cashmere was quite enough, and 1 crammed 
it out of sight, confident that 1 knew at lust 
exactly how I should look it 1 were dead and 
dressed to he seen. Then I went to the win¬ 
dow and leaned out, resolving to give my 
laziness an airing and enjoy my dolce far vi- 
ent>i to the uttermost. 
The cars were in, the engine just steaming 
away from the little Frenc h roofed depot to 
their final destination ten miles furthe r Oil, 
for Forestuook was merely a wuy station. 
There seemed to he but one passenge r for 
our little village, a slight female, who stood 
a minute looking vacantly around her, and 
then started rapidly and somewhat unsteadi¬ 
ly to walk down the dusty road, bounded on 
one side by my garden wall. She walked so 
rapidly, and with such a nervous, hurried 
way, that 1 watched her curiously till a cor¬ 
ner of tint house hid me from her. 
“The woman in gray,” l said,aloud,turn¬ 
ing from the window; “what, a pity \\ ilkie 
Collins isn’t here to sec: her.” 
The opening and shutting of the iron gate 
came to my ear just then, and I wondered il 
Kudu 1 had remembered to close the parlor 
blinds before going np to her afternoon 
slumbers, for I had been eating pears by the. 
window after dinner, and came away lea\ ing 
a costly gold fruit-knife carelessly behind 
me. Then Tiger barked, and a step too 
quick and light for Rachel Brown came 
over the stairs, and 1 looked up to see the 
woman in gray standing inside my chamber 
door. 
“Madam!” 1 almost screamed, in sharp, 
quick surprise. 
8lic put up her little ungloved hand then, 
so pitifully, so imploringly, that 1 shall never 
forget the: pathos of that motion to the last 
day of my life. The other hand seemed 
holding some treasured parcel tightly under 
her shawl. 
“ You are a woman — your surroundings 
lead me to believe you a happy and fortu¬ 
nate one. As you deal with me now, so 
may Cod one day deal with you,” she said, 
in a voice the most touching 1 ever heard, 
her great purple eyes searching mine, 
T viewed my singular guest for an instant 
from head to foot. Her face, childishly 
sweet, was so white that each blue vein was 
visible but for a scarlet dash ofcolor in tbo 
softly rounded cheeks. Then a gray shawl 
and a gray silk dress sweeping 1 lit; floor. 
There was a lunatic asylum within a mile 
of my bouse, but she bad hardly escaped 
from there. I looked in her eyes; they 
were strained and frightened with a wistftd, 
longing look in their dreary depths, but bore 
no lurid tights. 
“What is it, child?” I asked, softly; 
“though I am not in the habit of allowing 
strangers to intrude upon me thus, I will 
give you whatever you wish. What can 1 
do for you V” 
A step in the entry—Rachel Brown's, I 
knew—sent the girl springing towards me 
like a hunted deer. 
“ (>, hide me! hide me! ” she faltered out; 
and tlmn her strength gave wuy, and she 
sank fainting to the floor, a baby cry coming 
wailingjy out from under her closely gathered 
shawl. 
Here was a situation for two old maids to 
be forced into! While Rachel Brown, 
who always does the right thing at. the 
right instant, was hushing the baby on one 
hand and bathing its pale mother’s still face 
with the other, 1 was fumbling helplessly 
among the bottles on my bureau, upsetting 
everything 1 could lay bauds on. 
“What in the world shall we do, Rachel?” 
I asked, helplessly viewing t he situation. 
“ Do ! 1 don’t see hut one thing there is to 
(tv>, and that is to undress this couple of in¬ 
valids and tuck ’em into bed. 1 know sutbin’ 
about babies, if l am an old maid. I nussed 
Cap’ll Eaton's wife with her twins only the 
spring afore the Cap’ll was drowned in the 
Specific Ocean, and Til bet my new false 
teeth this little critter ain’t a day over three 
weeks old. No doubt some wretch of a re¬ 
lation has turned this poor child out doors, 
with her baby in her arms, and secin’ you 
and I, Miss Helen, don’t happen to be per¬ 
fectionists, it ain’t for us to cast the fust 
stone at her.” 
There is no gainsaying Rachel Brown. 
