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Her voice sounded like a silver bell, and its noticed it. Her dream was broken, her ideal echo seemed to reverberate again and again shattered and become only dust, common dust. through the room as she vanished in the darkness The hero of whom she had read, whose office she of the wintry storm. She had spoken and was had passed day by day as she went for her work gone. The dime still gleamed on the floor, for to the city, whose handsome face she had gazed when she threw back her veil Mr. Howard had upon with such delight, he had insulted her and unconsciously raised the gas to its fullest height, driven her from his presence. Her brother and and its light fell on the coin she had spurned. his child must die; she could not beg for them The hard lines had grown soft around his mouth, again. Edward Howard had refused to help them, and the handsome face was in reality beautiful and no one else would, she was sure. She did now, for only wonder and regret were written not hear half that her companion said, and only there-wonder at the marvelous loveliness of the spoke when she entered the door of her own woman he had called a beggar, and regret that home. “Father is not here"- The smile she was gone.
forced to her blue lips faded quickly, and with a “I've been a fool; it was Venus herself in the sigh she threw aside shawl and bonnet and bent guise of a beggar. I might have known from her shivering over a few coals in the tiny grate, while voice-from the way in which she told her story | her tangled mass of golden curls clung caressingly
—that she was some fallen princess, some broken to her marble cheeks and veiled her exquisite figure. merchant's daughter, no doubt. My! how she “Aline, darling, I've come for my answer. talked about treasures to be found in the snow. Oh, let me take you away at once from this povBah! 'tis too cold to look for one to-night." erty and misery. Poverty is so hard for you who
The carriage in waiting soon bore him to the have known wealth. I, like you, have gentle governor's dinner, where all seemed to delight in blood, but with me there has been a hard fight to doing him honor. There were fathers there who gain even honest independence; that I have won, sought him for a son-in-law, mothers who courted and I long to have you share with me my home him for their daughters, and maidens who smiled comforts. Won't you say yes, darling ?". upon him sweetly, realizing as well as their parents The girl shuddered, and shook her head. now desirable it was to make an impression upon | “I can't trust you." the millionaire. But he was colder and more re-l “Can't trust me? What do you mean?" served than ever, and evidently cared even less “I used to think I might-I used to think there than usual for honeyed words. He looked absent were a few noble, whole-souled men in the world, and troubled; he was haunted by that vision of a and that you were one of them. I don't believe perfect Grecian face shaded by golden hair, of in any one now; you men are all alike." She luminous dark eyes half-filled with tears, of coral spoke bitterly; for a moment the music was all lips, and a silvery voice sost and pathetic even gone from her voice, and charity from her heart. while uttering reproachful words. “A treasure “Oh, Aline, you don't mean what you say ! buried under the snow"'-what made those words. Yesterday you allowed me to hope-to-day you keep sounding in his ears? He heard them as he cruelly refuse my love. What do you mean?" fell asleep that night; they echoed through his “I mean that I shall never marry. I had fandreams, and startled him as he awoke in the cied I might learn to love you, because my father morning.
so earnestly desired it; but I can't. I'll work for * * * * * * * * * him gladly, but I cannot marry to please him ; it
"You've come at last, Aline," said a manly would be wicked. I've done all I could for my voice to the last passenger who left the Jersey | loved ones, but have failed in every effort to serve City ferry-boat. “Let me have your bundle." them. Nothing is left for me but submission to And without waiting for a reply he took the parcel the will of Providence. I must be contented with of work from the girl's cold hands, drew her arm my lot, whatever it may be. Good-bye, Harry. through his own, and led her homeward.
You've been very kind to us; be kind to father Aline had not answered; her veil hid her color- still, but visit him when I'm away. This must be less face, upon which wretchedness was so vividly our last interview until you've learned to love depicted the most careless observer would have some one else."
