Press enter after choosing selection

Miscellany: Lord Henry Stuart And The Umbrella Girl

Miscellany: Lord Henry Stuart And The Umbrella Girl image
Parent Issue
Day
8
Month
April
Year
1844
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

The followinfr touching story is from one of Mrs. L. M. Child's "Letters from New York" to the Boston Courier. In a city which shall be namelees, tliere lived, long ago, a young gir], the only daughter of a widow. She euine from the country, and was as ignorant of the dangerp of a city, as the pquirrels of her nalive fields. She had glossy black hair, gentle, beaming eyes, and 'lipslike wet coral." Or course, she knew that she was beauliful; for when she tvas a child. strangers often stopped as 6he passed, nnd cxclaimed, How handsomeshe is!' And as she grew older, the young men gnzed on her with admiration. Sh was poor, and removed lo the city to earn her living by covering unibrellas. iáhe was just at fhat susceptible age, when youth is passing into womanhood; when the 6oul begins to be pervnded by "that restless principie, which impels poor humansto seek perfection in union.'' At the Hotul opposite, Lord Henry Stuart, an English nobleman, had at that time laken lodgings. His visit to this country is doubtless weil remembered by many, for it made a great eensation at the time. He was a peer of the realm, descended from the royal line, &, was, moreover, a strikingly hanasonie man, of riglit princely carriage. He was subsequently a member of the British Parliament, and is now dead. As this distinguished stranger passed to and from his hotel, he encoiintered the unbrella girl, and was impressed by her anconimon beauty. He easily traced her to the opposite store, where he 6oon afier went to purchase nu unbrella. This was folio wed up by presenta of flowers, chats by the way side, and invitatiou8 to walk or ride; all of which were gratefully accepted by the unsuspecting rustic. He was playing a game, for temporary excitetnent, ehe with a head f uil of romance, nnd a heart melting under the influence of love, was unconsciously endangeririg the happtnesfi of her whole life. Lord Henry invited her to visit the public gardens on the Fourlh of July. In the simplicity of her heart, she believed all his flattering profe9sions, nnd considered herself his bride elect; she therefore uccepted the invitar tion, with innocent frankness. But she had no dress fit to appear on such a public occasion, with a gentleman of high rank, whom she vcrily t-upposed to be her destined husbtnd. While these thoughts revolved in her mind, her eye was unfortunately utlracied by beautiful piece of silk belonging to her em - ployer. Ah, could ehe not take it, without being seen, and pay for it secretly, when she hnd earned money enougb? The temptationuonquereu ner m a moment of weakness. She concenled the silk and conveyed it to her lodgings. It was the first thing she had ever stolen, and her remorse was painful. She would have carried it buck, but she dreaded ed discovery. She was not sure that her repcntonce wuuld be met in a spirit of forgive ness. On the eventful Fourth of July, ehe came out in her ne.v dress. Lord Henry complimented her upon her elegant appearance; but ehe was not happy. On their way to the gardens, he talked to her in a tnanner which uhe did not comprehend. Perceiving this, he poke more explicitly. The guileless young creature stopped, looked in his face with mournful reproach, and burst into teara. The nobleman took her hand kindly and said, 'My dear, are you an innocent gir!?' l am, I am,' replied 6he, with convulsive sobs. "Oh, what have I ever done, or said, that yoa should ask me that?' Her words stirred the deep foun tains of his better nature. If you are innocent,' said he, 'God forbid that I should make you otherwise. But you accepted my invitations and présenle so readily, that I supposed you understood me.' What could I underetand,' said she, except that you intended to make me your wife?' Though reared amid the proudest distinctions of rank, he fslt no inclination to smilc. He blushed and was silent. The heartless conventionaüties of life stood rebuked in Uie presence of afFectionate eimplicity. He conveyed her to her humble home, and bade her farewell, with a thankful consciousness that he had done no irretrieva ble injury to her future prospecta. The remerabrance of her would soon be to hioi as the recollection of last year's butterflies.- With her, the wound was deeper. In her eolitarjr chamber she wept, in bitterneas of heart, over her ruined air-castles. And that dress, which she had 6tolen to make an appeaiajice befiiting hia bride! Oh, what if she should be diBcovered? And would not the heart ofher poor widowed mother break, f she ehould ( ever know her child was a thief ? AIbs, her i wietched forebodings were too true. The silk was traced to her; she woe arrested, on her woy to the store, and drag-ged to prison. There she refused all nourishment, and wept incessantly. On the fourth day, the keeper called upon Isaac T. Hopper, and informed him that there was a young girl in prison, who appeared to beutterly friendless, and determined to die by starvation. The hearted oJd gentleman immediately went to her assistance. He found her lying on the floor of her cel!, with her face buried in her hands, eobbing as if her heart would break. He tried to comfort her, but could obtain no answer. Leave us alone,' said he to the keeper.