Rensselaer Republican, Volume 15, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 February 1883 — A Gotham Girl's Fate. [ARTICLE]

A Gotham Girl's Fate.

rom the Baltimore American. Fifteen yeara ago the daughter of rich and prosperous man, living in fine style on Fifth avenue, N. Y., went oat in a carriage, ostensibly on a shopping expedition. At Stewart's store she.left the carriage, and her coachman waited for over two hoars, until finally, becoming anxioos, he made inquiries. The young lady had disappeared, and though a great deal of money was spent, and much effort tnaAn to discover her, there was no trao& Ten yeara passed, and the detective, who had worked on the case very faithfully and anxiously, rose by degrees to the rank of police captain. One oold night, just after Christmas, four or five of his officers entered the station with eight or ten intoxicated women in their custody, two were crying over their arrest and the prospect of a prison ; others were fierce in their oaths at the interference of the police with their orgie, while others again were Bulky. Standing a little apart from the group of prisoners the captain noticed a tall woman of about thirty, and he saw that she had once been beautiful, though now her face was disfigured by a bruise on the cheek and a black welt under the eye There was, however, an air of refinement about the woman that attracted the police captain, and he eyed her curiously while the seargent recorded the names of the prisoners: Suddenly the woman beokoned to him. “Captain, do you know' me ?” was her question. “No.”

“Didn’t you once try to find Miss Grace 7 ‘Tee.” “Well, Fm her. I ran away just out of pure deviltry, and I’ve had my full share of it.” “Good heavens ! Why did you do it?” “Oh, I don’t know. The notion came into my head, and I obeyed the impnlse.” “And where have yon been all this time ?’ “Bight here in the ward, under your very nose. You never suspected me, though I saw you often enough.” “And have yon not repented of the step 7* “Repented !” and the word thrilled in the captain’s ear like the wail of a lost souL “Repented? Oh, God, Yes ! But it was too late.” “It’s never too late.” “Yes, it is. But it is not i too late to die!”' And before the captain could prevent, she had drawn a small pistol and shot herself. The poor creature lived for two days, and when she died it was in the arms of her father. The mother had died a few years before of grief. This is a true story, and shows how muqh truer real life is than fiction.