The soft light had returned to her eyes, but the in the poverty of a grand home destitute of everytone of her voice was firm and commanding; thing like true, disinterested affection. At the Harry Seymore knew there was no appeal from end of six months he found himself deeply infather decision, no hope of her ever changing when uated with a picture he had painted for himselfshe had once made up her mind. A tear glis- the picture of a fair woman sought out by a rich tened in his eye as he took her small, soft hand in man in the disguise of a poor, hard-working clerk; both of his, kissed it tenderly, and, without trust of his winning her love thus, and then carrying ing hiniself to speak, went out into the darkness her home to reign like a queen over his grand of the narrow street.
household, surrounded by all the luxuries that Aline Clifford was left alone in the cheerless wealth and affection could lay at her feet. It was room with her gloomy thoughts. Life for her a sweet picture of domestic bliss he drew for himhad been a series of disappointments. Two years self; and he, who had never failed in anything he ago she had been called one of the “queens of had ever undertaken, determined to make it a society;' now she was a poor sewing-girl-a blessed reality. He sent for the best detectives in beggar; trials had come, “not in single file, but the city, described the beautiful girl he sought to in battalions,” yet she had met them bravely, | make his wife, and promised an immense reward until to-night's “broken dream" had come to to any one who would inform him where she blight her last hope,-her glorious ideal of manly lived. goodness and virtue. For while she sat like one | December had come again, but Edward Howard in deepest woe, gazing into the dying embers, had never seen Aline. The police had carried then drawing her hand across her brows, as if to him to many wretched hovels in the great city, smooth away the shadow of a frown, she sighed and he had seen numberless pretty women with deeply, took up her bundle of work, and sat down fair hair and dark eyes, but never one like her of to the sewing-machine, which had to hum an hour whom he dreamed. Aline had obtained work in longer than usual that freezing night, because of Jersey City, and rarely ventured to New York. her reverie. Poor child ! she had passed un harmed Her brother and his child were dead, and a new through society, caring nothing for the fickle suit of mourning had taken the place of the shabby lovers who had beset her path while it was bright- old dress and veil; for no one was left to work for ened by her father's gold, and deserted her the now but her father and herself. Harry often folmoment that was gone; neither had Harry been | lowed her, without her being conscious of it, when able to touch her heart, though so tenderly attached she was forced to go to New York; but she still to her for many years. No, she had never loved, forbade his visiting her, because every word and but her fancy had been attracted, her sentiments look betrayed his love for her-his ever-increasing impressed, by Edward Howard's story and hand love. some face, and unconsciously she had adopted him It was a bleak, snowy evening when she left the as her ideal of noble manhood, and felt that he dress-maker's after delivering her work, and hurwho should win her must bewitch her imagination ried toward the ferry. She was just in time to as Mr. Howard had done. Alas! she had been reach the boat before it started for New York, rudely awakened from her dream, and her faith in and sank down wearily on the last unoccupied man's goodness was crushed forever.
seat. There she sat with drooping head and * * * * * * * * * shivering limbs until the passengers all left the
Edward Howard had never been able to forget steamer on the other side of the river. Then, as the bewildering vision of beauty which had seemed if just waking from a reverie, she rose hastily and to glorify his office that dismal December night. gained a place in the street-car before it started. He was not fond of society, but he had sought it She had just heard at her employers' of the illness to banish from his memory a face and words that of one of the sewing-girls to whom she had behaunted him, and like a nightmare troubled him, come warmly attached, and was now on her way waking or sleeping. He was pursued by the to visit her, to offer her her own week's wages, fancy that he might have found a treasure in such because she knew how poor her parents were, and a woman's love, and dreaded lest her prediction how impossible it would be for them to take care should be verified, and his last moments be spent of her without some help from their friends.
It is already seven o'clock. Aline has left the as Aline had done, and falls into the snow-drift. ill girl smiling through her tears as she looks at His ankle is sprained, and, unable to rise without the bank-notes on her bed which will provide assistance, he calls loudly for help. food, physician, and medicine for her, and walks Edward Howard had been dreaming all the rapidly in the direction of the cars. There is a evening of Aline, whom he had seen just one year certain street, a certain office she has avoided all ago, whom he should never see again, he now the past year; but to-night, the anniversary of her fancies, for his efforts to find her have been in “ begging expedition,” as she always calls it, vain, when he hears the cry for help. Once he when bitterly recalling the disappointment Ed- might not have heeded it, but he has had a lesson ward Howard had caused her, she must go that he cannot forget. He springs to his feet, and is way or be very late in reaching the ferry. And soon by the man's side. so she drags her tired limbs slowly down the pave. “Mr. Howard, there's a woman in the snow ment she had once walked with so much pleasure here. There's part of a dress uncovered by my every day, because of the handsome face of a fall.” generous man who often stood at his door or win | Dashing the snow away from the spot from dow as she went by, and upon whom she gazed whence he had borne the policeman, Edward with delight, rejoicing at the thought of such Howard gave a cry of agony as he saw the goodness in this dreary world.