Just then I had as fervent an admiration for 
her as Betsey Trot wood had for Mr. Dick, 
-when she appealed to him to know what 
disposition she should make of David Cop- 
perfield, and was straightway advised to 
wash him. 
Rachel always ordered me round, and al¬ 
ways will, 1 dare say. If she should tell me 
to go up on top of the house and sit on the 
floor of that little room in the cupola two 
hours with my eyes shut, I suppose I should 
obey her merely from the force of habit; 
though when she gets to ignoring my twenty- 
nine years of world wisdom too utterly, 1 
have only to threaten her that 1 will marry 
old Doctor Marsh and his three red haired 
children, and everybody knows he lias asked 
me regularly twice a week ever since his wife 
died. But Doctor Marsh is too dire a penalty 
to pay for the melancholy satisfaction of hav¬ 
ing Mrs. on my tombstone. 
Well, as I was saying, just as worthy Miss 
Trotwood took -Mr. Dick's advice, I took 
Rachel Brown’s. Behold the strange girl 
then, long ere the twilight fell, robed in one 
of my ruffled cambric night-gowns that, was 
a world too long for her, and tucked into 
bed, where she lay like a broken lily with 
the little one on her arm, Us two pink lists 
pressed against its rosebud of a mouth ; and 
as 1 sat by, watching them, both lying there 
sound asleep, I dropped a few foolish tears, 
thinking how improbable it was that 1 would 
ever own a baby with pink fists and golden 
t ines of hair all over its pretty head. 
It was deep into the night before the 
young mother woke, rested and refreshed, 
Iter cheeks quite tree of Ihe feverish scarlet 
spot ltaehel Brown had remarked as mean¬ 
ing mischief. I shall never forget the grati¬ 
tude Unit looked out of her beautiful eyes as 
she lav languidly content gazing into my face. 
“ I knew you were good and gentle when 
1 looked up and saw you leaning out of the 
window this afternoon. Few women would 
have taken me in as you did. You won’t let 
anybody come here and take my baby away 
from me, will you ?” she pleaded like a 1 tight¬ 
ened child, the nnxious, excited look coming 
again into her face. 
“Certainly not,” T said, .soothingly; “you 
may rest in peace. No one shall harm you.” 
" I’d like to see anybody undertake to do 
it, anyhow,” chimed in Rachel Brown, her 
head appearing over the footboard; “there 
ain’t any law in the laud tint can take a 
missiri’ baby away from its mother. Now 
you jest lay still and not fret yourself into a 
lever; nobody ever comes here, but the 
butcher and milk boy, unless the sewin’ so¬ 
ciety should happen to get. short of news 
and* send out collectin' items, as they’ve been 
known to do afore to-day. But if any of 
’em strike for tills bouse, i’ll jest commence 
singing, 1 Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys 
are murchin’,’ like all the nation, and that'll 
give you the hint to cuddle up the baby and 
keep her from eryin’ and betrayin’ us.” 
“ Don’t you really believe any one lias 
power .to force me to give up llic child?” 
the girl asked again, too much engrossed 
with her own terror to smile at Rachel 
Brown. 
“ I am confident there is no such danger,” 
I said. “ A mother is, of course, the proper 
guardian of her infant. Is it your husband 
you fear?” 
Her fair face was stainless of any shadow 
of guilt as she answered my sudden ques¬ 
tion, though the blue eves 111 led with teal's. 
“My husband; ah, no. God knows if he 
had lived, baby and 1 had never been driven 
to seek shelter and protection at the hands 
of a stranger." 
Somehow all my vague doubts tied at Ihe 
sad, despairing tone, and a strange yearning 
pity grew up in my heart, for one ho young, 
so beautiful, and so utterly lricndless. 
“ I will be your friend,” I said, gently. 
“No harm shall reach you or your babe; 
ami if you are hiding from any real or lan¬ 
ded foe, my house shall be your stronghold 
as long as you choose.” 
“There! now 1 remember you—your voice 
has the old, clear ring in it,” she cried, de¬ 
lightedly, sitting up in bed, her eyes growing 
»lad and her cheek# scarlet, with excitement. 