- 'Perhaps she will sp.eak to me, if there is nono to hear, When they were alone together, he put back the hair from her temples, laid his hand kindly on her beautiful head, and said in soothing tone, My child, consider me as thy futher. Teil me all thou hast done. If thou hast taken this silk, let me know all about it. I will do for thee as I would for a daughter: and I doubt not that I ean help thee out of this difficulty.' After a long time spent in affectionate entreaty, she lcaned her young head on his friendJy siioulder, and sobbed out, ;Oh, T wish Í was dead. What will iuy poor molher sav when she knows of my disgrnce?' Perhaps we can manage that she never shall know it,' replied he; and alluring her by this hope, he gradually obtained from her the whole story of heT acquaintance with the nobleman. He bade her be comforted, and lake nourishment; for he would see that the silk tvas paid for, and the prosecution withdrawn. He went immediately to her employer, and told him the story. 'This is her first offense,' said he; 'the girl is young and theonly child of a poor widow. Give her a chanco to retrieve this one false step, and she moy be restored to society, a useful woman. I will see that thou art paid for the 8tlk.: The man readily agreed to withdraw the prosecution, and said he would have dealt otherwise by the girl had he known all the circumstances. 'Thou 6houldst have inquired into the merits of the case, my friend,' replied Feaac. By this kind of thoughtlessnebs, many a young creature is driven inïo the downvvard patl), who might easily have been saved.' The good old man then went to the hotel and inquired fbr Henry Stuart. The servant said his lordship had not risen. 'Teil him my business is of importance,' said Friend Hopper. The servant soon returned and conducled him to the chamber. The nobleman appeared surprised that a plain old Quaker should thus int rude upon his luxurioiis privacy; but when he heard hit, errand, he blushed deeply, and frankly admitfed the truth of the girl's statement. His benevolent visitor took the opportunity to 'bear a testimony,' as the Friendo say, against the sin and selfishness of profligacy. He did it in such a kind and fatherly manner, that the young man's heart was touched. He excused himself by eaying that he would not have tampered wiih the girl, ifhe had known her to be virtuous. 'I have done inany wrong tlnngs,' said he, but, thonk God, no betrayal of confiding innocence reats on my conscience. I have ahvaye esteemed it the basest act of which man is capable.' The impriíonment of the poor girl, and the forlom situation ín which she had been found, distressed him greatly. And when Isaac represented that the silk had been stolen for his sake, that (he girl thereby lost profitable employment, and was obliged to return to her diötant home, to avoid the danger of exposure, he took out a fifty dollar note, and offered it to pay her expenses. fNay,' said Isaac, 'thou arta very rich man; I seo in thy hand a Jarge rol] of such notes. She is the daughterof o poor widow, and thoti hast beon the means of doing her great injury. Give me anoiher.' Lord Henry handed him anothef fifty dollar note, and smiled as he said, 'You understand your business well. Bui you have 8Ctsd nobly, and I reverence you for it. If you sver visit England come to see me. I wil! Ejive you a cordial welcome, and treat you like a nobleman.' 'Farewell, friend,' replied I?aac: 'Though nuch to blame n this offair, thou too hast befiaved nobly. Mayst thou be blessed in do■nestic life and trifle no more with the feelings jf poor girls; not even with those whom oth?rs have betrayed and desected.'Luekily, the girl had sufficient presence of mind to assume a false name when arrested; by which ineans her true name was kept out of the newspapers. 'I did this,' said sfie, 'for my poor mother's sake.' With the money giveu by Lord Hcnry, tho silk was paid for, and she was sent home to her mother, well provided with clothing. Her name and place of re6idence remain to this da ƒ a secret in the breast of her benefactor. Several years after these incidents I have related, a lady called at Friend Hopper's house and asked o see him . When he entered the room, he found a handsomely dressed youHg mat ron, with a blooming boy of five or six years oíd. She rose to meet him, and her voice choked, as she said, Friend Hopper, do you know me? He replied that he did not. She fixed her tearful eyes earuestly upon him, and said, 'You once helped me when in great distress.' But the good missionary of humanity had helped too many in distress, to be able to recollect her, without more precise information. With a tremulous voice, she bade her son go into the next room, for a few minutes; then dropping on her kneee, she hid her face in his lap, and sobbed out, "I am the girl that stole the silk. Oh, where Bhould I now be, if it had not been for you."When her emotion was omewhat calmed, ehe told him that she had married a highly respectable man, a Senator of his nalive State. Hoving a cali to visit the city, she had again and again passed Friend. Hopper's house, lookiug wistfully at the windowa to catch a sight of him; but when ehe attempted to enter, her courage failed. 'But I go away to-raorrow," eaid she, 'and I coyld not leave the city, without once more seeinij and thanking him who sived me from ruin.' She recalled her little boy, and said fo him, 'Look at that old gentleman, and remember him well; for he was thé best friend your tnotherever had.' With an earnest in vitation that he wotild visit her happy home, and a fervent 'God ble3 you,' ehe bade her benefactor farewell. My venerable friend is notaware thatl have written this story. I have not published it from any wiek to glorify him, but to exert a genial influence on the hearts of others; to do my mile towarda teaching socipty how to cast out the Demon Penalty, by the voice of the Angel Love.

Article

Subjects
Signal of Liberty
Old News