Rensselaer Republican, Volume 19, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 June 1887 — STRANGER TAKEN IN. [ARTICLE]

STRANGER TAKEN IN.

BY CHABLIS W. CHESNUTT.

I had come to Now York to seek my fortune. The path over which I was to S untie the fickle goddess was but vaguely efined, at least in regard to .details. But I knew what I wanted to demand that wits to practice my profession. I had lust finished n three years' course in a New -Jersey medical college, during which time I had epent the gi enter part of my modest patrimony, w hich had consisted ot three thousand dollars realized from an inatuance bn, my father's life. My father had been a physician of fine skill, high ideals, and small practice, tt not uneotnmon combination. I had no mother or sisters to keep me at home; our town was abundantly supplied with physicians; and, as I did not care to wait half a lifetime for a practice which would have barely supported me during the remaining half, 1 had determined to seek my fortune elsewhere. On leaving a small town, it was natural that I should come to a large one. I knew that the greatest success, other things being ejnal, was only possible where the largest opportunities existed; and if I did not succeed in a large city, I could not reproach myself with the lack of opportunity. Hence I came to New York. I secured board nt a second-rate board-ing-house in the neighborhood of Washington Square. It was part of my plan of operations to wtndy the city » while-before hanging out rnv shingle. With this object lu view I spent a good deal of time on the streets and in public places; and on pleasant evenings I frequently sat for an hour or two in W ashington Square. Seated thgre, on one of the public benches, often in close proximity to some bottle-hosed and ill-odored tramp, I would study the strange jumble of types in ’he stream of humanity that rolled through the park, which is more’of a thoroughfare than a pleasure-ground. Most of those who passed belonged to the shabbier classes of the metropolis; you could see there every variety of New Yorker, from the above-mentioned tramp to the shabby genteel clerk, -only the wealthy and prosperous looking were seldom met with. One evening as I sat in my accustomed seat, absorbed for the moment in a calculation as to how long the human stomach could endure the food at Mrs. Van Hashelar’s boi ailing-house, when I was dimly con-Scion-i of a female figure passing by. I “ looked up. but rhe lady had gone (bo far for me to see her face. What I did see was a slender figure, set off by a blue silk dress of a stylish cut, and though walking somewhat briskly, borne along with a graceful motion quite different from the usual wabble of a woman in a hurry; a charming back, above which rose a well-turned neck, surmounted by a head of hair of the color poets are popularly supposed to rave about, -a ruddy gold, on top of which in turn reposed a most bewitching bonnet. This somewhat elal>orate description but faintlv pictures the impression she made upon me at the time. I.felt a sudden desire to see the lady's face; I was sure it would be beautiful, and I have always been a great admirer of beautiful women, or rather of the beautiful in women;—the distinction is obvious." I rose from my sent, and started down"

anoiher path, running in the same general direction as she was going, intending to execute a sort of flunk movement and meet her face to face on the other side of the park, where the two paths converged after a long curve. Just as I approached the point where the paths*" came together the lady slipped and fell, uttering a little scream. I rushed forward and assisted her to rise. “Are you badly hurt?” I inquired in a sympathetic voice. “Oh, no,” she replied, thanking me, “it is nothing at all.” But as she started off she came near falling a second time. I caugnt her an 1 placed her arm in mine.' ~ “Shall 1 call a carriage?” I asked. “Oh, no,” she said, “it is hardly worth while. I live only a short distance', and—if you will—” “Certainly,” I said, not waiting for her to finish the sentence, “I shall be very glad to assist you.” , A few minutes' walk, and one or two turns brought us to a brick house of conventional style, and I helped tier np the high stoop and rung the door-bell. As she did not release my arm when the door was opened. I could do nothing less than help her into the house. I deposited my fair burden on a cushioned arm-chair in the parlor, and, hat in hand, was beginmug an elaborate parting bow, when she exclaimed’: “Oh, do sit down and rest a moment. How tired you must be carrying poor me such a distance.” - I sat down. I may say 1: eretEai shewas~ quite as pretty as I had imagined her to be. “I suppose we ought to be introduced,” she said. “I am Miss Preston.” . “And lam Dr. Scott, at your service,” I repl.ed. Our conversation had net ad- — the door-bell here-rang, and the servant girl entered a moment later with a telegraph message. Excusing herself, Miss Preston hurriedly tore open the envelope and glanced at the.message. Her face took on a look of concern, and she said to the servant: “Katy, is papa at home?” “No. ma’am, he went to Boston this afternoon.” ~ f ~ . “ I hen telephone I ncle George’s house and see if he is at home;” and when the girl had gone out she continued, turning to me: “It’s all about my Cousin Harry. ; He Yale, ymdl wm afraid is jus t’ a little wild. He tells me that through an unfortunate mistake be has got into a scrape, without any fault of his own, and that if I don't send him a telegraph money order for ss*l by 9 o'clock, he is likely to be disgraced, a - ;d perhaps expelled from college." I murmured my sympathy. The girl returned and announced that Uncle George had gone to Philadelphia, and would not be Lack until the next night. At this intelligence the expression of concern in Mias Preston s face deepened into dismay; “Pera away—Unde George out of town