“ Don’t 1 know now that 1 am safe? Do 
try and remember me. I am Garnet—Gar¬ 
net Gray.” 
Then dormant memory roused and shook 
t herself. 
" IIow stupid of me not to have recognized 
you before !” I said, as pleased as she. “1 
ought to have known you, for when you ap¬ 
peared in my room, so pale and frightened, 
this afternoon, you looked exactly as you 
did the day you came up Lo my room at the 
Glen House to tell me you had broken Mrs. 
Warren's elegant Parian pitcher." 
“ You have not forgotten your old kind¬ 
ness of heart, it is evident,” she said, warmly, 
settling back on the pillows. “ Wlmt a chase 
you did have the next day all over the city, 
finding one to replace it. Mrs. Warren was 
pretty bard with me in those days, when 1 
used to set. her tables and rub her silver. I 
think, Miss West, if 1 had fallen into her 
hands to-day—Christian as she is—she would 
have given my baby away, and sent me to the 
almshouse.” 
I don’t know what it. was that prompted 
me to take this girl so entirely upon trust, 
asking no questions nor seeking to draw the 
veil from the three years of motherless girl¬ 
hood that might have cost her so much, and 
l had never seen her since the summer at 
(•;ic mountains. Hut, as Rachel Brown said 
that night in the kitchen, if she was willing 
to do the work and 1 to pay the hills, wo 
had a perfect, right to harbor both mother 
and child till the affair sifted itself clear, and 
it was nobody’s business, either.” 
Is there any human power more omni¬ 
present than gossip? I stood at one of the 
great wide windows in the cool dining-room 
the following Tuesday morning, where l was 
turning over some tiny garments in the 
clothes basket, carefully selecting the most 
delicate, which l intended ironing myself, 
afraid to trust such fairy vesture to Rachel’s 
unsparing fingers. How I did work two or 
three days making little clothes for Garnet’s 
baby 1 In the excess of delightful and unac¬ 
customed play-work, I cut up no end of linen 
cambric morning wrappers and Valenciennes 
collars to trim the elegant slips and tiny 
chemises. A shadow fell across the sunlight 
under the porch honeysuckle, and I whisked 
my handful of snowy garments under a pile 
of dish towels. 
“Good pity! if there don’t come old Al- 
tniry Simonds; and a greater gossip don't 
live between here and the Meddygeranium 
Sen. Good mornin’, Almiry; how do you 
do? Take a chair and lay off your Imimit. 
IIow bright the sun is. I do declare these 
beautiful days make me feel so happy I can’t 
help singin: 
“ Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marehln’; ' " 
and Rachel Brown might certainly have 
been heard a mile and a half. 
“ You are quite a stranger, Mrs. Simonds,” 
I said, because. 1 must, say something. 
I looked up in well-feigned astonishment. 
Rachel suddenly ceased cheering up her 
“ comrades,” and turned as red as a boiled 
beet. 
“ IIow is the baby?” she asked. 
“ What baby? What do you mean, Mrs. 
Simonds? Who said anything about a 
baby?” I asked, with cool dignity. 
“ Why, nobody didn’t say nothin’ partic¬ 
ular. Only Miss Kent said her Sary Ann 
went into the apothecary’# last Saturday to 
buy some gum drops, and she said your hired 
man, Mike, was in there buy in’ a French 
nussin’ bottle.” 
“ Well, and what then! Mike’s wife has 
a year-old baby to board, her dead sister’s 
child," I said, quietly, angry enough to shako 
her false teeth out. 
“Yes —but — well, Miss West, but Miss 
Kent does love to know pretty well what is 
going on, and she told her Sary Ann to conic 
around this way going borne from school 
and look on your clothes line, as that would 
tell ihe story; for Miss Kent vow# she sees 
a light in the parlor chamber and beard a 
baby cry, coinin’ borne from class mcciiii 
Friday night." 
Mentally cheering up my flagging patience 
I asked just one question more. 
“ Well, the clothes line, what did that 
develop ?" 1 queried, calmly. 
“O, Sary Anil says she never did see a 
bigger washin' out even fur twins—slips and 
shirts and petticoats and—” 
“Mrs. Simonds,” 1 said, louder than 1 of- 
ii n allow my voice to rise, “ i'll trouble you 
to vise and leave my house forever and ever. 