unveiled face of Aline Clifford, white and color“How fair and soft and white the snow is as it less as marble, but peaceful and sweet beyond comes down! How soon it is black and dismal expression. She had found rest! as it is trampled under foot! I'm so weary! It was in vain Mr. Howard summoned the This lovely snow, which seems to pile itself up neighboring physicians to try and bring life back around my feet, would make a comfortable rest- to that exquisite form. They all told him she had ing-place for me. I'm very cold; but I don't seem passed from sleep into death. The wound on the to feel it now. I'm so sleepy. Oh, for rest, rest!”. temple must have caused unconsciousness until
She moves on through the blinding snow until death came—a painless death, they said to give she comes in front of Edward Howard's office. her rest; rest in the Paradise of God. There the pavement has been swept, and there is It was two days before Harry and her father ice on the bricks. Aline raises her head and saw the advertisement for“ friends of an unknown looks in through the uncurtained window. There lady found frozen to death.” By the bed on he sits idle and listless by his table, with a care which she lay, in a magnificent apartment, redoworn look on his face. She has not time to lent with the perfume of numberless flowers, sat wonder at it, for her foot slips-she falls on the Edward Howard, just where he had sat, except curb-stone and lies still and motionless, while the for an hour each day, ever since he had found his rising wind throws the drifting snow like a shroud “treasure buried under the snow." around her.
It has grown late, and the policeman on his Edward Howard never married. Hired nurses beat wonders why Mr. Howard sits still at his watched at his bedside through his last illness, table with his arms folded, for it is eleven o'clock and a spendthrift nephew inherited his vast wealth. and after. Tempted by curiosity, he steps back. He had lived lonely and loveless, and alone and ward to get a better view of the office. He steps unloved he had died.
As morning vapors often hide
The brilliancy of waking day,
Invest the world with sombre gray,
Before the vivid sun of youth,
And veil our ways in hopeless ruth.
As evening after stormy days
Will often bring a cloudless sky,
Come flashing in with sweet supply,
From sorrows of our early years,
ADDISON F. BROWSE.
NOVELTIES IN FANCY-WORK.
BY MARIAN FORD.
Gray December skies and flying snow-flakes bring | knotted fringe made by raveling the material thoughts of adding to in-door coziness by graceful itself, above which ran the same design of emwindow draperies, and it may certainly be said of broidery. The sides were perfectly plain. Here the modes of ornamentation that “their name is and there tassels of crimson and pink crewel, legion,” Thick stuffs and thin, bright and sombre, costly and cheap materials can be chosen to suit the room and purse of the owner, but no one who desires a tasteful home should forget that nothing so dispels the bareness that is apt to characterize the apartments of those whose means are scanty, as window draperies of even the simplest fabric.
Previous numbers of the MONTHLY have given many pretty designs for curtains, and the present one supplies iwo very elegant illustrations, suitable for use in the handsomest drawing-room.
CURTAIN WITH CROSS-STITCH EMBROIDERY AND
DRAWN-WORK. The curtain illustrated in Fig. I is made of coarse linen, richly ornamented with cross-stitch embroidery and drawn-work, and finished at the bottom with antique lace. The effect is very beautiful; but, should it seem too elaborate, some of the simpler designs for embroidery and drawnwork given in previous numbers of the Monthly, for use on various articles, may be applied to the same fabric with most satisfactory results. In choosing patterns for draperies, however, it should always be remembered that a design containing few lines is preferable to one whose effect is produced by numerous small ones crowded closely together.