—and only >25 in the house," she exclaimed. "Oh what shall—” 1 interrupted her; “If I can venture to offer you my assistance I shall be glad to lend you the money.” “Oh. ho,” she said, “I couldn't think of accepting a loan from a stranger—or. such a recent acquaintance,"—she corrected herself, blushing. I assured her with some eloquence of speech that in n crisis like this the onli-. i nary conventionalities, of polite society i should yMfld to the exigency of the moment; nnd in the end I persuaded her to I accept a loan of $25. “Pupa will send a check when he returns to-morrow” she said, “or I will send the money by Katy, "it you. will lenyp me your card.” ' ’ I felt for my ; cardrcase, but I had left it nt home. 1 enid it didn't matter; I often walked down that way, mid would stop in in a day or two, and see if she had recovered from her injury, “Very well.” she replied with a fine blush nnd an entrancing smile, “1 shall expect you." I went home with my head in a whirl. What a divine creature! What beauty! What grace! What refinement of sentiment! And to thipk that I bnd been able I to serve this beautiful creature, nnd to , place her under an obligation to me, and , that 1 was expected to call again. I felt I I much like a knight-errant of the olden limo when he had rescued some captive princess, and hnd been rewarded for his valor with permission 1 ' to wear her colors. | My ecstatic condition was the mere evens- | able by reason of the fact that I hnd no '[ lady acquaintances in New York—barring | Mrs. Vnn Hnshehir—and hnd been for I three years immersed in the dry details of 1 my medical studies, and entirely without Indies’ society.