Please call as you go home and tell Sarah 
Ann Kent and all her relatives, male, and fe¬ 
male, if they dare to come here again to ex¬ 
amine my clothesline, I’ll strangle them with 
it. Now go, and if you dare to slander me, 
1 will prosecute you.” 
“ Terrible bumble critter, ain’t she?” mused 
my Rachel, looking out after her. “ How 
she does need n new biinnit! 1 certainly 
think she had that black straw the day Adam 
moved out of the ark.” 
Rachel is a good soul, but her recollections 
of ancient history arc sometimes at rifle con¬ 
fused. 
Just then there came a sharp ring at the 
frontdoor bell, and Rachel called me to re¬ 
ceive Parson Smith. As 1 stepped along 
towards the parlor, 1 lelt in my pocket for 
my port-inoimnie; for 1 could not imagine his 
motive in coming, unless it. was to solicit aid 
for some eharitabjc purpose. 
1 was at fault for once. lie sat awhile in 
my great, arm chair, talking composedly of 
the weather, the crops, and the cold state of 
the church, and taking a mental inventory 
of my furniture, features and dress. 
“ What a powerful long nose that man 
has, and how very thin of flesh lie is!” mused 
Raelu l Brown, looking out from her lair. 
“ lie's (lreadAll well satisfied with that, new 
carryall of hts’u. 1 guess lie’s forgot when 
he preached in Golly town, and his wife rid 
to meeting on an ox-sled, on a turned down 
peck measure.” 
“ O Rachel, Rachel, you horrible gossip!” 
1 called out, thinking it was just as cheap to 
laugh as to cry. 
A girlish giggle just at that instant at¬ 
tracted my attention to Hie stairway, where 
stood Garnet Gray, fresh as a blush rose, 
and charmingly pretty in a pink French 
cambric wrapper 1 had remodeled for her 
from one of mine. 
“ Was ever anything so funny?” she ex¬ 
claimed, her face alight with mirth. “ That 
is the very minister who married John and 
I. He was preaching at N-a year ago. 
So he is a real minister, after all; and Kate 
Edgeworth told me a lie when she said my 
marriage was not a legal one.” 
“ Kate Edgeworth ? What do you know 
about Kate or her family?” 1 questioned, 
wondering. 
“More than I care to know, at least, of 
her. But get your work-basket and come 
up to the bay-window in my room, and I 
will toll you all about it. Perhaps she im¬ 
posed more than one falsehood upon me. It 
may be that my darling little baby lias a 
father living somewhere who will yet own 
and love her, alter all.” 
I walked off in quest of my work basket 
and found it. Then I seated myself opposite 
Garnet Gray in the alcove of the deep win¬ 
dow, and sorted my tanglt'd worsteds with 
nervous, trembling hands. 
“ 1 ought to have told you my story at the 
outset,” she said, settling herself; “but 1 
was so ill and unhappy when I came here 
that day, I didn’t care for anything but to 
lie down and die. Few women would be 
the friend to me you have been, people arc 
so suspicious; and indeed, circumstances 
were sadly against me. I had a prelly hard 
struggle with the world, try ing to earn my 
living respectably, after I grew tired of being 
driven around so by Mrs. Warren at the 
Glen House. I will not be so foolish as to 
pretend not to know that 1 have a beautiful 
face, though I never cared much for being 
pretty till it won me John Edgeworth’s love. 
He found me in a flower store, where he 
called one day to buy a bouquet., and it was 
just tlie same old story over again until wc 
were married, two months afterwards. You 
are perhaps aw are that although the Edge- 
worths arc very aristocratic, they are not 
nearly so rich as they once were. John told 
me there was trouble about the property, 
and a number of good reasons why our 
marriage was best kept, secret for awhile. I 
dare say Kate was one of those reasons ; she 
was so fiery, and so proud of her patrician 
blood, as she calls it. 
