Unlucky: A Fragment of a Girl's Life

ing day. Spring, as is its custom with us, had come suddenly; the air was soft and balmy, and the open hall door revealed a vista of delicate green that had fallen like a cloud upon the

ord at all about claiming that visit from Helen of which a good deal had been said in the early stages of their friendship, the girl, suddenly thrown back upon herself, felt, with the exaggerated feelings of youth, as though she were deserted by everybody. It was impossible that she could guess how hard Cousin Mary had tried to secure that visit from Helen about which she had, rather incautiously perhaps, spoken to her young favourite. For as the days went on, and Miss Macleod's stay had lengthened out beyond her original intention, her interest in Helen had increased, and had deepened into real affection. Beneath Cousin Mary's influence all the best part of Helen's nature came out. And, indeed, her deep affectionateness, her generous impulses,

f of her stepdaughter's perversity. But what Mary Macleod could see in the girl, and why she should want to carry off such an uninteresting child on a long visit, fairly puzzled Mrs. Desmond. It was not only perplex

offer," he suggested when Cousin Mary, with most unusual persistency, made

y. She rose from her chair and crossed the room to where her husband was sitting and lai

ove, and I

ept my wo

Helen is tiresome, no doubt. I only

re that you trust me to be the best-to be t

private interview, during which she had spoken pretty plainly, his silence gave consent to all that his wife had to say when she had recovered herself sufficiently to decline the obnoxious proposal in terms that left no further discussion of the matter po

ul tone to his wife, who was sitting beside him. "It is strang

it of opposition. Mary was always unlik

, still fretful. "People used to be very fond of Helen in I

by her husband's tone and

e seems to grow more trying every day. Mary has made her simpl

If you want to be rid of the child, send her to your cousin. She begged ha

white face coming out of gathering twiligh

he would bear reproof meekly. And she would remember that great Father whose presence was such a reality to Cousin Mary, and who was training her not in anger but in love. As for her dear earthly father, Helen smiled as she thought of him, and recalled the days when he was always patient with her wayward fits. Then the gathering twilight made her feel lonely, and she

p up her spirits, for the house seemed so still and quiet. The drawing-room door stood partly open, but a screen concealed the upper part of the room, where the colonel's sof

ughts. In a twinkling all her good resolutions vanished. While she had been determining to submit, to be good, they, her father and stepmother, were discussing her, wishing

onate sob. "Don't you know that I hate being here; yes, hate it quite as much as

l? Go away instantly. If you have learnt from Miss Macleod to listen at doors I must write and beg her never to enter m

ay. For a moment she looked at them both defiantly, then, like one possessed

d Mrs. Desmond, "y

en only

o. I'm going," she s

caught her eye. She picked it up and twisted it round her head and throat, then opening the hall door she passed out without a moment'

kept her word. She has gone

e; "lie still. A servant shall go a

hand on his arm, but he

sternly. "If any evil happens to th

wing herself on the sofa and bursting

peal seems doubtful. Without pausing or turning his head, he walked strai

g in vain to discover some trace of the fugitive. But to all appearance she had vanished, and the colonel, his alarm increasing every moment, as the passers-by whom he interrogated merely

's approach, whilst from within came gleams of light and glimpses of small outstretched hands drawing father in. Such sights brought her a realization of her own desolation, and she hurried on until at last physical exhaustion brought her once more to a stand-still. Oh! how tired and hungry she was! Even a piece of bread would have been welcome. But, alas! her pocket was empty. She had not the wherewithal even to buy bread. Then she sat down on a door-step and began to ponder on her future proce

she tried to speak, but couldn't. She

ly. "Where do you come from? You ou

ght pass the night free from discovery. "In the morning I shall be able to think," she said, crouching down on the cold stones. Terribly afraid as she was, and cold and hungry, the idea of returning home never entered Helen's head. She had said to herself that she would never go back, and she fully meant to keep her word. A sort of drowsiness was stealing over her when approaching footsteps star

ather bending over her, while a policeman with a deeply-concerne

ir," said the policeman. "L

el, "are you hurt? Oh! my child

ed Helen, still frightened and a lit

d you think I would leave you

shrank

" she sa

, child, I daresay. I have

ore than his words, touched

whispered, throwing her arms ro

n hand, were driving homewards. The sound of wheels brought Mrs. Desmond to the head of the stairs. Her face bore signs of

you back safely. Going out without a coat,

but he put his arm round Hele

re;" and they all three w

orbed woman, "Margaret, we have all something to forgive. I think we have been a little hard on the child. I have realized that through these fearful hours-hours that

oving away a little. "Helen has behaved shamefully, but if

lf in her low chair, leaning

willing to let slip the opportunity of bringing these two together, and,

en. She spoke passively, li

ut she was cold, tired, and hungry, and the painful emotions of the

words, and was satisfied; the

orgive her freely. Think i

through the long night hours, was too much for the colonel. Ill and over-wrought, he tu

ghtful one by the kitchen tribunal, where rough justice is meted out with impartiality as a rule, the poor wornout child had no lack of practical sympathy and help.

inct that her stepmother had not forgiven her, never would forgive her, and her heart sank as she thought of the sharp reproofs, the never-ending tasks that would

haps if I am she will even get to like me a little"-Mrs. Desmond was always inelegantly she in Helen's thoughts. "I don't know tha

she had anticipated, Helen had a good many small persecutions to endure, although Mrs. Desmond carefully avoided any open conflict with her stepdaughter. And in one way thin