Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1904-03-10
CHAPTER XIV.

IN our last chhptef, there was q SUNDAY
service Of q peculiar character held un.
der a railway arch. In one Of the dark
eat streets Of dark neighborhood lying
between the Lower Marsh aud the York
road, Lambeth. The place Of worship.
the worahipers, and the one who preach
ed and prayed, were all strange together,
and there was much for skln-deep piety
70 protest against, and for Irreyerence ia
scoR and jeer at. II was only the down.
right earnestnesa Of these fugitive atoms
scraped together here. that put forth Its
claims to the respect Of those who had
time TO think Of the odd forms In which
religion may assert Itself. Amongst the
myriads who turn their backs on church
or chapel orthodox, there nre still few
with courage to seek God In some fash
Ion.
OF the tcnets Of this community Il Ii
not our purpose or right TO inquire too
closely In these pages. The preaching
was simple. the earnestneas was manifest,
the one text seemed forgiveness to sim
nera, and the one appeal was for their
repentance before the hour was too late.
That which was most remarkable In the
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cd by q woman--a sallow, hollow-eyed
female--with touch Of fana,lcism In her
extravagant gestures and her hlgh-pitch-
cd voice, and In the sermon which abe
preached TO ragged and unkempt men,
women and children, three.fourths Of
| whom were full Of a grave, deep inter
est. and the remaining fraction very
noisy, and watching lts opportunity 20
turn q portion Of the discourse into ridi-
| cule.
These dlscontents were huddled togeth-
or near the door, a grinnlng, coughing.
and grimacing mob, whilst over their
heads peered occasionally a policeman's
helmet, a sign Of peace and order, that
was followed by much horse play and
lronical comment on the proceedings, af-
ter IL disappeared,
II had been a noisy night at Jennings
railway arch, where we resume our
story; the preacher had been more than
usually powerful and the opposition more
than commonly opposed 20 her; but tie
service had reached It's conclusion. From
the background Of the congregation there
stepped suddenly tall, well-dressed
young woman with her veil down, and
room was made for her into the inner cir
Gle Of rags and tatters by which Lucy
Jennings was surrounded.
May ! speak 20 you for a few mo-
mcnts In priyatef" asked the stranger In
low voice.
There was a low breath Of astonlsh-
ment. e. Lucy Jennings surveyed our
heroine. Sarah ERstbell had certainly
changed In two years--for the better, too,
being q tall. healthy, handsome young
woman now; but she had not altered out
OF all knowledge Of her friends and ac-
Quaintances. There was the same steady
outlook from the dark eyes; there was
something Of the same sadness, or depth
Of thought, expressed upon her face,
though the pallor had passed away, and
there was faint rose tihges on the cheeks,
which Lucy had seen last wasted with a
fever from which she had helped to save
herd.
Il know you by your voice." said Miss
Jenninfs, stolidly, "and have a men,
ory that does not fall me. ! am above
taking offense with any living soul, or
Rttributlng to any human being motives
for actions which have not been explain.
cd" said Lucy Jennings; "but cannot,
on the Lords DAY. win not under any
clrcumstances-devo myself to anything
but his service"
She crossed her thin hands upon the
bosom Of her dress, and looked up at
the stained roof Of the railway arch, over
which q heavy Southwestern train was
rumbllng at the moment.
ST will call on you tomorrow, II you
will give me your address," said Sarah
Eastbell.
Lucy Jennings hesitated before she an.
swered, as though an insuperable objec-
tion to renew their acquaintance assert
ed itself too strongly to be resisted; then
she said:
II shall be In Hope street tomorrow
at eleven. will wait for you there"
Lucy Jennings moved her head slight
ly. and Sarah Eastbell left her surround
cd by her converts,
As Sarah went out Of the place one
Of the unconverted picked her pocket Of
a cambrlc handkerchief, and was disap-
pointed at not finding her purse, which
she had left at home.
Sarah Eastbell was disturbed greatly
by this meeting with Lucy Jennings.
Her reception had not been what she
had anticipated; there had been cold
ness, almost q repulse, In lieu of that
welcome which she had expected at her
hands. Still the young lady from Sedge
Hill, Worcester, was of nature not to
be easily daunted, and she had come TO
London In hot haste, and only attended
by her maid, ON mission of Importance.
The next day at eleven she was In
Hope street, where she had been the day
before making inquiries, and finding out
the new vocation Of Miss Jennings after
a great deal Of trouble and perseverance.
Hope street had changed more than her
self In the two years since she had Quilted
the place. The Saxe-Gotha Gardens were
no more, and two rows Of small brick
houses formed q street on their site.
There were railway arches crossing the
road, and In place Of the house of Jen-
nlngs, Fireworks maker to the Court,
was black heap of ruins, shored ND BY
beams, and fenced around by a board
ing.
At eleven to the minute, Lucy Jen-
nings, In the rustiest Of black, and with
black cotton gloves three sizes too large
for her, came along the street, striiing
like a man. It was with the same In
flexible cast Of countenance which daunt-
ed Sarah Eastbell last night that she
advanced, and the outstretched hand of |
the younger woman was taken almost
with reluctance, and afterwards dropped |
coldly.
II hope you will not detain me very |
long, Miss Eastbell," said Lucy, "as |
have great many calls to make this
morning. We will walk Myatt's Fields |
way; and now to save time-for time is |
valuable to me--what is your first Iues-
toni"
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