“ Well, my husband took me to a little 
dovecote in the city, and if you ever saw 
John Edgeworth, you can guess, perhaps, 
how happy he could make a woman beloved, 
lie used to call me his jewel— my name is 
Garnet, you know—and say my love recom¬ 
pensed him for all the disappointments of 
his life. I dare say I was too w ildly happy, 
hut it was not so very long. John did not 
come as usual one night, and the days and 
nights of a whole Week ran on till I was 
nearly distracted. Then one morning a lady, 
ft ate Edgeworth it. proved,Came and told me 
lie had been killed by the falling of a burn¬ 
ing store-house on the wharf. 1 can’t tell you 
how she hunted me out or all she Said; hut 
the burden of it, was that she could prove 
my marriage a sham. Then she played piti¬ 
ful, and offered to take me to a quiet place 
on the sea-shore, where she intended going 
for a few weeks. Having neither friends nor 
money, 1 went with her, hardly knowing 
w hether to believe her my friend or foe. Il 
did not take long for circumstance# to settle 
that point. I was very nervous through my 
illness, and they gave me opiates which 1 
disliked, and often spilled on the carpet rather 
than take them. 
“One afternoon Kate Edgeworth fancied 
me sound asleep, and she sat talking with a 
friend in my room, a German lady, 1 think; 
and they had it all settled for this lady to 
take me to Europe ns her waiting-maid as 
soon as 1 was well enough, and Kate Edge- 
worth was going to give my baby away! 
“1 wailed, O how patiently, every nerve 
strained to the uttermost, till they went 
away together for their afternoon drive. 
Then 1 got up, weak and trembling of body, 
strong as a lion in purpose, and stole away 
with my babe asleep in my bosom. 1 intend¬ 
ed going further than this; but when the 
cars stopped at the station yonder, baby 
cried, and I found that I had no nourishment 
for her, fright and fatigue having done their 
work on my feeble system. I can never 
thank God enough that he directed me to 
you,” 
1 sat listening like one in a. dream as she 
talked in her pretty, cooing voice to the 
babe, wide awake now, and smiling in her 
face like an angel. She was John Edge- 
worth’s wife, then, and her simple, childish 
beauty had at last filled and satisfied the 
great, kingly heart that had oucc throned 
me as queen. So one by one a lew dearly 
cherished hopes burned to ashes in their 
hiding-place — hopes that until now I had 
hardly known were so dear. But 1 only sat 
silently over my worsted work, embroider¬ 
ing a rose in gray that should have been 
vivid scarlet. 
“ I never heard anything so rillin’ in my 
life,” spoke Rachel Brown, who had been 
somewhere in ambush to hear Garnet’s story. 
“ If I had a disposition like that Edgeworth 
female, I’d go right straight tolngyaml hire 
a royal Bengal tiger to eat me.” 
“You give tigers credit for excellent di¬ 
gestion,” answered Garnet, laughing. 
Well, it was deep into November before I 
was strong enough to go to the city and try 
what could be done towards Garnet’s rights; 
for it w as my firm 1 iclief I lmt Kate Edgewor! 1 1 , 
whom l had known at. school, had taken ad¬ 
vantage of her friendless and lonely condi¬ 
tion to undo a union she considered a dis¬ 
grace. I found my prime minister, Lawyer 
Hart, in his cilice, squinting at a newspaper 
through his eye-glass, Alter getting his ad¬ 
vice about, a little business affair of my own, 
I asked him carelessly if the Edgeworths 
wore in town, 
“ I think so; some of them, at any rate. I 
certainly saw John and Kate riding yester¬ 
day.” 
“ Saw John and Kate ? Are you sure ?” I 
repeated, keenly interested. 
“ Yes, very sure. My Belle was with me, 
and she has eyes if I have none. Probably 
John is at home for Thanksgiving. He is 
in business in some Western State, I believe 
some one was saying.” 
“ In business at the West!” I unified, aloud. 
The old man looked at me curiously. 
“ Why, Miss Helen, you arc as good as an 
echo. What Is it about the Edgeworths?” 
he asked, laying away his paper. 
He listened attentively while I told him as 
much of Garnet’s story as was necessary for 
my purpose. 
