gave her
strange pang to enter this little house in
which SO many Of her years had been spent
but there had been some comfort in the kind
illness and sympathy of Mr.. Meade, and
Jane did her best to be quiet and brave.
All through the bright day she bore I'D
har dufia