I concluded that two days would be a reasonable time to elapse before I called to see Miss Preston. I spent the next two days in dreamhind. If 1 sought iny accustomed sent in Washington. Square it was only to compare the women who passed with Miss Preston. It Vas very annoying to have to think of such an adorable creature in such a formal way. Deaf Miss' Preston would have looked very well on an envelope, or even as a spoken address; but to. think of her as “Miss Preston,” was maddening. I tried to supply the hiatus, and ran over all the pretty names I could think of without being able to decide upon any one which expressed all 1 thought her name ought to suggest. I suppose if I had known her name was Sarah, or Jane, or even Sarah Jane, I would have thought it very nice, but I gave up in despair the attempt such loveliness. To find relief from my restlessness 1 went up to the Astor Library nnd tried to read a bulky treatise on macrobiosis, which xvas my favorite study; but somehow the subject was less interesting than usual, and I finally found temporary distraction from my thoughts, in Onida’s latest novel. The two days finally ran out, and with winged feet I sought the home of my fair acquaintance. I was nt first a little doubtful about the plnce, as on my former visit my absorption in the young lady had been such that I had failed to notice either street or number. However, by following the same course as before, I soon found the house, nnd rang the door-bell. A servant girl admitted me, and asking my name, ushered me into the parlor. I had been seated but a moment, when a somewhat elderly woman, of angular build and severe countenance, entered the ropm. In answer to her inquiring look I said that I had called to ask how Miss Preston wits. “Miss Preston, why there’s no Miss Preston here,” she replied. I looked around the room. It was surely the same room in which I had seen her last. There was the same ugly steel engraving of Abraham Lincoln signing the Emancipation Proclamation; the same chromo of Charles Sumner between the front windows, the pinno occupied the same corner, nnd on it stood the same open sheet of music, the latest popular catch, “When the “Chickens Come to Roost,” or some similar title. “But, madam,” I said, “is not this the residence of Mr. Preston?" “No, indeed,” she replied, this is Mrs. Ledbetter’s boarding-house,” “This is surely where I saw Miss Preton'. But perhaps I nm mistaken in the house, though it seems hardly possible.” “There are no Prestons in the block,” she said, positively. Then a thought seemed to strike her. “Perhaps you mean Miss Weston; she and her father went away yesterday.” “Was she a blonde, with dark blue eyes and very fine teeth, nud did she wear a blue silk dress?” I inquired. “Her exact description, only those fine teeth were false. They left yesterday, without paying their board-bill, Twentysix dollars, young man, is a large sum for a poor widow to be swindled out of.” I began to have an idea. “Do you know where they lived?” I asked. “They said they were going to Boston, where they were expecting remittances, and all that. But it’s my belief that they live wherever they cau get board. That sort of people don’t have any homes.” My idea had by this time developed into a theory. I remembered the stories I had read of the female sharpers of New York, I had been swindled. The sprained ankle was only a trap, into which I had - fallen, like any.common greenhorn. I made my theory known to Mrs. Ledbetter, and her opinion readily coincided with mine, which was further strengthened by several circumstances which she related. My theory became a conviction. Thad been taken in, and. I had myself to thank for it. “Well, young man,” said Mrs. Ledbetter, “yon have my sympathy, bnt I don't see that that helps either of us. Where are you boarding?” Having found out that I did not wish to change my boarding-house, Mrs. Ledbetter at length permitted me to wish her good afternoon. ,■j I was cruely undeceived. My faith in humanity had received a shock from which I feared, in my youthful pessimism, that it would never recover. Henceforth woman lost her charm for me, and in every fair face I saw a possible Miss Preston. I steeled my heart against feminine attractions: I even changed my boarding-house because I discovered in myself signs of weakening toward a pretty short-hand writer who cameto boardat Ymi. Hashelar’s. My mind was made up; 1 would live and die a bachelor. However, this sternness wore off. or, at least became softened with time, which takes the edge off the sharpest pain. I resumed my walks and character studies; but as my experience of Washington Sqrmre had been so.painfnl I got into the habit of going up to Central- Park to pursue my _°l?6eryations. One afternoon I sat? on an iron bench just at the intersection of a carriage drive and a footway, reading a copy of the Herald, which contained a graphic account of a great ball on Fifth Avenue the night “be fore. I was wondering how Jong it would be before I could gain admittance to that enchanted sphere—l confess that I am given to day-dreams—when a carriage drew near, aad an exclamation in a feminine voice caused me to look up. A handsome cart had stopped a few yards away, in which sat an elderly gentleman and a very good-tonkin” voung lady. ’ “Yes, papa,” said the lady, *ir is surely he; I cannot be mistaken.” When she spoke I recognized Miss Preston. In the light of these eyes and (be charm of. That voice 1 forget that I had been swindled, and blushed to the roots of my hair—l am

not sure that my hair did not blush, but ns it is naturally red I caunei be certain. I lifted my hat nnd advanced to the carriage, ns her attitude showed that she expected me i<> do. "Papa,” she said, turning to the portly, well-dad gentleman who eat beside her. “thje is Dr. Scott, who so kindly helped ' pie to rescue Harry from that very disagreeable predicament the other night;— my papa, Mr. Preston. We have been looking for ,yon ever'lfiffce; andTlinve been, oh, so mortified that I could not learn yonr address, i We got the directory, and looked up all the Dr. Scotts, but conld not find yon. How could you be so cruel as to leave ns under snail a burden of obligation for so long?” Ah I wks trying to collect my thoughts, ‘ mid to toll (he truth without referring to my manifestly absurd suspicions, the portly and respectable father invited me to enter the carriage. I complied, and as we drove I through the shaded diives of the beautiful I metropolitan pleasure-ground, I explained i that I had been nimble to find the bouse. “A veiy natural mistake,” observed Mr. Preston, oracularly, “for one who is not familiar with great cities. To find a needle in a hay-mow is an easy task compared with searching for a person in New York without an address!!—in which opinion I agreed with him; indeed, he could not at that moment have expressed an opinion in which I would not have concurred. But why prolong the story? I accompanied them home; I got'my money, though that was a small matter. My first visit was but one of many, and I now have an office in the basement of my father-in-law's residence. Mr. Preston is an alderman, and is interested in city contracts. He is already rich, nnd when his term of office expires we expect to move up on Fifth Ave-

nue. As my wife is her father’s only child, and will undoubtedly inherit his wealth, I am not obliged 1o enter the feverish race for money, 1 am at present engaged in the preparation of a work on macrobiosis, which I expect will make me famous. There is but one drawback to our wedded happiness—Mr. Preston is a widower and I hare no mother-in-law.