FIG. 1. CURTAIN WITH CROSS-STITCH EMBROIDERY AND
CURTAIN WITH OUTLINE EMBROIDERY. A very handsome curtain, seen by the writer at the rooms of the Decorative Art Society, in a neighboring city, was composed of a material alternating with each other, were fastened among closely resembling the écru scrim so much used the meshes of the fringe. at the present time, but of a dark-drab color. | Curtains of this design would be equally pretty The bottom was finished with a hem about an embroidered in two shades of blue on an écru eighth of a yard wide, above which ran a scroll. or white ground, or if a single color were prelike pattern, a quarter of a yard in width, em- ferred, to suit the decoration of a room, it could broidered in the Kensington outline-stitch with be used with excellent effect. Almost any pretty crimson and pink crewel.
pattern for braiding would furnish a good design The curtain was cut long enough to turn back for the embroidery. Poles and rings, rather than upon itself, forming a lambrequin, finished with a a flat cornice, should be used with these draperies,
though the latter would not be inadmissible, if The materials are stout linen, burlap, or any already purchased.
strong fabric,—the color is of no consequence,
a dozen or two of the bright Japanese squares CURTAIN WITH BANDS OF APPLIED WORK. sold for three or four cents each, some black Another style of curtain, very ornamental in velvet ribbon or braid, several skeins of gay effect for the amount of labor expended, is com- embroidery silk, and variegated worsted furnitureposed of dark maroon felt, across which, at the fringe. top and bottom, are two bands of blue felt, on If the mantel-piece is marble, a board must be which are applied sunflowers and leaves purchas- made of suitable length and width to cover it; if able at any embroidery store. This design is wood, the covering-plush, mummy-cloth, felt, or extremely desirable for a portiere, but may also whatever may be chosen-can be tacked directly be used for window draperies. The band at the upon it. Having covered the shelf, measure a top should be one-third narrower than that at the piece of linen long enough to pass around the bottom.
ends and front, and sufficiently deep to hold the Different combinations of color may of course Japanese squares. Arrange these upon it, leaving be employed to suit the room and the maker's i between each a space wide enough to baste the
velvet ribbon or braid. Having basted the braid in vertical rows between the squares, border the entire lambrequin, top and bottom, with the velvet ribbon or braid, which must overlap the squares, thus framing each square, and framing the ends of the vertical rows of braid. Feather
stitch the velvet or braid FIG. 2.- PART OF WINDOW-CURTAIN, WITH IRISH LACE-WORK, DRAWN-WORK, AND to the foundation with
the embroidery silk, and
finish the bottom with taste. Appliqué designs of Persian pattern might be the fringe. The lambrequin must then be tacked substituted for the sunflowers with excellent result. to the shelf with the brass-headed nails used in
| upholstery. These may be driven through the PART OF WINDOW-CURTAIN, WITH IRISH LACE-WORK, row of braid or velvet at the top of the Japanese DRAWN-THREAD, AND LANGUETTE EMBROIDERY. I squares, but many persons prefer to add, just above
The foundation of the curtain illustrated in it, a narrow row of braid, the exact width necesFig. 2 is fine linen étamine. Length and width are sary to hold the nails, thus leaving the frame-work varied to suit the size of the window. The border of the Japanese pictures intact. consists of broad Irish lace, a strip of drawn-work, | Similar lambrequins may be made for the and an insertion two and a half inches wide. window-curtains; it would be difficult to find any
prettier design involving so small an amount of JAPANESE MANTEL LAMBREQUIN.
labor and expense. Window draperies are so frequently made to harmonize with mantel lambrequins that one nat
MANTEL LAMBREQUIN IN APPLIQUÉ. urally suggests the other; and, as the fancy for Another style of mantel lambrequin, which may ornamenting mantel-pieces seems to be, if possible, be more or less elegant, according to the choice on the increase, the suggestion of a pretty and of material, is composed of a strip of plush, felt, inexpensive method of doing so may not be or the cheap double-faced Canton flannel ; cut a unwelcome to some readers of the MONTHLY. suitable length to fit the shelf it is to ornament,