“What a shame!” he exclaimed, alter 
hearing me out. “John Edgeworth isn’t 
dead any more than I am. I remember now 
hearing my wife say one of those Edge- 
worths had made a low marriage, and Kate 
was raving about it. Why don’t you go and 
face her up and tell her she had better make 
the best of it ? The disgrace, if there is any, 
won’t annoy her long, for she is going to 
marry a rich. Californian and go to Ban 
Francisco to live.” 
“ I pity him devoutly,” said I. “ Heaven 
knows I don’t want to see Katfi Edgeworth ! 
but if you will allow me, 1 will write a note 
to John and tell him where he may find his 
wife.” 
“Certainly, and my office boy shall take 
it to him. Here, Tom ; take the note this 
lady will write to No. 10 Percy Place, and 
deliver it into John Edgeworth’s own hand. 
Look alive now.” 
I told Garnet what T had clone, and she 
went about the house singing as gayly as a 
June robin on a peach tree. And 1 tried 
hard to appear as usual, and keep my skele¬ 
ton hidden from sight. 
Twilight, the next, evening, was deepen¬ 
ing and darkening in the parlor where I sat. 
Garnet was up stairs, singing her babe 
asleep, and the hour was near that I had 
mentioned in which to receive John Edge- 
worth and restore to him the woman he 
loved. 1 had dressed carefully in a rich 
black silk that became me well, and bad a 
little scarlet eh awl over my shoulders, and a 
white blossom with shining green leaves in 
my hair. I have a weakness for looking 
pretty on all oceasioits—a womauly weak¬ 
ness, I believe. 
Somehow, the instant the door hell rang 
my courage failed me strangely, and I ran 
nervously upstairs to Garnet. Rachel Brown 
called me a moment later, and we went 
down together, I pushing Garnet gently 
before me into the parlor. A gentleman rose 
to meet us; but before he bad time to speak 
a word, Garnet turned quickly to me with a 
face full of the blankest astonishment and 
disappointment l ever saw. 
“This isn’t my husband—there is some 
mistake. My John is a younger man by at 
least ten years.” And her blue eyes began 
to fill. 
“Allow me to undertake an explanation 
of this mistake,” spoke John Edgeworth, 
with ilie dear old music in his voice. “I 
could do no less than answer Miss Helen’s 
note in person; hut 1 came expecting to 
claim you as niece only, for Kate tells me 
you are the wife of my nephew John. I 
suppose every moment will he an hour to 
him, for he is not the most patient of inva¬ 
lids; but 1 am going to talk over old times 
with Miss Helen before I carry home his lost 
treasure.” 
Well, Garnet flitted away, wild with 
delight, to get her baby well wrapped for 
the drive, and John Edgeworth came and 
sat close beside me on the sofa. 
“ You said 1 was to come and get my wife. 
Shall 1 have her, Helen?” he asked, his 
voice breaking with emotion. 
“ Do you want her, after all her pride and 
folly?” 1 said, crying too. 
“ Want her? O Helen, 1 have never loved 
any' woman but you ! These have been weary 
years in w hich wc have been drifting widely 
apart," 
Of course I was not going to own to him 
that T bad known all along that we were 
making a couple of geese of ourselves, but it 
came out all right at last. Ho went away, 
taking Garnet with him, but promising to 
bring her and her husband,who was last re¬ 
covering from his accident, to diue with me 
on Thanksgiving day. It was strange how 
stupid I had been, forgetting nephew John 
all the while; but then he was a mere school¬ 
boy when I used to go there. 
We live together now, young John and 
Garnet, old John and I. Bv-and-by there 
came another baby, with doubled up pink 
fists, my very own: and one would certainly 
think, to see the time Rachel Brown makes 
over him, that there never whs or could he 
another such baby in Jill the world. 
--*— 
Severat. beautiful specimens of French 
china have been imported, from which -Mrs. 
President Grant is to select a dinner set lor 
the Executive Mansion. The pLeees are of 
several patterns and beautiful designs, each 
piece being decorated with fruits, flowers, 
game, etc., all bearing the President’s mono¬ 
gram in gold, and coat of arms of the United 
States. The dinner set will be an elegant 
affair, comprising over five hundred pieces, 
and will be Used on State occasions only at 
the White House. 
I 
; 'r L 
