Sweet Violet

Violet had been sobbing softly at the recital of her friend’s sorrows, but now she lifted her fair head, and dashing the tears from her eyes, answered, tenderly:

“I will tell you the whole harrowing story, Lena, for I was indeed the horrified witness of your poor father’s death, and the memory of that scene will never leave me while life lasts!”

Lena pressed her cold little hand and waited anxiously for her to begin.

“I must tell you first how I came to be in Chicago at that time,” said Violet. “You see, I was at boarding-school, and last June our lady principal and her senior class formed a party to attend the World’s Fair together for a stay of ten days or so. I wrote to grandpapa, and he readily gave his consent to the plan and inclosed me a generous check for expenses. On the first of June our party, consisting of Mrs. Maynard, our teacher, and ten young girls, arrived in Chicago, full of joyous anticipations over the wonderful sights we were to see.

“As you have been to the Fair yourself, my dear Lena, I need not dwell on its glories, but only remind you that among the hurrying throngs that filled the immense palaces on every hand, it was utterly impossible for such a large party to keep close together. Mrs. Maynard realized this the first day, and directed her young charges that in the event of getting separated from each other, we should all meet her at the closing hour at the Virginia Building, in order to go home together. We found this plan worked nicely, affording each a better opportunity to inspect the buildings that appealed most strongly to our individual tastes.

“On the ninth day of our attendance at the Fair we separated into parties. Mrs. Maynard and three girls decided to spend that day at the Woman’s Building, two girls went to the Midway Plaisance, two more to the Electric Building, and two more to the Building of Liberal Arts and Manufactures. I found myself alone in the eager desire for a whole day in the magnificent Art Gallery.

“There seemed no possible harm in leaving me there alone, and Mrs. Maynard consented to my wish, saying, kindly:

“‘I can trust you, Violet, I know, to meet me at the Virginia State Building at six o’clock.’

“‘Surely,’ I replied, and she kissed me and turned away with the three girls toward the Woman’s Building, while I ran lightly up the steps of the magnificent Art Palace, thrilling with anticipations of the pleasures in store for me in the contemplation of the wonders of art. Securing a catalogue at the door, I plunged into the eddying throng that filled the rooms, and gave myself up to the keenest delight.

“The hours passed like minutes, and I never even remembered the luncheon hour in the feast of pictures and statuary spread before my appreciative eyes. Oh, how sorry I was that I should have but the one day for viewing all the wonders of this building!

“But you have seen and enjoyed the Art Palace, Lena, so let me hurry on,” cried Violet, as she continued:

“Quite late in the afternoon I observed that a very handsome and elegant young man seemed to be making the tour of the same rooms as myself, and even seemed attracted by the same pictures, so that he kept near me almost all the time. I was a little annoyed at first, fancying he wished to strike up a flirtation with me, but by completely ignoring him, I kept my suspected admirer at a distance, and finally I saw him turn aside into another room and supposed myself rid of his polite but admiring espionage.

“Relieved at the thought, I continued my tour of the rooms until it grew late, and I hastily looked at my watch. But, after the careless habits of womankind, I had neglected to wind it that morning, and it had run down.

“Turning to an old lady near me, I inquired the time, and was told it was half-past five o’clock. I thanked her and decided that I could remain some little time longer, as it would not take me over ten minutes to walk to the Virginia Building.

“At the same time I observed that the crowd was rapidly thinning out, and the next moment a Columbian guard came through the rooms, telling the people that it was six o’clock and the building would now be closed.

“My old lady’s watch had been too slow, and I realized with dismay that my friends at the Virginia Building must be very impatient waiting for my return.

“Walking as rapidly as I could to the entrance of the Art Palace, I discovered, to my surprise, that the heavens were pouring out a perfect deluge of rain. It was so dark as to look like twilight. The ground was covered with a miniature river, and the vast crowds of people were moving toward the various gates under a forest of umbrellas.

“Alas! I had lost my own umbrella that morning on coming out, and had rather rejoiced in my ill-fortune, it had proved such a nuisance to carry through the crowds.

“I stood at the top of the broad steps, dismayed at the thought of venturing into that awful downpour in the thin costume I had worn for comfort this warm day. I realized that in less than five minutes I should be soaking wet, and not being very hardy, might probably suffer an attack of illness from the effects.

“Suddenly an ingratiating voice sounded by my side:

“‘Permit me to offer my umbrella, miss.’

“I glanced up into the eager dark eyes of the young man I had seen so often in the building that afternoon.

“I shrank with instinctive dislike, and was about to utter a nervous refusal, and plunge out into the pouring rain, when a loud clap of thunder and a vivid flash of lightning made me draw back in terror so great that I could not speak the words that trembled on my lips.

“‘This is dreadful!’ exclaimed the young man, holding the umbrella carefully over my head to shield me from the storm. ‘You had better draw back out of the rain, miss, and when it holds up I will escort you to the gates and find a carriage for you.’

“‘Oh,’ I cried, my anxiety loosening my lips, ‘my friends are waiting for me at the Virginia Building! I cannot wait, for they will be uneasy over my delay.’

“‘At least take my umbrella!’ he exclaimed, so kindly that I hesitated.

“‘I cannot rob you of it, sir,’ I replied.

“‘Then permit me to hold it over your head, if you must go,’ he returned, gently, and drawing my hand through his arm, hurried politely down the steps.

“We reached the Virginia Building, but it was closed and deserted. Mrs. Maynard and the girls were gone.

“‘They are probably waiting for you at the gate. I will conduct you to them,’ said my companion, and we joined the draggled, hurrying throngs that were rushing toward the Fifty-seventh street entrance. Alas! in the twilight gloom, the pouring rain, and the rush and confusion, my friends were not to be found.

“I was wretchedly uncomfortable, my feet soaked, my heart heavy with an indefinable horror that I thought was fear of a scolding from Mrs. Maynard, but which I realize now was an awful presentiment of what was hanging darkly over me. I was on the very point of bursting into babyish tears when my companion said, kindly:

“‘It seems impossible to find your friends in this confusion, miss, and it would be better to take a carriage and go straight to your hotel, where you will probably find them awaiting you.’

“I assented, and, after some delay, he secured a carriage, and when I had named my hotel, he spoke to the driver, then sprang into the carriage by my side.

“‘Oh, sir, this is not necessary. You need not accompany me,’ I protested, in strange haste to get rid of my handsome escort.

“‘I beg your pardon, but I had better see you safely with your friends,’ he replied, so gallantly that I feared I had seemed discourteous, and let him have his way. After all, I reflected, he had been very kind and respectful; I really had no grounds for dreading him.

“While we drove along the rainy streets, he told me that his name was Adelbert Stanley, and that he lived in Chicago. I returned his courtesy by giving him my own name, and added the particulars of my visit to the World’s Fair with my teacher and friends.

“By this time we had reached our destination. The carriage stopped, Mr. Stanley handed me out, and led me up the steps of a large, gloomy looking house that in the still pouring rain I did not notice bore no resemblance to my hotel. But when I was led along a broad hall into a garishly furnished apartment, I stared about me in sudden alarm.

“‘This is not my hotel! the room is perfectly strange to me!’ I cried, starting toward the door in haste to get away.

“‘No, no, there is no mistake in the hotel. A blundering servant has simply shown you to the wrong room. Please remain here quietly a minute while I have the mistake rectified,’ returned Mr. Stanley, with a pleasant smile, as he went out, leaving me alone and half terrified in the room.”