Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 July 1875 — The Romance of a Poor Young Girl. [ARTICLE]

The Romance of a Poor Young Girl.

Tfcoin Piatt writes in the Capital the following “ romance:” We rode over from Washington with the heroine. She is a lovely, fascinating woman, with a quiet force in her that is covered by a charming modesty, like an iron hand hid under a silk-velvet glove. She is nothing but a clerk under the Government and scarcely worth reading about. Jvfter all. her story is interesting, for it illustrates the social life of our national capital. To this city there came in a carriage a wealthy gentleman accompanied by his family. We calf him Bullion because his name was not Bullion, but something else. He had retired from business on an immense fortune, all safely invested in North Pacific, Erie and other first-class securities. After doing Europe for three years he came to Washington, that his eldest, Maud —we say Maud, for that is a beautiful name and reminds us of one who came into the garden as our heroine came to Washington. Mr. Bullion had other children. but he wished his eldest to see our national capital, that she might compare it to those of Europe. We felt sorry for the capitals of Europe when we heard that. Taking a handsome, sujierbly furnished house he and his excellent laily entertained in a way to win the hearts —we should say stomachs, but it means the same thing—of Washington. Maud was a belle. A lovely girl, with such an author of her being, reigned a queen, and had bouquets and otters of marriage every night

Among the crowd of suitors one found favor. He was rather a handsome gentleman, and considered a rising man. The end of the season found the two engaged. One tine suinmer day* Jay Cooke A Co. failed. Old Bullion was not very remote, and one morning he waked up to find himaelf knocked over. Then came the old, old with the old result of bad going to worse, and in this case aggravated by the sudden death of the victim. Mr. Bullion succumbed to tlie crash of ’73 and the apoplexy. Maud found herself with a helpless mother, four helpless younger sisters and brothers, with nothing but a life-in-surance policy settled on her mother, amounting to just $5,000. She collected this money, put it in bank to her mother’s account, wrote her future husband a sad letter releasing him from his engagement, and then took the train for Washington to secure a place under the Government. Washington looked at through the bay window of an elegant mansion is not the same city looked at through the diney Sines of a cheap - boarding-house. Poor and found the atmosphere of our city strangely chilled. The members of the Cabinet and the Senators, once her admirers, anxious to oblige, were difficult of access, and when seen were too sympathetic and polite. Since she secured places so easily for her dependents she found they had become strangely crowded. Her trials, her heartbreakings and disappointments would fill a volume. We have not the space to tell how her little sum of money disappeared until she dare not even ride in the cars. But her high courage, her indomitable will, kept her up and at work. One hope disappeared in disappointment only to give place to another. From time to time she received loving letters from her proposed and accepted husband.

One morning she called, according to appointment, on Senator Bogan—he will lie recognized by all under that nan)©— and was shown ujto the parlor. Being told that the Senator would lie down soon, Miss Maud settled herself in a chair. Next to waiting in the ante-chamber of a Cabinet magnate, where a crowd of stranded humanity sit in gloomy silence, with eyes fixed on the door that covers official greatness, the dreariest business is to wait in the overdone parlor of a wealthy Senator. Maud gave twenty minutes to an inventory of the fttrnilure; then she studied for ten minutes her slender form, white face and faded dress in the huge mirror that seemed to duplicate the room. Then she went through the Senator’s picture gallery, which consisted of a photograph album. After, she read the costly books scattered over the table. Senator Bogan being a Christian statesmatf,lhe literature was of a pious sort and very depressing. An hour went and no Senator appeared, and at last Maud snftly opened the door tlmt led into the conservatory, that she might breathe the scent of rare flowers with their taste of Paradise. Whilst standing thus, drawing in great breaths, she heard voices in earnest conversation, and was about closing the door and her ears when she caught the sound of her own name. It wgs very improper for Miss Maud to listen, but nine hundred nnd ninety-nine out of a thousand would lie guilty of a like impropriety under like circumstances. Said a sweet voice that Maud recognized as that of Miss Bogan: s> “ You never loved till now*’’ “ Never.” responded a bass that made poor Maud start, for it was the voice of her intended. “ And that affair of yours with Maud Bullion*” “ Nothing, I assure you, but a flirtation,” continued the bass. “O Emma, don’t trifle with the earnest affection my heart feels!” And then came a succession of explosive sounds so indicative of close quarters. Maud threw wide the door and strode into the conservatory. There was an ugly look in her large brown eyes, and some confusion on the part of two people so suddenly called upon to extricate themselves.

“I beg your pardon,” cried Maud, in a low, measured tone, as if she were reading somebody’s death sentence, “ but I gathered from what I heard that you were aliout engaging yourselves. I like it. I never saw two people so fitted for each other. You need an engagement ring. Let me give you one,” and she drew from her slender finger a diamond. “Fate kept me from pawning this for bread that it might serve so grave a purpose. It will bind admirably a very shallow heart to a very selfish one. Good morning.” And she was gone from the astonished gaze of the disturbed Lovers. They were brave words she uttered, but they did not keep her from crying like a child on reaching her miserable apartment, where it seemed as if the world, once so fair and bright, had deserted her. But the world had not. Tlie next morning tlte Christian .statesman, Senator Bogan himself, called in his carriage and carried Maud to the—well, we will say the State Department, for it was not the State Department—where she xvas duly installed as a translator and clerk at $1,200 a year, where she yet is. To this the venerable Bogan was moved solely by an Ishmaelitish Bohemian of the press’ who, taking a sudden interest in Maud, said; “ Look here, Bogan, it’s got to be done,” and it was. This little romance, that created some stir at the time, audia here so hastily told, would serve a good purpose in the hands of some playwright or tale-writer anxious to portray the real life at our national capital.